Prose

Try to understand that I’m flesh and blood. I breathe, cry, laugh and bleed.
My existence isn’t in your hand; I’m here against you and everyone who doesn’t want to hear.
My words are not a poem, nor an article or something amusing to see. My words are only for those who really can read and feel; feel all the pain that surrounding me, all those unshed tears that I always keep.
You think you know me well, while your knowledge is based upon the outside, not what's been hidden inside of me.