"but i know
we need a little heart hope"*

there's not much left to say.
just the same things; same
problems, same me.

don't go, please.
i've seen so many people
walk out that i'm not sure who
stays anymore.

i'm so tired that i can't
find it in me to fight anymore.

******* hell,
i've had one too many bottles of jack
but it can't take away the pain anymore;
it can't take you away anymore.

i miss you.

seventeen,
found a home in a tiny wine cellar
off the coast of malibu
drank and drank till i could drink no more,
yet it couldn't fill the hollow inside.

eighteen,
took a one-way ticket out of malibu;
flew through the clouds till i
reached this little hole in denver;
made a home, lost a house.

nineteen,
took a one-way ticket out of you
blessed my long dark hair,
smelt the apple blossoms in your chest
kissed you goodbye and never came back.

twenty, twenty,*
what's there left for me to do?
found a home in a little wine cellar
in a big city
killed myself with alcohol

but forgot about the me i left behind.

i've lost you,
haven't i?

it's just hit me,
and suddenly i'm numb with the
realization that things will never
be the same.

or maybe it's you who's lost me.
because how could i lose something;
someone i never had?

i couldn't.

i know
i drink
too ******* ******* much.

it's not good for me,
i know, but what in this
life is? wouldn't it be better
to lose myself,
in order to find myself?

or would you rather me be
sober, alone,
fighting in the four walls of my
head that seem to be closing in on me
even as i struggle to breathe?

and then you ask me,
why my clothes smell of smoke.
i remind you,
on a night not too long ago,
you held me in your arms,
regardless of smoke, or not.

or perhaps the stench wasn't so strong then.

because you see,
when you lose half of you,
the things you turn to
to save yourself
might very well **** you.

does it really matter, actually?
that i'm bitter?

does it really matter,
how i feel? what i
think? i think not.

i'm just a speck of dust
on your horizon.
do i exist?
not really.
maybe.
perhaps.

my luck seems
to have run out.

it's been chasing me for
too long now.

the night glows.
tonight i'm sitting outside,
in some dark alley-
i don't exactly know where.

i hope someone doesn't think
i am something else.

but i needed the quiet.
i've got a gun,
to protect myself,
but i don't think i'll use it.

i'm too tired.
whatever happens, will happen.

it's been two hours,
nothing has approached me.
i think i'm safe.

but with my sort of luck,
you'll never know.

safe from the outside, maybe.
but safe from the inside?
never.

i'm screaming.
can you hear me?
i'm screaming.
but i'm screaming calmly.

there's a ringing in my head,
maybe from last week's hangover.
my cheeks seem to be perpetually tear-
stained with ink.

i like to look in the mirror.
my nose seems flatter than usual today;
i guess pinocchio was just a fairytale.

built a home in a basement;
never thought that i'd need the light

days fall away, one after
another, and i smoke five cigarettes
before the pack burns out.

it can outrun me, you know.

it isn't true ; don't
believe them.

drinking and smoking and black
eyeliner to hide eyes puffy
from crying isn't
attractive.

it's messy, it's wild, it's
broken, in a
haphazard sort of
way.

i present you with a different
face each day;
green eyes flecked with gold.

those remain the same.

but beyond that, oh
beyond that
there's the pain.

and oh god,
the pain, it
could **** you.

i suggest you leave.
i am a hazard to myself.

what am i chasing,
really?

behind the smoke and the empty bottles,
behind the tears and the dried-up coughs
behind the life i know is leading me to ruin.

is it you?

or is it what you stand for,
the laughter on windy days,
the split-second hugs and the
sadness in my eyes you say you
feel sorry for.

and then there's the broken glass.
from last week on my bedroom floor.
after i threw an empty jack daniels bottle
at the wall in frustration.
and maybe a little pain.

metaphorical? perhaps.
tangible? perhaps.

but each time i reach out to
it all that answers me is
a bottle of pearls.

but am i really drunk? or
have i just been drinking
water from my alcohol bottles,
pretending to feel the burn as it slides
down my throat?

or have my cigarettes been not
lighted all this while, just me *******
away at tasteless white sticks of tobacco,
staring at my ceiling and wishing i was dead?

i'm so predictable, it's starting
to hurt,

because instead of dreams, i'm counting nightmares.

instead of lovers, i'm counting bones.

instead of life, i'm living hell.

you give me fifteen
minutes a day to be myself.
and so for fifteen minutes a day i
paint myself into being,

weaving a tapestry of emotions with
just black and white.
i leave my body and strip
myself down to my bones.

my soul sings; i lose being lost
something alcohol can never do
and my fingers fly over black and white.

but at the end of that fifteen
minutes my shirt is soaked with sweat;
my wrists ache and my muscles shiver with
what can be called anticipation but what

i've come to know as dread. and
then i wrap myself up in my pretences
again, shaking with the
effort of being someone i am not.

on some days i don't have that fifteen.
some days are harder to bear than others.

it's getting harder to breathe.
i'm lost in a tidal wave of silence,
as oppressive as your words
can be some days

when they cut deep into my soul.
i'm out on the edge and i'm screaming my own
name as though it could teach
me something new about my horror at

seeing my tears in the mirror.
but all that comes back is my echo;
the darkness of a wasted youth;
too many bottles of alcohol and too

many late nights where i sleep at daybreak.
it's nonsensical, everything and nothing, all
at once.

and then i ask myself,
"am i alive? what is the
essence of my being?"

and no one replies.

hey, how're you doing?
it's been two months since i saw you
and i'd tell you i miss you but
i can't find the words.

hey, how's it going?*
it's been two weeks since we spoke
and i'd tell you i love you but
the words, they die in my throat.

