What If one day
I Die
Would you cry for me?
Would you be happy that I'm gone?
Would you be free from the burden that I've caused?

Because to tell you honestly
I'm tired...I'm so... so tired of
Me being me
because being me is what you hate,
Its what stresses you out, and,
Its what you don't need in your life.

A burden, A mistake, A failure
Whatever I do... these words
are solid written in my face.
No amount of achievements,
accomplishments or solutions
can change your way of seeing me this way

Sad it may seem.
I can't change what you think of me
trust me, I tried, I tried so hard.

Ever had that time where,
You stop in the middle of a movie
Because you realize
It ain't real...

Then you close your TV
Or your book with that
Same old love story
Leaving you
with that ache,..that pain
right between your heart
as you close your eyes
tears suddenly fell by
Because all you can remember is
It ain't real...

Its never been real
It never happened
Not to me that is.

Every Disney movie
Always end in this illusion that
"They all live happily ever after"
But actually they didn't
They never did

Because life is filled with
Lies and mistakes
There's no escape to it
Or detour to avoid it
you just simply have to
endure it

Pain and despair is meant to be felt
Hiding it will only make it worse
Because piling it up, makes your load
That... much... heavier

Then one day, you'll find yourself
Hating everything around you
Text, pictures and even food
Nothing makes you happy anymore
Nothing...

But then again,
For all you know it

I ain't real

Time:
a perpetual motion,
an unstoppable force.
The present:
a constant collision with
an immovable object:
the past.

A picture may paint a thousand words, but a word can communicate a thousand images.

In the evening
I heard passers talking
about work that morning;
about numbers and deadlines
and the contracts for signing.
All the while
the evening sky was gifting
salmon wrapped cloud parcels
to the west,
the northeast dimmed
while the shy night hemmed
a starry sequined dress
but the passers only had green
in their eyes

She considerately held a smile
and strained to conceal the strain
of politeness,
asking correct questions
with an ear of patience
conveying interest
to spare feelings from being hurt.
Though I held a mask
of being fooled by her falseness
we knew we knew
and yet the charade continued.
I admire her for that.