When I was five, I ate rice with raw egg.
Sit on the rusty, yellow and blue swing.
Play lego and compete for the king,
Ride and reach home before lunch's eaten.

Seven to twelve were kinda tough,
Series of confusions, choices, and circles.
But you managed to pull through,
Since you're sure what's ahead of you.

Thirteen to sixteen you'll meet her,
And the world becomes really colorful.
But blends aren't always that beautiful,
Might end up red or worse some blue.

Seventeen to twenty you shape up,
Let it all in for the last hurrah.
You'll go out to be different,
From now, things will be uncertain.

Twenty-one and I'm still figuring it out,
But that's okay what I hear people shout,
I am desperate as hell,
I need some new normal.

You gave me a nickname,
And we held hands.
Laughed at jokes that were lame,
Suddenly, we're each other's fan.

Yet those short-lived daydreams,
Fainted and faded.
Is it what it seems?
Has it ended before it started?

I hope that it's all in my head,
I wish there's and 'it' to be there.
Can't fall for something that's already dead,
Universe, prove the world could be fair.

Every night I talk to the pillow,
Like how I used to before,
Its faces changes yet remains hollow,
The essence still holds its core.

Tomorrow I wait again,
Though tells myself that it is in vain.
I am, after all, just a friend,
To you, not a loss nor a gain.

We have never been so connected.
Humanity has never been this accepting.
Indeed, we are moving forward.
But isn't it ironic?
That in this age of openness,
It is considered wiser not to show care.
That caring is something miraculous.
Almost.
We almost did it.
We almost showed passion.
We almost cared.
We almost loved.
We.
Almost.
Made it.
Almost. But never enough.
Yes, now, we value honesty but we always forget that not saying what we really want to say is the opposite of what we uphold.
This is not honesty.
This is far from the truth.
We are lying.
We've been lying to ourselves.
Hypocrites.
Casualties.
We end up faking our deaths,
Eternally uncertain what could've happened if veered away from life's
What if's.

And so, I've been told,
Why keep doing it?
Why keep saying these things?
But the problem is,
They created an idea,
High in a pedestal
You can't even reach.
Live with it.
Defend it.
No worries,
I cloak my anxiety --
With indifference and reserved chatter.

My brain is on overdrive metathinking,
Knowing that these thoughts don’t matter.
Still, let me share how that harmless phrase marked my being,
As you’ve pulled me back from a place of feeling better.

Now I see them again — the imperfections,
How something will always be missing from me.
How cold I will feel in seasons and situations,
Those weird quirks I wish would leave and let me be.

You have stolen hours of my bedtime,
In an age when rest is rare and richer when real.
Freed a dark thought from my mind,
That wanders around striking mountains of sad deals.

I was no longer fighting for anyone,
Yet you managed to remind me that I have lost.
I really thought that the worst me has long been gone,
Yet on the mirror I see myself as clear and as cold as a ghost.

Now his face appears in the darkness again,
As I drift back to the shadows of night.
Those words started another one of my heaviest rains,
One that takes time to see even just a flicker of light.