The Poem Book That Shouldn't Be Seen [P1: If It Goes Up, Must Come Down]

Untitled Part

I no longer have hope,
I don't want to try again,
I don't want to keep trying,
Why are you like a hopeless remover?

I don't want to suffer again
I don't want to die in soul again,
I won't do it again,
Why can't I stop lying to myself?

Should I delete my poem, should I delete my message, should I delete my existence?

Why can't I?
Who am I?

What I'm supposed to do?
Who am I supposed to be?

Where I am?
Where I'm supposed to be?
Whose lie it's eating my soul again?

Should I delete my question?

Where do I find the purpose in my ride?
When did I falled?
When did I died?

When did I tried to talk to you?
Why did I do it?

Should I ask things I don't want to know?

This is an untitled Part, a deleted poem,

I feel like a blank page,
a whole dark space,
trying to fill itself, with his rage, since you are not,
here for me and here for you.