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 Jun 2017 LifeLivedLabeled
ryn
careless fingers,
they will
always take.
they never
will learn that...
fragile hearts
don't just break.

so brittle they crack
under pressure.
then into
a million shards,

they
shatter.
 Jun 2017 LifeLivedLabeled
ryn
Uncomfortable within this skin.
My joints complain
and muscles scream.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."


My mind in shambles.
Ideas incoherent
and thought processes
sluggish at best.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."


My emotions are in
total disarray.
I'm not happy
yet I'm not anything at all.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."


My insides twisting,
splitting.
Every grain and fibre
set on fire.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."


If this is normal,
I'm petrified with
the prospect of
what isn't.
 Jun 2017 LifeLivedLabeled
ryn
I consumed a small
vial of courage today.

And it got me out of my mind,
my aches
and my bed.

It got me showered,
dressed
and out the door.

It helped me on the bus,
through the rumble of
the exhausted engine.
It deflected the stares from eyes
who seemingly judged.

It placed me at work.
Fuelled me through
the sledgehammer ticks
that echo never ending seconds.

And I eventually find myself home...

So I consumed a small
vial of courage today.
And I'm brave enough
to admit that I'm afraid.

Afraid that I may be running out.
Can I take a break
And watch you
Split the sea
Into a kaleidoscope
Of blue and green geometry?
I think the sun just blinked,
All was dark for
A second,
A black flash,
A blink of a storm-white eye,
And nobody noticed,
But us.
Daydreaming on my break at work.
love is crooked lines. love is eyes that sting. love is short people tiptoeing. possibly the smell of a forest fire. love is the waves crashing against the shore. the sky changing hues. a watercolour palette with all the neon colours now blue. love is pairs of birds above us, fleeing from the cold. or maybe a curtained window blocking our view of the world. be my guest, interlock fingers. kiss rosy cheeks.  light the bridges. pay to be on board a shipwreck. love is you in the hallway, asking me to leave. love is okay, i'll go soon. love is you're right, i'll go now.
IVE BRUISED MY KNEES A SHADE OF SUN-KISSED INDIGO ATTEMPTING TO CRAWL AFTER YOU ON THIS UNMARKED TRAIL YOU PICKED OFF-HANDEDLY FROM THE MAP YOU KEEP IN YOUR BACK POCKET. I'VE SUNKEN SO DEEP THE TRENCHES HAVE BECOME THE SECOND HOME I SHARE WITH CREATURES OF THE NIGHT, THE ONE'S MY MOTHER TAUGHT ME TO FEAR. THERES ONE SHES OVERLOOKED, THERES ONE IVE OVERLOOKED AND ITS BEEN STARING AT ME IN THE FACE UNBLINKINGLY. I BLEED CONSTELLATIONS, THE ONLY DIFFERENCE FROM THE PAST OF MY SHADOW IS THAT SHE DID IT FOR YOU AND IM ONLY DOING SO RIGHT NOW WELL BECAUSE THE SKY'S A LITTLE EMPTY AND IT'S HARD TO FIND MY FOOTING IN THE DARKNESS, WITHOUT A JAR WITH THE HEARTS OF COLLECTED FIRE-FLIES THAT YOU KEPT AROUND YOUR NECK. WHERE MINE USED TO BE. I WONT BRUISE FOR YOU. NOT TODAY, NOT TOMORROW. NOT EVER. I AM SO MUCH MORE THAN THIS.
late bus rant
bury me underground with your sweet talk because darling we both know there's tons of it to go around
as plentiful as the soil found in your backyard, both you never gave a second thought about
say it in a nonchalant way as if you really couldn't care less if i was caught in the storm

lie to me! let me delude myself for a moment!
give me a reason to wallow in my own ditch, the one i dug for the big bad wolf i heard that was coming this way
i was free falling, i lost my bearings on the ground as the omega and alpha diluted with each other forming a shade of indigo

indigo.

indigo reminds me of the sunsets we used to see, the occasional yet daily coat the sky would drape itself in
but as if it got tired of the same old same old shade! same old story that has just begun after it the last page was flipped.

so here i stand, tracing the sky. trying to find that familiar hint of indigo, just to have something to grasp onto
it's gone and all is lost. lost and gone like many things i used to parade around my backyard because all the eyes I needed was mine.
i didn't require permission or say, acceptance for whatever i beheld. i didn't require a panel of judges with set opinions no matter
how many times i changed the game!

i had you and that was something i lost in the storm. regretfully. necessarily.
i could search the woods once more  from treetop to the smooth bottoms of azure blue pebbles or i could learn the art of letting go.
in all my emptiness i am trapped in this sun bleached room once more


i can't ever take you there or show it to you but i can tell you what it feels like if you lean in close and just. listen.

it's like i'm trapped within an ice cube but there's nothing there to trap me, it's cold. cold and lonely you could say.


