She means a whole lot to some people,
Maybe not so much to others but
then again, this heart doesn’t fancy
her to be too sought after!

She’s many things. Pleasant? Yes.
Charming? Definitely. Straightforward? I must hope so. But most of all,
she takes everything in her stride, albeit shakily.
It joys me the slightest seeing her
flustered when making decisions,
But never will I laugh at any.
After all, I am one of them!

She shares some interests of mine
Doesn’t understand the rest, though...
It’s fine, nevertheless, because we
don’t always have to be on the same page,
Suffice that we’re in this at the same pace.

As Billy Joel brilliantly said,
“She’s always a woman to me,”
Well, I’m glad she’s my woman.

We tend to be self-destructive
And for what do we owe that to?
For whom and what reasons,
Do we rip these parts of ourselves,
Trying to piece it in the oddest of places, when so glaringly obvious
that they don't belong?

We cry endless oceans of tears
Drowning in them, bizarrely,
For our own indulgence! But
at the same time, we're
thrashing in the currents,
Praying for dry land while
also surrendering all hope.

Are you familiar with that feeling?
The one you get when you finish a good book,
Or when your favourite TV series ends?
Or even, when one chapter of your life closes,
And you have to step through the threshold of a new page?

Well that threshold, for me
Has always been a great towering wall.
I'd always have the means to climb,
But never will I want to or feel like I should.
It seems that I'm needlessly clutching at straws,
While the guns of change point to my temples, drawn.

Somehow, I eventually had to scale through the fears,
And just nick a few pieces from every threshold I pass.
You know, when days are looking pretty cloudy ahead,
I'll just reach in my pocket and look at them
To see how much has moved, and smile.

You're always stuck in my mind
Like an endless catchy jingle,
When the stars have all aligned
Love and fate start to mingle.
This fool's heart tingles and softens,
A chaos of large proportions.

Somehow you're also the calm
Surely arriving as seas rush to shore,
You got me in that cute palm
Gently nuzzle my heart like never before,
The serenity, the lull of your grin
Takes me to places I've never been.

Take me back, the seat you left is still warm
One more time, I want to dance in your storm.

To not know where's the finish line,
But we swear, we're doing absolutely fine.
At least, we're trying hard this time
To reflect upon the nature of our crimes.

The times we laughed and hugged
Laughed madly as though we're drugged,
And the times we sung of our exploits
To friends' banter that never disappoint.

Lest we forget, times we roamed freely
But failed to enjoy the universe's glory,
Oh the times we're at mamaks watching football
While enjoying roti canai with a side of dhal.

It was small, and as all small things are,
They're always missing from our repertoire.
I'll be sure, the next time we're in luck,
The tighter I'll hold on to every last hug.

Today, I saw a reflection in the mirror.
It looked the same as always, but
somehow in a different light,
And I can't comprehend what's distinct,
But I'm enjoying what I see.
That's a first. An amazingly obscene first.
He grinned, he blushed, into a laughter he burst.

About time I enjoyed his company.
This should be a daily repertoire,
After all those days of nuit noire,
Pirouetting in my own storm with him.
He smiled again, with the
most sincere eyes, and before I went
he said:
"We should do this more often!"

A sin is normally followed by two.
Two palms angled towards the sky,
Twice more times it's repeated in lieu,
Such are us, fledglings who cry and try.

He is all-forgiving, He is kind.
Many a time eyes bright but too blind,
To ask to plead to leave it all behind,
All the while saying 'This is where I draw the line'.

Why should faces shy away, be hidden?
Hesitance, to ask and be forgiven,
Often is done at the hour of eleven,
How i feel so far away from Heaven.

I remember she once told me
that I'm an open book,
All the minute details, intricate
pieces, dishevelled as may be,
Are free to be read and understood.

What a shame that I found
its pages of stories torn to pieces,
Like shattered glass but
worse, now all the words and tales
are jumbled all over the floor.

