She is an outcast. She finds it easier to express what she feels in the form of writing. Whether it is poems, letters or long texts. These are poems that she writes trying to describe how it feels to live with certain mental health issues, in a worl...
Take me to the rooftop, guiding me by holding my hands. This time, not for the mesmerizing and romantic sunsets, not for the endless conversations with a cup of tea steaming away in our hands, not for the awkward photoshoots of each other, not for tucking my hair behind my ear while you say, "How lucky am I to have you?" not for the apologies after an argument, not for just taking pleasure in each other's presence.
The rooftop was our place. If either of us were lost, we knew where to find ourselves and each other.
Today, take me to the rooftop because I want to see the world while I stop breathing. Pull my motionless body in, cradling my face in your hands while your tears fall on my cheeks.
I feel so shattered. I tried harder each day to put the pieces back, but failed. Please forgive me, I can't do this anymore. Tell my friends that I love them, I always will, and that I miss them too. Perhaps there's no way out of my mind other than just letting my body drop from the rooftop.
If you ever miss me, just come back to the rooftop, I'll be waiting there, to wrap you into a warm and safe embrace.
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