Wednesday, 29 February 2012

Another Chance

Every day, it's another chance.

I distinctly remember
The reverie-like memory
It was so pleasant, so perfect.
Like the clouds in the sky.

Though the time was short,
Every second, I enjoyed.
The talk between us,
A natural smile.

Every day, I track.
It's always different.
The times he leaves the MRT
Varies too much.

I couldn't loiter or wait.
So unnatural, so ungentlemanly.
Everyday I walk to school,
My head half-turned. Was he there?

Will we share
Those willful moments again?
Will the flowers blossom
In our hearts and brains?

I don't know.
But every day, I try.
It's a new day.
A new try.

Every day, it's another chance.

Friday, 24 February 2012


A heart of ice
Stoned away
It will never melt
Only shatter

Thursday, 23 February 2012


The heart is a fragile thing.
A simple gesture will
Cause it to shatter
To a million shards.

To you, it's nothing.
Like a breeze blowing past.
To me, it's a hurricane.
A never-ending torrential storm

Wanting to stash it
To one side
Without a second glance,
But I can't.

Bring it back.
Yes, I'm screaming at you.
Give me back
What me I once possessed.

Just let me know
That I can live on.
Just shed some light
On this great mystery.

You broke, you pay.
You broke, you pay.
You broke my heart,
You pay for it.

With your own.

Wednesday, 22 February 2012


A setting sun
A ball of orange
A glow of hope
A calming warmth

Monday, 13 February 2012

A Lone Valentine

It's February 14

I am sitting in my room alone again,

Staring out at the beautiful colours painting the outside world.

The glowing sun touches my skin, telling me I should not be there.

But I was.

The television was blaring some romance film I didn't care about.

There was a fine tune playing about love. About happiness. About companionship. About friends.

And suddenly the walls screeched at me, a scream so silent yet powerful.

It was yelling at me, to not be there alone. To be with someone.

But I can't.

I was sitting on a half of a love seat, still wishing for someone to sit next to me.

My arms were desperately searching for someone to hold on to.

I felt the need of a proper embrace again, one I had not felt for a long time.

I wished I could caress someone on my chest.

I wished I could find a human pillow to lie on.

We'd talk, forever and ever.

To most, this is a day to celebrate the love.

To me, it is a day to celebrate loneliness.

It is a lone Valentine.


Thursday, 9 February 2012


I remember the times
When I was young
And my kindergarten teacher told me,
“It’s okay to be different.”

“It’s okay to be yourself.
Everyone is special.
Everyone is unique.
It’s okay to be different.”

I want to tell her
That she was wrong.
It’s not okay to be different,
Not when no one wants to be.

I am fourteen.
I walk down the school corridors,
Keeping my face low.
I don’t want to be seen.

I know that if I was seen,
I would be laughed at.
People would call me names,
They would throw stuff at me.

Some others would throw me malicious glares,
Daggers that pierce through my every cell.
No one will speak to me.
I am alone.

To some, I was invisible.
To some, I was inhuman.
To some, I was food.
To some, I was psycho.

Whenever school ended,
I would take the train home.
See people chat on the train,
And get jealous.

Why couldn’t I have friends?
Why couldn’t I be human?
If I am myself,
People would kill me.

When I reach home,
I am always in a black room.
There is no light
For a better tomorrow.

Every day is the same.
I should not exist.
Everyone tells me that,
In their silent stares.

Since when was it okay to be different?
If you’re different, you’ll end up like me.
You will not have a voice.
You will not have a heart.

It is a world of darkness.
A world where people on magazine covers are the most perfect.
A world where dreams are cut short before they can even begin.
A world where the silence screams to make you silent.

Can someone just help me?
Break out of this traumatic state.
Let me be myself,
Without this disaster.

Someone, listen to my voice.
Someone, reach out for my hand.
Someone, give me a taste of life.
Someone, paint the colours of my world.

Help. Help.
Someone help.


I want to run.
Fly somewhere far, far away
From this dreaded place.
And never ever come back.

How can the presence of someone
Make such a huge difference?
My tears are suddenly dry
From trying to cry.

Tuesday, 7 February 2012


Can I recreate myself?
The self I lost
To the unstoppable forces
Of emotion?

Sunday, 29 January 2012


I was staring at the blue sky again. Thinking. Mulling. Pondering. In front of me, I could see a building, shining a bright gold. When I looked at the clouds, I could see a face. A face I had encompassed my thoughts in these past few weeks.

I had not noticed someone creep up behind me. “Hey,” he sat, next to me. I could see his eyes were as dense as most. I turned, and looked at him. Though I was a day older, he was taller. Larger. Perhaps it was due to the upbringing. He hadn’t a potbelly like mine. “Just thinking some stuff,” I answered.

“Life in Singapore must be hard, huh,” I heard him clack open a canned drink, then gulp. I was sure that wasn’t beer. He was not even sixteen yet.

“Yeah, it is.” I agreed. Above me, the clouds morphed into a face I was thinking of. Speak to me, I pleaded to the clouds. Speak to me again. Of course, I knew my pleas would never reach him.

“Let’s head inside,” he suggested. We both walked into the company around the rectangular table and sat down. I could hear the sound of the folding of paper. The notes to be burnt to heaven. I joined in, letting my delicate fingers gently push against the golden pieces. Suddenly, the discussion was about me.

