As I stood facing a family portrait
nailed to a pale yellow wall,
I saw a girl who was my replica:
She put on a smile and stood proudly
in a graduation robe, posed with two gentlemen beside her
and an older couple in front.
How could I belong in there?
That girl in the portrait must be a mistake
It's just a group of strangers living under one roof all along,
void of feelings, warmth and love.
I shouldn't belong in there
I grew up with a broken soul-
sadness and loneliness filled me whole;
pain and tears had taught me to be strong-
yet my heart's shattered
from time to time, in repeated cycles.
I belong to nowhere;
perhaps it's just a coincidence.
Whoever put that girl there
should paint another prettier girl
to replace her.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 3:22 AM UTC
The day she refused to converse with me,
I was sad and pondered what it could be.
She passed by me without saying a hi,
Let alone bothering to say goodbye.
Her mind was filled with incessant bad thoughts,
Like ropes tied around her neck in huge knots.
Worries and doubts stayed rooted in her mind,
Grief and frustration- that's all she could find.
Unease and fearful of those snide comments
From those people whom she loathe with laments,
Soon she avoided me with suspicion-
Thought I befriended with ill intention.
When I gave her a gift to bid farewell;
A meal in which I'd got no right to dwell.
She sat furthest from me- I'm a virus.
She didn't want what I'd given-it's not hers.
Then she left quietly on her last day,
This I remembered: early part of May.
A colleague said she had left a present
Without telling me, to my amazement.
When I was given her gift later on,
I wished to apologise, but she'd gone.
Why didn't I realise sooner? It's too late
To cry over spilled milk. Perhaps that's fate.
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 7:43 AM UTC
The agony was too much
and the memories suffocated
her until she could not breathe.
For two months she found herself
in a hospital, for she thought
seeking Death would be
a better choice. Jagged red
lines smiled at her
cunningly from her own wrists.
The doctors, nurses and her family
kept her far away from
her best friend, a sharp
point dripping in crimson.
She wondered where it was;
if she was going to see
it again. For days, she
slept and wished
she could sleep forever.
But one day she was told
by the doctor
there was nothing more to be
done to keep her from
thinking the bad thoughts,
except to prescribe drugs
to make her either numb
or fine for a while.
So she went back home,
back to the empty spaces,
back to those horrible memories-
that time of the year
she could not forget, no matter how
she tried to push them to
the back of her mind. Then
she found the farewell letter
she had written two months ago,
meaning to say goodbye
and never, ever come back.
She read it and the agony
came back once again.
It was too much and
the memories suffocated her,
until she could not breathe.
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 7:27 AM UTC
THEN
You were a pillar, sturdy and tall.
I desperately clung onto you.
Dependent, naive and still young,
I was ignorant to the fact that you
woke up too early and came back too late.
Until one day you collapsed
in front of me
and I fell along with you.
My fault, my fault, my fault.
Those bleak nights with your absence,
I stared into the darkness that seemed
to stretch for eternity.
I could not stop my cheeks from getting wet;
that saltiness that seeped into
the corners of my mouth.
No. I could not stay like this forever.
I need to change.
I need to be independent, because I'd
lost you.
I don't want to lose you
any further.
NOW
You were once my anchor
to keep me from sinking.
Yet I've learnt to stand
on my own two feet.
You have finally returned,
but you are no longer as strong
as before.
It's okay, it's okay, it's okay.
You are shrinking- more bones
are protruding.
You move slowly, meticulously,
as though relearning how to
walk again.
I admire your resilience;
your diligence to get better.
No more waking up too early
and coming back too late.
We are both aging, yet
your rate of getting sunken cheeks
and sagging skin appears
to speed up too fast,
too soon.
If time could rewind, I want you
back to when you were still
tall and radiant, and that
I would get a chance to love you
more- I would not be a burden
to you, then.
What has been done cannot be undone.
So I embrace the changes
and learn to love you
in the present and many
years to come.
Thank you for being my pillar.
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 7:08 AM UTC
I wish I'd known my expiry date.
