I

I observe my mother
she is brave and strong
And then I look at me
doing all things wrong

I have three close friends
who I treasure dearly
But the problem is
they show it back so scarcely

I believe in God
love Him so much too
though it become so hard
to always follow through

I am not near perfect
flaws are my constant friends
Knowing I have to change
right before it all ends

With your eyes constantly pouring concealed thunderstorms

Do you even remember what it’s like not to squint through the blur?

My soul is bled out upon the foundation you call perfection

On the asphalt and cement you disguised as hard work

My body has nothing left to offer your expectations

After turning from good enough to being better than the rest

How did we end up chasing the impossible?

Being so scared of failure we **** ourselves for anything less than flawless.

When did it all lose meaning?

The fast paced world stealing away our time like we owed it something.

I lost my passion to the critique of others.

Forgot my name when I took someone else’s.

I took a gun and shot my self.

And a ghost rose to greet the world.

I woke up today and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

The grips of a dream tightly coiled around my throat as it forced me to acknowledge it.

I was a failure.

That was basically it.

And I knew that grades don’t define who you are, but they get you into university, they get you a good course, a good degree, a good job.

Money.

And then I won’t have to suffer living without it.

And I knew that money don’t buy you happiness, but they buy peace of mind.

How many times has my mum stayed awake worrying about how much to give and how much to keep?

One time my mum refused to send money back for the treatment of her grandmother. Not because she was selfish, but because my brother and I had taken to crying because we had no lunch.

She found out I hid away in libraries to stave off hunger while my brother hid in toilets.

Her grandmother died less than a week later.

The way guilt plagues her every breath even now…

Since then we vowed as a family to share what we have, even if we have so little.

Money buys safety. There are two red flashing lights on my mum’s dashboard of her car. When she took it to a garage she was told she’d have to get it fixed for a ridiculous amount of price because her break pads had no grip and her steering was askew.

She refused to pay that much for her own safety because her mother’s sister just died and someone has to pay the funeral.

Now she prays extra hard every time she drives.

Money buys my future.

Money.

If I fail my exam, I won’t have it.



Now I’m in my brother’s room because apparently I screamed into my pillow and apparently the panic attacks were back.

I called the school for a tactical day-off.

No, the title doesn’t have an underlying tone of sadness.

I just haven’t written anything positive in a while.

And I don’t want this thing to turn into a negativity freefall.

So I’ll list all the things that make me happy (no particular order).

1. Loosening my jeans after I’ve eaten

2. Getting a lone seat on the bus and listening to music

3.  Accidentally matching with my friends without planning it

4.  Stepping on crunchy autumn leaves (kinda why I love Fall so much)

5.  Snapchat memes (mainly from PAMS)

6.  Snuggling with a loved one. Or just Snuggling full stop

7. When leaves start to fall/change colours during Autumn

8. The smell of coffee

9. My faith

10. Writing and Reading

There’s a sob stuck in my throat.
I want desperately to let it out
but there is never the right time.
Not on my bed where my tender mother sleeps,
Not in the morning where I rush to be in time
Nor in the noon where I have to keep up with studies
Never at school where my friends need me to be strong.
But I’m not strong.
I’m not stable.
I’m weak and a second away from crumbling
D
  O
     W
        N
But there is sob stuck in my throat
And it’s stopping me from breathing.

What are you so afraid of?

Getting your heart broken?

You can’t just bury it, under walls and nonchalance.

Let them see it.

Let them see what you have to give.

The brilliance under that smile

the tenderness behind your eyes.

Don’t be selfish.

Don’t keep yourself to yourself.

Because a beauty like yours

passion like yours

soul like yours

is made to be shared

to be

Discovered.

To be loved.

The first thing that greets you in the world is bars.

Strong, iron bars surrounding you on all sides.

It grips your heart so tight that you’ve learned to breathe beneath it.

It’s there when you laugh and there when you cry.

It’s there when you feel like you’ve finally succeeded, reminding you that that it’s fake.

It’s there when you feel like drowning in a flood of confusion and hurt, joining you in pain.

It’s worse because suddenly everyone says that have it too.

So you’re hopeful, desperately longing to understand.

But then you realize it’s nothing but a game to them.

And when you wake up and feel like you can’t breathe,

You can’t understand how anyone in the world would want to have these iron bars.

And it’s not sadness.

It’s not despondency.

It’s a weight on your chest and a fog in your mind.

It’s getting worse.

Help.