eggshell on eggshell
together we are building a fort
towards futures on teetering edges
searching for places brighter than
anything we have ever known.
i am looking at you with eyes
that have been withered by smoke,
jaded and misguided, i fear the day
i think i've found my home because
knowing is the first step to the end
of anything beautiful.
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 4:57 PM UTC
three years ago and here i was
writing about the future as a sky full of stars; but me,
uncertain (i still am) and my sky was
composed of shapeless clouds.
today i am here and i say -
this is but a stepping stone to a greater future for myself!
you see, what happened is
i met a boy who dared me to dream that
we are the couple that sits on the cresent moon,
holding out a fishing rope believing that
we can dance amongst the sky full of stars,
keeping ourselves grounded
not to forget where we came from.
but more often than not,
our dance slows and i am thrown into orbit
the dizzying reality that
i am as unsure as i was three years ago,
where are my stepping stones leading me?
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 4:10 AM UTC
i need to stop seeing you in my dreams, but it feels like the only way i can have that is if i stop dreaming -
completely.
how do you build a wall where imagination and reality coalesce
where the smoke materialises, but fades away
drawing the line between everything and nothing at all.
i want to backspace every moment that happened
rewrite every line of our story,
but i always get as far as that one chapter and then it
hurts too much to delete.
i am still bound.
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 1:44 AM UTC
you are all i can think about
and it hurts me
thinking about how beautifully perfect you are
in your unpolished image
as you go about your daily life
not knowing that someone out there
looks at you as the gleam of a dark earth
radiant and potent
and it hurts me more
to know that i am completely undeserving
of anything more that i hope for
but it's alright.
you deserve nothing but the best
and if this is what love is,
i will let you go
reluctantly but with heart.
(you were never mine to begin with)
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 4:41 AM UTC
i am trying not to think about
your gentle voice, your soft touch,
the first day you met me:
i felt your eyes, fixed on me as i
tried to sing in harmony.
did you know, then, that i would come to mean this much to you
and you, me?
in the split second our eyes met
i daresay i felt - something.
i'm still trying not to think about ***
you know that i'm the type to believe
in how everything happens for a reason and
there is a reason why you are there and i am here.
five months went by in a whirlwind,
and where we were picked up we've ended up
apart, again.
four years and a heartbeat later,
who knows where we'll be?
a reason, a reason, a reason.
you be the logic, i'll be the heart.
but somewhere further down, i know you have it too.
maybe even a bit too much, shrouded in the mystery that is
hidden behind the fortress you have built up around yourself.
i tried to break it down but you always said, "in time".
time, indeed, is what we have.
but time itself does not breed answers
for the answers themselves have already been bred.
and in that everything does happen for a reason -
maybe this is what we're meant to be.
i do wish that life wouldn't be so cruel but
i suppose life has its redeeming qualities too.
(anyway, i guess i kind of like where we are.
i'd rather have this than nothing at all,
and i've never really been one for risk-taking.)
we are the paths we choose to take
and i'll walk with you, down every road
because she may have been with you through your worst,
but everything is relative.
capacity doesn't mean anything;
for as someone once said,
it's the heart that really matters in the end.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 4:40 AM UTC
i wish i was the girl you wrote poetry about. the girl that appears in your dreams and lingers a moment too long, and disappears a moment too soon.
you’d wake up in the morning feeling like something’s missing, with a small hole in your heart that’s wide enough for you to know it’s there but not wide enough to hurt. you will still get out of bed, and go on with life.
sometimes i wish i was the girl you felt sad about. the one where bad timing stood in the way and you blamed it on the workings of the universe but it simply meant that you weren’t meant to be. you wished it was, though - and so do i.
i wish you thought of me in the back of your mind. while you are walking on the roadside, maybe while taking a smoke. i wish the possibility would be as real as it was when we are drunk, because it seems like the only time we can truly acknowledge these feelings are when we aren’t quite ourselves. (isn’t that quite ironic?)
i wish you would love me, but i know enough to know that love is not enough.
but as much as i would love to be this girl, i don’t think i want to be her if it means making you sad. if it distracts you from looking at the beauty of what’s in front of you, if it leaves an empty space in your heart. i want you to have a full heart.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
these past few days; weeks
have been filled with nothing but little talks:
talks about the future, where we're going to be,
how we're going to be, who we're going to be.
everyone says that my future is bright but all i see is
a black hole. people say their future is bleak
but all i see are stars in the night sky, defying
olbers' paradox.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
you and i lost ourselves somewhere along the way.
through the fire, the flames and
the winding tumultuous roads that led us
to a future we once believed was possible,
now the roads are winding down.
but maybe we are tributaries in a river;
holding on to the belief that one day,
you and i will converge once again
in a confluence downstream, where we will
flow to the sea, into the end of time.
i'll see you on the other side,
i'll see you where our rivers meet,
and i'll see you in the sunset
and maybe you will ask me why the sun
changes colour in different times of the day
once again.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC
i am a wave that never reaches the shore,
for i break too soon before the land.
but i've always liked the look of sand:
golden, the colour of dreams, where shells that
hide secrets in them lie; secrets i would like to know.
sometimes they whisper in my ear,
but i never quite get to hear them as they are
swept away faster than they can say goodbye.
maybe one day i'll get there, and i will listen to the
stories they tell. to know how it feels to have reached
the shore, basking in the goldenness of sand, the sun.
but i am not like them.
maybe i will never know.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
just a few weeks ago the future was to me a
faceless mass of mist, reality seemed to be shrouded, clouded -
the uncertainty; i can't say i like it
(i am forever straddling the line between ignorance and truth)
but i must say it provides a sense of comfort; a sense of peace.
it's the knowing that anything can happen, possibility -
truly, ignorance is bliss - it's like a pillow upon which you rest your
unknowing head; a blanket which shields you from reality.
but in it's own familiar way, reality breeds security.
the irony! to be secure yet so fearful,
to crave the freedom of choice yet to wish for predetermination,
a twisted security in infinite obscurity.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 11:26 AM UTC