Everyday, the clock ticks away,
counting down the seconds
to the day I can bid farewell
to this world. A worthless girl
soon to disappear, like a
spark that dies off when the
fuel runs out. I'm a piece
that does not fit right into
a puzzle. I'm a wanderer
longing for a resting place.
Perhaps it is better to say
goodbye now than to live
a life of hurt and emptiness.
When can I finally get to leave?
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
A drug is not like a candy
Displayed in a grocery store.
It's just a short-term remedy
To control your symptoms quickly.
I think you would have heard before-
A drug is not like a candy.
Ever heard of drug allergy-
Like rashes or blisters which tore?
It's just a short-term remedy
Not to cure disease totally.
Some take it like everyday's chore.
A drug is not like a candy
To rid pain and make you happy.
Think of those side effects and more!
It's just a short-term remedy.
Try to learn pharmacology,
I bet you will find it a bore.
A drug is not like a candy;
It's just a short-term remedy.
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 9:30 AM UTC
Words travelled from mouth to ear
behind cupped hands.
Hush!
someone reprimanded. Not so loud!
I
know, another voice said.
Can
you stop pinching me?
Hear
me out! This so and so...
You
are brilliant! Let's
spread this juicy
news and put
the blame and
shame on
her.
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 8:52 AM UTC
there were occasions
when your forehead cracked
against the white tiled wall;
your cheeks swelled up from
the impact against the underside
of the porcelain wash basin;
your palms bearing red angry
lines and claw marks in tiny crimson
crescents, and those faded scar marks
decorating your once emaciated body?
Do you still remember
your hair being teared out
from the roots, your fingers
forced backwards with such
brutal force until you thought
you won't be able to write anymore;
your blistered back from the
simmering liquid leaking from the white
kettle, not to mention those blue-black
marks on your chest and upper thighs?
Do you still remember
those days you stood like
a statue facing a wall of whiteness,
your tiny feet with flaking soles
fitted within an equally small square tile
and you wondered how long to mealtimes,
bedtime to rest your aching body?
You continued to live through
the whole cycle again:
Wake up after being yelled at
to get out of that bed.
Eat.
Stand.
Being showered hastily because
you were like a disease to be
avoided at all cost.
Get lost and go to bed.
Repeat.
When people asked about
your scars and bruises,
you told them you fell
down accidentally and that
you were careless.
They must not know the truth;
you must not tell them.
One word out-
Bang!
You are dead.
One thing that you would remember
were the words that made you
feel worthless and a waste
of space, the screams, the
death threats, the insults.
Those were like knives plunged
into your battled body, deep into
your shattered heart, which hurt
more than those pains inflicted
in your weakened flesh.
You tumbled down into a deep
never-ending darkness,
wishing you could forget
and never had to relive
those memories again.
As if you could.
You couldn't forget so easily,
no matter how hard you'd tried.
So you continue to feel all
the pain,
except now you are the one
hurting yourself.
It's your own fault.
You have only yourself to blame.
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 1:49 AM UTC
I wrote down those words "I'm missing you"
on a blank paper
a hundred times, thinking about
your brown eyes and a smile
that could melt my heart instantly.
Like a small teddy bear,
I want to put you in my pocket
to keep you with me.
I wrote down those words "I'm missing you"
on a tall mirror.
Staring at my own reflection,
I longed for you warm hug
and your gentle pats on my back.
It's gonna be okay,
you would assure and I would believe
everything you said.
I wrote down those words "I'm missing you"
with a blue penknife,
sending streams of dark crimson lines
down my arms to the floor.
You have left me and disappeared;
you've been gone for so long.
Before you left, you gave those last words:
Don't miss me ever.
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 1:42 AM UTC
Outside the window
the south wind goes slow,
caressing young leaves on trees.
Look at those sparkling fresh leaves!
They seem to wave hi
to a butterfly
fluttering freely around,
wings beating without a sound.
Little birds chirp bright
under the sunlight,
on top of the cars zooming
by-a symphonic humming.
On the opposite
a tall building sits,
with windows staring like eyes;
walls in cream and polished nice.
Enjoying the last sunset's fading glow,
I stood still, gazing out of my window.
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 8:44 PM UTC