prequel: a letter to a struggling soul

the voices in my head that used to remind me,

it will pass,

it will get better,

you will be okay,

it'll be over soon,

are becoming still as day passed.

why?

why are you getting quieter?

why aren't you reminding me those assurances as much as you used to?

could it be because,

you're slowly losing hope of it?

you're starting to realize that it won't?

maybe, these assurances are just,

comfort that lies beneath undiscussed feelings,

unsettled issues,

realisation that i will never get through this.

stucked,

between realizing that im deluded of these so called assurances,

and still putting a little hope that these comforting words are true.

maybe these assurances are just,

trying to fabricate the ugly truth,

the never ending agony,

the untold torment,

the ongoing affliction.

hang on a little they said,

if only they knew,

i've lost grip of 'holding on',

countless amount of time.

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hey my tenant,

it comes to my realisation that you've been in here for a little too long now,

"could it be because no one is trying to help me get out of here?"

oh love,

thats untrue.

you'll always have people that want to see you out of here.

even i want to see you out of here,

because your soul don't belong here.

i've packed your bags,

your friends are here, 

to pick you up and leave.

im gonna miss you but hey,

we'll meet again some other times in life,

but i pray to god,

the next time i see you,

at least you're healed from these sufferings.

goodbye.

from,

self-hate landlord.