It's okay, luckily I've got enough tape
to fix and stick the pieces back,
To rearrange the sentences again.
Pray, the pages are in mint condition,
For the next lovely soul to see.

Unexpected, as unexpected may be,
A breath of fresh air that soothes me,
This pulsing flesh had long yearned to see,
A fair maiden, no one fairer than she,
For her many expressions hold the sacred key.

Oh for you dear, I'd outwork the bees.
Shall I say "Je t'aime" or forever hold my peace?
Her lingering voice, soft to the touch as fleece.
You ought to know, at the very least,
The world I would give, for you my Miss.

The sky was dark, rain was pouring
I'm already here and it's so boring
Fresh faces are all around me
Please help me God, I am drowning!

A million pair of eyes were staring,
Followed by millions of voices screaming
As i walked down the dark hallways,
"I can't do this" i hear myself saying.

The clock goes 'tick-tock' as i walked the blocks,
Through days of laughter and also shock
The dark clouds lifted and there was light
I found a new home, that needs no lock.

The sky is blue and the sun is shining
I'm sad to go, wow that's surprising!
Thank you for all the bright colours,
My sunshine and flowers, keep on blooming.

The heart's quite a peculiar business huh?
Flushing faces red at the closest convenience,
Beating like mad in that bony enclosure,
So sure that it'll cure yesterday's fissure?

When I say the heart's craft is unusual
Remember the times you rubbished romance?
Look at you now, all smitten and smug,
Forgotten that you once ran out of luck.

That pumping ticker is a cause for conundrum,
Never once thought it's calamitous cavity filled
Used to look at the gaps between my fingers,
Now it's where your slender digits linger.

It's mad how a lump of flesh acts so bizarre,
Where the red doors were once mauled mush,
Stands someone so special, she's salient,
The only medication needed for my ailment.

If you ask me, there's
a concrete reason
As to why the saying,
"Heads over heels"
is correct in every way possible.

You fall, and fall hard.
Till it's almost impossible to get up again.
One astray Jenga block pulled,
Bam.
Down toppling you go. You lose.

I hate your big, gummy smile,
The way I hate Tesco's cereal aisle.

And I'll always love that grainy lane.
Even on days when it looks so plain.

But seriously,
I loathe your gummy grin,
The way I loathe that cereal lane.

Oh dear, knock on my door,
Check if anyone's home.
Ignore the "Closed" sign,
Just stride right inside.
I'll wipe my half-dried eyes
and embrace you again.
Diluted dregs, I'll mix anew,
A full cup you'll have, in lieu.
Have a sip, lift that sour frown,
I promise you'll be safe & sound.

Knock on my door, oh dear,
I'm always idle here.

To the next person I decide
to pour my heart's content to,

Know that you won't be Jon Snow,
Who knows nothing.

Know that I don't hate sand,
And love all, not just the men, but the women and children too.

Know that when I say "I don't freeze",
I always will at the sight of you.

Know that the only thing I can promise,
Is honesty, as the most dishonest Stinson did when he married.

And above all that,
Know that I'll be me.
My most genuine self.
Because that's who you chose to be with.

It's so **** confusing,
The puzzle is complete
but a piece is missing.
Where'd it go?

It's there, right there!
But no, that isn't it!
The grooves don't fit!
It's leaves me irate!

In a furious fit,
The puzzle is scrambled.
Back to square one!
When will this piece be done?!

All I am asking you for
is a hint to your metaphors,
What's written on the papers you tore,
'Cause I always seem to want more
All of them, even neithers and nors.

Another thing I want to enquire,
If you're in a place that's oh so dire,
and need a shrink who's free to hire,
Any work I have, meh, I will retire!
To spur you on, all humour & satire.

If you give me but a glimpse into your world,
Cross my heart I'll show you mine unfurled.

