I'm deteriorating, day by day.
The days are starting to feel a little shallow for me.
Gone are my happy days, is it?
I'm starting to feel it again. The uneasiness, my overthinking.
My heart came back to it's abnormal pace when beating.
I'm starting to entertain the guest in my mind. It's whispering yet again, things that I don't want to think of.
I became better when I fell in love, felt in love and have been in the moment.
I then, there, felt secured. That I don't mind hearing whispers when I know someone has cured my ravelling thoughts of self pity.
I felt relieved that gone are the days that I feel empty. Like, as if i'm a cup and a tea has poured inside me, perfectly.
It felt like the trees that I once thought to be just leaves has now bear a fruit, a very sweet one.
But these days, things are not falling into its own places.
My cure is starting to build a gap in a perfect adherence; starting to spill the tea inside of me, setting it free.. away from me; and starting to pick the fruit that I had been fascinated with.
And now that my cure is drifting from me, the voice inside started to have its strength on me again.
That i'm never enough.
I'm never important.
No one sees my worth.
And people are supposed to just come.. and go. 'Cause i'm not someone to stay with. Because never will I be worth it.
KABD