You came into my life
(If it was a dream),

I was so happy —
Now that I had someone,
(Indeed, it was a dream).

I thought, at least I deserve love now,
But you told me to wait.
You told me to put all my sadness
Back into my mouth, chew it,
And embrace.

You made me promise to never cry over you —
But
What about the things I was already holding?
Do I have to cry over them again,
Like I used to?

Maybe...
Maybe it was too much —
To feel joy
Just from the idea
Of sharing my sadness with you,
Which I never got the chance to do.

Who?
Me? That's who I’m supposed to depend on?
I’ve already tried that.

You told me to wait,
And I will.
But who do I confide in?
Poetry?

...That’s what I thought of.

You hang around for a living,
Somewhere between all the land and the sky.
Being by never forgiving,
Nobody knows you and neither do i.

I’d sing you a song when we’re all alone,
I may imagine you heard and you knew.
You wouldn’t care for me anyway,
your eyes to the sky as it all fades to blue.


You hang around for a living,
Blown in the wind like a pinned butterfly.
Being with out ever living,
Some of us wonder if you want to die.

Do you want to die?

How i wonder, ever wonder.

I tried to touch the stars last night
So i took a chair and turned off the light

I reached higher than I ever tried
I saw them already, so beautiful, I even cried

But I lost balance and the chair fell
The light went on, and I was back in my cell

these people

I can’t see them anymore
I don’t want to see them anymore
I have no desire to see them anymore

I never think about
phoning them or
messaging them or
stopping by to say “hi.”

I don’t care about
what’s happening
in their lives or
who they’re dating
or what memories
we had together

yet they insist, they demand
that I visit them
that I sit down with them
that I talk about nothing important
with them

and I can’t say no

because I know how it feels:

during those times,
when I was down and out
and needed someone
to turn to, to talk to
but there was no one around
I felt the terror & the darkness
constricting my cold and lonely heart
as all the vitality and connection was draining
from my ventricles of ire
like blood from a stone

and so much of that
over a lengthy period of time
has made me a lot stronger,
more independent from people
and maybe even borderline aloof
from all human interaction

I no longer need them
I no longer want them around

but I can’t let anyone
feel that same way
that I felt

so long ago.

pitiful.

The voices that I used to hate

That berated me, hated me

Filled me with doubt and fears

Depressing, anxious tones

A chorus made of a broken soul

At least those voices of mine

Tell me that they love me still

After what you've left me as

the death: beginning

last night
a part of me died
and i hadn't realized it was taking its last final breath
until i finally couldn't feel it anymore

no amount of music, no amount of talking would blur it out
once again, a death in silence
i couldn't even cry or remorse for what i lost

such parts have died before
but this was my last try(i said so)
and it just hurt so much

i slept with a hollow
woke up with overwhelming numbness
feeling so, so blue

like you could hit me, and i'd cry for what of me died
not because of the pain
because it didn't even hurt—just went numb
and by that—
it hurt so much i didn’t have words

i laughed, went for a walk, listened to music, tried to talk
nothing.
it wasn't going to return.
it was gone.

the urge

like when light leaves the dying’s eyes
like when you watch someone take their final breath,
realize it's never going to come back

like a candle flickering for one last time—
the spoiled wax, of no point
like a bulb going out, its ligament being torn
like a child growing up, having seen oh so much—
they just don’t have any dreams anymore

a part of me died
and today i organize its funeral
with no watchers, no stand-bys
just like always

and to think i'd gotten anywhere
with understanding and accepting—
nowhere.
not even with people,
because they're the ones who killed me

the urge to make the call, ask—beg—why’d you **** me like that?
but just—who would even understand?

i can't even see the screen, writing this with a vision so blurry
eyes so swollen—i even breathe funny
i woke up
wanted to sleep
chose to get up
wish i could’ve slept, because i’ve been crying since

it’s been hours
i was lying curled up
begging for someone to listen
to hold—to just tell me that it’s alright
that i still can be loved like i’m whole

and the funny thing—
i’ve reached the number of deaths
no one in one lifetime could have caused them all

but i let people do it—
the same way, the same streaks


the acceptance

no hopes anymore
no positivity—
it’s just difficult
how do you suppose i can just get back up?

