Re. Ela re.

Under each Heaven, there's a Hell.

I hit my head so hard lately, I can barely think. It is hard for me to realise that I'm an adult now. Maybe because I'm not.

I'm supposed to learn from my mistakes but I never do. They say that the history always repeats itself, but how can mine repeat so often?

I had wings. I don't have any, anymore.

I had love. No more love for me.

I had poems. They all burnt in Hell.

I had self-esteem. Now that's gone too.

I'm not mad at anyone, except myself. I'm mad at me because I can never do a thing right, because I carry too much for some and too less for others, because I need some more than they need me, because I have a heart that's way too sensitive, because I push away the ones I love in order not to hurt them, because I can't find a proper friend, because I forgot to be myself in the past few months.

I miss being happy. I miss you. I miss the Hell which had a Heaven above. I miss missing home. I miss life.

And... I guess that it was painful for you too, but, believe me, my grief was ten times bigger.

I'm a Jesus now. sacrificing myself for the other's mistakes.

And I'm not a personal one. I'm an universal one.

So, all of your sins will be forgiven after I'll give my last breath. You're clean now. I'm off.

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