My anxiety told me that you hated me.
It told me that I was only a burden to you
And I was only a waste of your time.
Although I hoped that it’s not true
And that my mind was just playing tricks on me,
I was convinced.
That's why no matter how much
I wanted to talk things out,
And tell you how stormy my mind was,
I decided to just remain silent—
Even though all I wanted was to scream.
I want to say "I'm sad"
In thirty-three different languages—
Whichever you prefer,
So long as you'd get what my message is.
They asked me to chase the "light" once again,
And I hope they meant "lightnings"
Because I've been wandering around outside
In hopes of getting struck by one.
In between my internal monologues
Are bottomless pits awaiting my next mistake.
And behind my play-pretends
Are quicksands awaiting my heart to ache.
I have been blaming my own reflection.
I guess you can't wish for “a happily ever after"
When you were born to be a monster.
And I guess you need not to be kind
When you are meant to be out of your mind.
Even so, send in the clowns.
Gentle rays of sunlight
Trying to pierce through the clouds,
The morning palette
Has never been this cold.
With the wind's whispers even colder
And the rain playing Russian roulette,
The city started to wonder,
"How perfect could this day ever get?"
And as a child would sing
For the rain to go away,
The storm would answer back,
I noticed that I only write poems
Whenever I get to lose my courage to vent,
Fail to escape from the clutch of rock bottom,
And have no one else to comfortably talk to.
And with the quicksands of changes
That I have never opted to be stuck in,
I guess I am bound to exhaust my hand
Writing poems till the end of my days.
To the pills I taught myself to swallow,
To the realities I was forced to receive,
To the innocent child I was fated to outgrow,
And to my phases that I was asked to forgive,
I am grateful.
It is through you that I have become
The monster I needed to be...
Yet we’re still each other’s prey.
Though I can still see faces in the clouds,
Hear stories only silence can utter,
Have instant regrets of waking up,
And be lost in my own labyrinth,
I am grateful.
I hit the sack way too soon
Through the words of a lullaby.
Entangled with the dream coil,
I found my feet on a foreign soil.
With buildings all gray and sky even darker,
I could not scream nor could I even mutter.
Across the street was a familiar soul—
I was certain, for our eyes met once.
Yet I remained unmoved near a wellhole,
Even though it might be the only chance.
But there must be another way,
I shall ask or go astray.
Clouds now shared the skyscrapers' clothing,
And they led me to a place I found unwelcoming:
An acre of a hundred skeletons,
Guarded by ravens and briars' thorns.
It wasn't a graveyard nor was it a market,
But simply my chained, restricted closet.
All of a sudden, I was being chased,
And went to the woods with an instant regret.
With faltering knees and a heart too dazed,
I heard words I wished I could forget:
"I'm a nightmare cloaked in human skin,
Dwelling on where the light surrenders."
Then a light pierced through my nightly coffin;
Gently, I opened my peepers.
It's not a dream that most would recap,
But it was just enough to wake me up.
I have been writing poems
As if I am forging my own armor
Yet it seems that what I have made
Is more than just a hefty covering
But layers of sky-piercing barriers
And armies of unfamiliar soldiers
With their faces reflected in mine
Yet with all these defenses
It still won't be enough
For the words I bleed fail to nourish
The wise owl I aspire to become
And the weakest of the weak
Isn't invisible behind thick walls
Nor will he ever be invulnerable
To the crippling echoes from outside
And to the storms he sewed himself
But as I am doomed to break
I will always be bound to fall as well
Down the rabbit hole of poetry