i taste the salt in my tears
find my nose runny

i went back to where i fought so hard to get out from
i felt it—
the death

how it went from barely breathing
to not breathing at all

how it went from staying still at the edge of hope
to crashing against all borders and falling off

how it felt like i’d been drowned, thrown, teared through, broken, dissipated
i—i just can’t

i’ll stop crying in a bit
and just go back to living
except with another part of me dead

i don’t even know how i shall mourn her death
too dumb, but she just had hopes

i’ll wipe my nose, wipe away my tears
get the ice-pack to bring down the swelling
for once drained, once it’s all out

either way, i’ll be a shell of what i’ve been all this while
a bit more hollow on the inside

this time it made no noise
the fall seemed to be never-ending
usually i heard it break, scatter—
the fragments and shards—i picked them up piece by piece

but this time—
it just fell
freefall?
i’m barely alive now

as long as this body exists
with the slightest of life on it
there will be no mourners for all the parts of me that are no more


the questioning

i’m a museum of everything i’ve ever loved
and there’s graves within me
of places where i lost a part of me

and often i don’t remember them all
but sometimes, when a situation asks one kind of mine
i step by the graveyard of my own self
and often mourn them myself

i meet people
and i give them some bits of me
ones i didn’t know existed long before i’d met the person in front of me

and then that part stays with them
they decide—often unknowingly—that it’s in their pocket
on their shoulder, in their fist
somehow never close enough to reside in their mind or heart

and yet sometimes
these parts get lost in people
watching them leave

often they’re simply handed back
sometimes they’re killed

and i need no understanding of how i end up giving them out
like handing candies to children on a halloween night
uncaring who gets which one, no favoritism
blindly trusting, i just head straight right in

always unknown what and how much they hold of mine
i didn’t even plan on trusting or attaching
and yet somehow i did
and then i’m left with nothing but the mere spirit

feeling the hollow
and the lost
how do i not cave in to death
and keep going on like a fool?
how do i live on when i'm barely alive anymore?

the dreaming

grief is sickening, like long aged sour frosting
numbness woven into it, disturbing and devasting and what not
it breathes like something real, coils in the pit of my stomach leaving my body to ache in silence, to reel, feel, and fear

sometimes i feel like i'm stitched together by borrowed light
but then i ain't any moon—perhaps a starlight?

there's parts of me made of people and moments that weren't even meant to stay
and in return all the pieces i gave of myself
so it would be right to say i'm a mismatched puzzle, always missing, never complete

this light burns, seethes, flickers, garbles, echoes
this grief doesn't scream, it lingers
like the perfume that i once used to wear
and that old teddy bear to hug
on nights when i used to feel hollowed

it wraps around my bones
around my muscles and my organs
especially my heart and my lungs

and it squeezes in tight, like a rope that's being pulled from both sides
the knot just seems to grow in size, blindness coming around my eyes

only i know it exists, this grief—
as it breathes under my laughter, only i can feel it

it splinters every single breath i try to take
ghosts all my memories, makes me want to forget
like a constant static—this pain is immense

i've got invisible bruises, oh so many—
you'd see them clearer if you were to see the way my eyes lie in their residues

the death: end

i carry my dead
like folded crushed paper notes that i don't wanna let go of
from the maybe's to the it's never happening
it seemed to be something, now it's a sad little nothing

oh so broken, everywhere i go
i offer parts of me like i'm a free use and throw tissue
but what can i do?
when they never ask for how i am—
only ask of me, how can i help?

went down the lane of thoughts—one that busied my mind and made the voices stop
they blurred, i held the blade in my hand, even my mind stuttered
you've been away and strong for so long, not again
but the pain was immense

yesterday a piece of me had died
and today i was told to

how could i possibly accept all this sorrow
and feel my heart do the free falls again and again?

i have three cuts
not proper—the blade was too weak
i tried to write 'loser'
got stuck at the e
lost myself
returned to and wondered:
perhaps i've got a thick skin

disgusts me—my own head
i still keep on wondering
why can’t i just be dead





this could go on and on
i live in a paradox
despise, wanting to still be alive
deny, wanting to die, despite my tries
a misfit in the world of those who seem to be natural
at finding their own places
i have no one to call my own
why would anyone even want me as their own?

Sunset burns
in my eyes
like a piece of nostalgia
not yet extinguished
at the border
of steel and soil
shadows stretch long
become a silent giant
bearing the weight of all these years
standing still in the fissure
of time
at the street corner where
town meets countryside
I remember the sparkling beach
waves murmur in foam
lapping the shores of memory
on the other side
it's the roar of bulldozers
the arousal of city’s neon
sinking into a soft sofa
is what many dwellers here call life
two souls twist in the night
loneliness heavier than our skeletons
two unfamiliar thoughts pressed
in a momentarily illusion
breaths synced like a metronome
falling and rising
searching for any place to land
wind tapping the windowpane
bringing the paleness of dawn
behind us
who are numb to the passion
mountains stretch on
silent and strong
lifting a vast sky
beneath it all
is the weave of city and country
the tangle of dreams and reality
and the countless footsteps
of the faceless
setting out again, fading down the hall
in the morning
faint click of a door
sealing off the shape of
a little comfort.

Warm the heart, in the stillness of night
recalling all that once was.
Time has passed and we've drifted apart,
smiles and stories neatly tucked away.

There are times when the rain speaks,
life’s loneliness passing quietly.
Reflecting on corners where sweet memories were made—
love and affection never to be forgotten.

A place to return to, the warmth of your embrace.
A place to make peace with the wounds I’ve endured.
Step by step, I find my way back
to where I first began.