prologue

Every night, I think, I write and cry. All of my sleepless nights, I became more productive, self-harming, leaving scars on me. After all of that, I realized and told myself, "Do you think all of that was worth it?" While my tears crawling down my face. But one slip of mistakes, they'll blame me, and became a sleepless night.

I have hundred of sleepless nights, so I wrote these poems every night when I can't sleep-thinking to the things that cling to my easy-to-shatter heart.

I have my friends to support, they're the one who convinced me to share my poems on my socials. So, I did, though I'm still thinking, is this worth it?

I've encountered boys & girls, I had a crush on both. But until I was never the muse or the inspiration to both of them and I became the witness of their love story.

So I took a quill pen, while my hands were merely blood. It's tragedy, because both of them hated me. Now it became my sleepless nights until now.

I plucked my hairs every night, I can't sleep. I'm always finding to help fell asleep. But none of them worked, then it ruined my rep. So I wrote every single words he said, she said, I said, and they said to me, everyday, every midnight.

I imagine having a dark room and wood desk with candle lamp at the top, next to a quill pen and a piece of paper. I always find myself bleeding, it's painful, but I can do it.

When I was 13 I used to think that I will be a big artist, and having my album. Expressing my experience to my fans, now I'm 16-3 years apart. I like to be a known poet, and my 13-year-old me will disappoint to me, but I'll say, "That's fine, you're still expressing your experience but in a different way."

Now travel with me in my imagination and hallucinations in my sleepless nights. Encouter these characters, who'll remind you of something.

This is my experiences, my imaginations and hallucinations. It is not mine now, it's all yours.

Sincerely yours,
Chester