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.
For A Writer Without A Pen
Wednesday, 29 February 2012
Friday, 24 February 2012
Thursday, 23 February 2012
Pay
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.
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
Sunset
A setting sun
A ball of orange
A glow of hope
A calming warmth
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.
Again.
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.
Again.
Thursday, 9 February 2012
Acceptance
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.
Run
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.
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.
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