“Max,” I heard my fourth uncle speak. He was the cheery one, always making jokes, even at such a sorrowful occasion. How suitable for him to be the one changing the focus of attention to me. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

I jolted. A question I had never prepared myself for. What do I say? What do I say? I could feel the audience noticing my pause. I shrugged in response. “No, I guess.”

“Then--” he was cut short by my eldest cousin. “Are you gay?”

More stares. I hated that question. It was against my moral values to define my sexuality. But nobody around the table knew that. So I had to play along like a tame little puppy.

The audience seemed to notice my hesitation, and translated it as unwanted news. Fourth Uncle was first to break the ice. “We won’t blame you,” he said. I could see the eyes around the room fill themselves with a simple want to know. I could tell they really wouldn’t blame me if I was. That was what their eyes showed. Never doubt someone’s eyes. At least I knew these were my family, the people who would accept me no matter what colour I wore, what I become. They would respect whatever life I chose, as long as I was a good person.

My eldest cousin taunted again. He acted all fairy-like. “I mean, we wouldn’t mind, yeah?” I managed to smile at that stereotypical image of gay people. At least I knew I wasn’t like that.

I closed my eyes, winced again at the image of the perfection of my dreams, then whispered, “I guess I’ll never know until I experience it.”

Friday, 27 January 2012


People tell us
That we should strive to be different,
And yet,
We all want to be 'normal'.


A human life,
Is just a routine.
You do the same things over and over,
With some differences.


Let me shroud myself in a cloak,
And stab myself with a dagger.
Let me burn on the fuel,
And don't extinguish the fire.


The last time I looked out at stars
I was thinking,
Why was life
So much like the sky?

The blackness represented the void,
Where nothing happens.
Where nothing grows.
Where no life breathes.

In this void,
We meet different people.
These people
Are the stars.

They slowly enter our life
And fill up the void.
Throughout our years,
They become constellations.

When you meet your soul mate,
That person will outshine
All the other stars
And become our sun.

This sun becomes
A half of our world.
It shines in the day,
Makes all the stars disappear.

But when it is night,
The sun is gone.
The stars are back again.
Shining like before.

But sometimes,
When we are still forever in the night,
We crush the stars
That filled our universe.
Extinguishing their every light.

Before they shine could try to shine brighter,
They get crushed.
We pick them out,
One by one,
And throw them into black holes.

These stars that we throw,
Will never become invisible.
They will still be there.
Shining in another person’s night sky.

Saturday, 21 January 2012


When we begin a piece,
It always starts with something familiar.
But when we move on,
We can't seem to move on.

Thursday, 19 January 2012

Double Confession

Double Confession

Monday, 16 January 2012

Double Confession - Sneak Peek

Double Confession - Sneak Peek

Saturday, 14 January 2012


I know.
People change.
But can't you at least see
The NOW me?

Friday, 13 January 2012



Wednesday, 11 January 2012


Nails scratch
A long, resounding screech,
On something I shouldn't be
Clinging on.

Monday, 9 January 2012


I don't mind you
Twisting me around your fingers.
Just don't
Drop me
When you're done.


Oh, how I wish I could.
But then again,
I wouldn't want to.


When you're close,
You notice
Every one of his
Minute details.

Heart Break

To say the pain
Is like standing on fire,
And drowned by the big blue sea,
Is really an understatement.

Death was not
Worst than
The torture
Of heartbreak.

Friday, 6 January 2012


His isolated presence
Is a constant reminder
That I have him
No more.


Will I
Still have these
Good dreams

Can't the time
Just freeze
So this moment would last
An eternity?

Forever in bliss
Is completely
Different from
Forever in torture

I don't want
To imagine
The future
For it goes downhill.

Just let this moment
Go on

Don't stop.
Please, don't stop.
Please, just don't stop.
Please, just don't stop now...


I see the fingers,
Straining to reach.
Something that fell,
Completely underneath.

Why did the grip relax?
Or did the opposition
Tug itself completely free,
Lost to nature?

The hand once held
My whole world
Now it only leaves
The shadow.

The hand doesn't give up
It doesn't stop its search
Until it finally will,
The object will not come back.

Shadows make the hand
A complete havoc.
It cannot be consoled
Or prevented.

Will the object come back?
Or perhaps it is time
To look for another object,
That won't let itself free.

This state of pain
Is completely unbearable.


Broken up,
It speaks.
A piece falls off,
Then another.

It won't stop,
Until barely nothing is left.
This pain that grips and clutches,
And tears.

Wednesday, 4 January 2012


Worthy of gold,
It has no value.
Separation, Isolation.
Complete Ignorance

How does one
Measure its value?

Is it a treasure,
As it is to the bookworms,
And the teachers,
For its wonder?

Is it a foe,
As it is to performers,
And those with broken hearts,
The true enemy?

A silence may be nothing,
And everything,
At the same time.


To be rid of emotion,
Would be such a pleasure.

To get away from anger,
No fumes, no flames.
No complete destruction
In anyone's wake.

To leave sadness's embrace
No more demotivation,
No more time wasted,
For useless outbursts.

When jealousy is gone,
No more fights,
No more competition,
For things we hardly need.

To leave happiness's smiles,
No more fake smiles,
No more perky edginess,
To make others stand on edge.

To love no more,
No more worries,
No more troubles,
About 'loved' ones.

For to be rid of feelings,
Altogether, ends everything.


When you see him,
It's like seeing sunshine.
You're blinded,
But you can't stop looking.