thousands of feet above the ground

I was thousands of feet above the ground, but my mind flew higher than where I am.

Pictures of my old and present self are clouding up my mind.

When I was a kid, I thought I was tough,

But how come I am now vulnerable?

Is it my fault or is it somebody’s?

Am I the one responsible for what I turned out to be?

Trusting is something I find difficult.

Loving for me is destructive.

But I take the risk.

Because that’s what life is meant for.

If you don’t get hurt, you don’t truly love, and if you don’t truly love, you don’t actually live.

I looked down through the window while I was high above the ground.

I saw the beauty of it all.

Some parts are ruined, but the world still is beautiful.

I wonder if people still see the beauty within me (like the way I see the beauty of the world).

I wonder if they still see my worth despite all the pain I went through.

Would someone ever appreciate the good in me?

Would it be possible that someone save me from falling apart?

I hope so.