It feels weird, that
I could cherrypick
what to and
what not to remember,
Some things, you
just completely dismiss
till someone says,
"Remember when.."
Then out comes the
flushed memories, idling...
But others?
You can't even scoop out
from that bowl of a head,
Even with a sharpened,
heated spoon.

Hello,
I'm fed up of all your bellows,
Everybody wants to see you go,
Please drown, you crazy **,
Can't wait to shove you down below.

Hi,
I'm tired of all the goodbyes
and countless times I can't buy,
Please don't hand me a 2-ply,
Later when you do die.

Hey,
I'm sick of the sad songs you play,
Leave some gifts, if you may,
Then, be on your ****** way,
your welcome is long overstayed.

Just let the rain fall,
No, I refuse to be hidden
under an umbrella,
Just let it fall,
So I can feel alive again.

Just let the rain fall,
No, I wont beg the Sun
to come and smile again,
Just let it fall,
So I can feel the shivering cold.

Just let the rain fall,
No, I refuse to go
inside for the time being,
Just,
Let it fall.
So that I can drown
All of my sorrows,
In heaven's tears.

It was the best thing
that ever happened.
It was amazing, the way
she talked and looked.
Michael Bublé's "The Way You Look Tonight" was,
In many ways right.
It was overwhelming how
vivid and blurry things were,
How clear she looked and
how blurry whatever it is
she collected near her window,
How soothing the music was but
unclear as to what it was,
It was surreal.

And as the clock strikes to whatever
time it was, I shuddered.
I looked around,
and saw my room.
It was, but another dream.

Years pass by
like how weekends go,
As Sunday bids goodbye,
Monday jeerfully comes along.
People eventually,
They eventually come and go,
Some forever, while others
make it seem like forever.

And for all that is to say,
Nothing has been said,
As time, the red-handed villain
continues to run,
Run free—wreaking spruced ruins in its wake.

How do I let go,
How do I forget?
Deeds that stoop low,
Desires that need be met?

Head, you should have known,
Hand, you should forget,
One day shall it be shown,
Could I have been saved yet?

Lust is but a smoke,
Not one I that could blow,
Sinful is this bloke,
I pray this soon will go.

A rotting pile of flesh,
Heavy downpour on damp soils,
A stone marked with hammer and chisel,
Families sniffling to wet handkerchiefs,
With critters down under,
awaiting to prey.
And a soul is laid to rest,
After the stormy haze that is life.

No, I don't want to die alone.

As silky as your palms feel,
And these feelings I can never shield,
All the castles in clouds that we can build,
Like we always have the time to ****.

I'd love to enjoy you in waves,
The only kind of saltiness I crave,
An arm and a leg would I have gave,
Even when they say I'm in a self-dug grave.

Drown me so in your pool of eyes,
For I know those maelstroms hold no lies,
Staring at them, as I smile and sigh,
How I wish they’d never shed a tear and cry.

Would you believe me,
If I told you,
That I'm in love with a ghost?
She who knocks on
pulsating, red doors,
But absent when I open them?

Yes, I'm deeply in love,
With an ethereal figure
who leaves her front door ajar,
And puts a huge "Welcome!" sign there,
But expects no guests.

Yes, she's a gentle specter,
Whose intangible fingers
****** my cheeks,
But when I reach out
to her, all my fingers grasp is thin air.
And I, left, derided with vanity.

There will be a day when
the storm will recede,
A day where the lucky stars,
They finally notice you
And grin, like a toddler
who receives his first gift.

The day will also come
when the summer wind,
Gently blows away frostbites
of last winter's doing.

And trust me when I say,
The seeds you sown in
that barren field,
They'll bloom,
into the most beautiful flower bed.
And all these happened, because you believed.

Is it worth sketching
An alluring portrait,
That will catch the eye of many,
Except for the person portrayed?

Is it worth making
a steaming cup of tea,
On a cold rainy day
for a guest who is
more eager to stay outside?

And tell me,
Is it worth it if I
were to light a candle,
For a dead man's birthday cake?