hold on,
let me just grab my suitcase full of nothing.
following your heart as if a flight of birds were the only trace of memory of something that was amiss (you)
but something taught in fairytales how wronged it is
how wronged the feeling of what was supposedly fate
some bitter sweet written fairytale without an ending in sight
this dilemma i must face does indeed bring me disgrace
and I’m sorry
horribly sorry
maybe i’ve got a hole in my head where everything waterfalls in and drips out slowly
taking
its
own
sweet
time

fruit tea in hand i am exposed to the wilderness of the light misplaced in the night
taking shelter in some temporary cafe soon to be gone
just by a few months
like us, most probably

mixture of emotions i can’t quite comprehend
nonetheless the hues and tones all blended together like lemon juice
makes the palette very sour
like the taste buds of your tongue when you snap at me
and i  don’t put up a fight
words take flight before tomorrow even makes its stand

the sun washes and spills like watercolour
and i’m alone in this coffee shop just off the road







maybe the concept of love is unbelievably hard for someone like me to grasp
so eager to fall so quick to lose the game
when all i’ve ever seen is the quick glimpse of love on my broken television screen
static and all
the path chosen in the path to go
the only picture i’ve ever had of this mystical thing was from a blind artist
so beautiful in his work and yet everything’s nearly see through

boy with his dozens of crowns
nose in the air
the beautiful boy i love.

though i’d like to crush glass bottles with my palms
boy with words of ecstasy, vibrant as  peacocks
electric blue
but i’m not a poet of love of any kind.
written when i was wasting my time away in a cafe off the road, thinking about words spelling out r-e-j-e-c-t-i-o-n.
i’m not another ****** card for your deck
and bothering and trying is just
         another leap off a possible cliff except you have a blindfold around your eyes
you may not know this
but its cutting into your skin
and the drops in mood seem steeper each time i return to this rabbit hole, just before it gets too dark

is it really worth trying so ******* a continuous basis when your wings have been clipped ages ago



why do we even bother
      then again why am i speaking on behalf of you?
         why do i even bother
             it’s always thunderstorms and rain with an occasional glimpse of sunshine that seems to be a welcoming party for the hurricane
                   to think that i manage to mask my emotions so well i’m nearly fooled into thinking the same frightens me a bit
take for granted to an extent i’ve become indifferent despite the fact it’s still behind my eyes

close to malfunctioning but i can’t get it out of my system
it’s like grasping sand in your palms and all you can do is observe as each grain slips from between your fingers - a great descent
it’s just the reoccurring feel of never being good enough i do suppose
  whatever y’know
fades in. there's laughter and cheers found amidst the new ties between the two that multiplies into an odd number of 5. it's late with dim lighting, character 1 takes shelter with character 2. conversations that are kept for caffeine indulging individual ensue. they mumble about their fears and thoughts and pacify each other with sentences that caress ankles like waves. end scene.

cut to the early morning scene that trails onto the lunch time crowds, character 1 and 2 interlinked regardless of how fast the clock ticks. promises about the water being thicker than blood made and hands held before the bell rang. native and young fingers, interlocked, close. 'i'll see you later.' only one word could be used to describe that tone - vibrant like a shade used to describe sunflowers. end scene.

times past like old photographs piling up to my knees on the ground and the scene it fades in different hues and voices. not the familiar ones that belonged to a multiple of 2. no, they're sitting across the hall oblivious to the electricity running beneath us. same faces with different stories while i took my leave, the prolonged leave that continues as my absence runs from a sick leave to an exit. i think about it from time to time, the water in my palms weigh more than the blood running through these veins. stories with alternate endings that continue to exist despite putting the book away, end scene.

cue flashback that's tainted with a days old dust, i looked at the pale blue ocean swirling beneath us like the hidden tales buried. emotions locked away by those who turn a blind eye and are too caught up with their bargaining of the 'fittest' competitions. the place i used to hold on the shelf, removed for bits and pieces of lives around me being carried out without the main protagonist. the waves stayed as they slowly became nothing but a smudge on a watercolour canvas, like the small mark you all left on my existence. no chances to say goodbye even though i practiced it to myself, under my breath from time to time. it falls out of my mouth and lands oddly. never expected but then again is anything really ever? the silence was the print on the answer sheet that the group left in my mind, filling up the void that now takes it place.
the distance between us      and me.
voice like a overused tire by the roadside, not to be missed as is drowned out by the rapid voices that fall into place like a waterfall. as we left that island behind it was really just me who left it all behind, ties broken, water spilt into puddles on the pavement. ‘goodbye.’, voice is soft and isn't heard by those surrounding, not like it ever was to begin with. fade out.

(((( water evaporates, blood leaves a stain))))
knives pressed into my spine is nearly like a regular tune that comes on through my headphones. fear that cripples the living daylight out of me and resolves with me living in the darkness for a week odd. unexpected, once more. then again wasn't morals plastered with words in neon encoding, 'expect the unexpected'. played me out better than a monopoly game and faster than a game of UNO.
detached and without a cause, lacking the need to put on a life jacket to face the indigo currents that leave a bruise in a similar hue.
roll the credits boys, there's nothing to see here.
trying repeatedly was one-sided and drenched in thoughts of my own that formed clouds above your head that was rooted to the ground. i am so out of breath trying to race through makeshift bright-light stores in the night when it fuels your adrenaline and it's just a chase. it's a one way tug-of-war and no one's trying to win me over. wouldn't want anyone to shower on your beach cocktail party now, would we? an emotional imbalance would be such a bother. unable to mimic your laughs but to sympathise with your cries in the bitter nights. disappearing faster than it hits the pond's surface without a trace, nobody remembered nor tried to fish it out with a net of memories.
it's 2am and i can't even hear myself think and --
the whole routine of silhouettes watching me take my leave without any say reminds me of the insignificance present through my veins. no requests to stay for a few days, a week maybe and hopefully even longer. maybe people wind up being more important to me than i am to them.
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