all i know is this:
i love you every minute of every day,
but one day you decided it was enough for you,
and you walked out with neither a goodbye
nor a look back,

and suddenly, all the love songs were about you.

no, you fool.
pain isn't just crying yourself to sleep at
3am like how they pretend it is on tv.
it's retreating to your piano
in the corner of the hall
and playing until your shirt is soaked with sweat
and the anguish bleeds out of your
fingers and onto the white and black keys.
it's crying and seeing your tears fall onto the
glossy wooden finish of your guitar,
it's staring absently at the blood streaming
from your fingers and staining the guitar a
deep shade of red.

no, you fool.
you don't understand.
pain is going to the things you love
and using them to express yourself
and you feel your soul painting itself
into the words you could never speak.

what is this feeling?
a sudden ache in my chest,
a sudden feeling of displacement, of loss
i close my eyes,
try to imagine the feeling away,
but it persists,
a hollowness that will never subside.

what is this feeling?
my eyebrows knit together,
the corners of my mouth turn down.
i stare blankly into the distance,
my only thoughts dark and lonely,
my only words sparse and muted.

what is this loneliness?
this trembling of my lips
this ache in my heart
this crying of my soul.

"because, you know, before you help others, you have to help yourself.
before you fix others, you have to fix yourself.
before you love others, baby girl, you have to love yourself."*

someday, things will be perfect
someday, the pain will be gone
maybe it's wrong to hold on too tight because
it will all be gone anyway.

someday, we'll find a home in the sky
someday, the tears will be worth it
one day, things will be better.

look yourself in the mirror, now
and tell yourself it will be okay.
believe it, hope it, pray it,
don't let go.

dear dan
you gave up.
i don't know if words can bring you back.
probably not.
i don't even know if you're really gone.
i miss you.
i'm sorry i couldn't stop you
i'm sorry i couldn't save you
i'm sorry i couldn't show you
how much you mean to us.

i can't bring you back.
it's like you stood on the edge and
my rope just wasn't long enough.

i'm so so sorry.
and i won't forget you.

dear dan,
i do not know everything in life,
neither do i claim to.
i do not have the answer to everything,
neither do i pretend to.
but life has taught me a lot of things.
it taught me that it's always going to be hard,
it's always going to be an uphill battle,
life is never going to be on your side.
i don't know a lot of things,
but i do know this.
for every moment that i am living,
breathing,
being,
i am grateful.
i am grateful that i was given a life,
no matter how difficult it may be.
there are people
in this world
who wish for half the things we have.
now i'm not saying it's easy,
because let's face it, it's never going to be.
what i am saying,
is that you have the power to change your life.
rain or shine, it's all in your hands.

dear dan,
it's never going to be easy;
it's always going to be hard.
but please,
please,
for heaven's sake
this is my plea:
please don't give up on me now.

today i listened to a song
that you once called "our song"
and it reminded me of you
and all that you stand for

alone at home,
i lay on the cold tiled living room floor
shut my eyes
and listened.

i will admit that i cried a few tears for you;
i looked at a picture of us from months ago
and sighed because it seemed like just yesterday to me.

i remembered you
i remembered us
it hurt for a while,
but i admitted to myself that i did miss you
and then i reached out
and let you go.

this feeling will fade in time, i know
and i told myself to be strong.

i think it worked.

the song ended,
i took my earphones from my ears,
and i stood up.

i must have left the part of me that loves you
on the ground behind me,
because i think i'm finally over you.

i hope one day
someone stitches you back together
i hope one day
you see the beauty of life
i hope one day
you understand how precious you are

you're my best friend
and i know you will see this
and i want you to promise me
that no matter what happens you will keep hanging on
because i love you
for all that you are
and i don't mean the love of a lover
but rather
phileo love
one that is warm and tender and platonic
one that makes me cry when i see you hurt
one that makes me willing to stay up
till 4am to persuade you not to **** yourself

because you mean a lot to me
and i hope one day
you learn to mean a lot to yourself too.
i know what you feel.
believe me, i, more than anyone else, would know.
how often have i felt the same?
how often have i seen my own scars?
how often have i wanted to put an end to my own life?
i know you. better than i know myself.

to take your life is a brave thing to do.
but is it not braver to stay and fight?
i want to stay.
i want to fight my demons off one by one.
and you, my fellow wanderer,
won't you fight with me?
won't you live for living's sake?

what are birthdays?*
"a day to celebrate your being alive"
"a day to celebrate your birth"

but i am tired of living.
tomorrow is my birthday but
i don't feel like there's anything to celebrate.

i saw fireworks yesterday
and they reminded me of you
of how once you sent me a picture of you
sitting on the ground watching a sky
lit up in red and white and blue
and how you wished i was there with you.

and even though i'm the one
who told you we're not meant to be
there's a part of me that still misses you.

and even though i'm the one
who said "that's enough"
there's a part of me that still wants you.

today i rode my penny down the sidewalk
and it reminded me of you
how you once sent me a video of you
skating down a hallway at 11p.m.
and you wished i was there with you.

and even though i'm the one
who told you we're not meant to be
there's a part of me that still misses you.

and even though i'm the one
who said "that's enough"
there's a part of me that still wants you.

and i know
time will erase me from your mind but

even though we're not meant to be
even though that's enough
there's a part of me that still misses you
and there's a part of me that still wants you

but that part is growing smaller every day
and we're not meant to be
and that's enough now.

sit in class
watch the clock tick
as the moments pass me by
all i want to do is disappear
into a void where i no longer have to feel

sit at home
watch the closed door
as the shouts echo just outside
all i want to do is disappear
into a void where i no longer have to feel

sit in hell
watch the flames burn
as my sanity hangs on a thin thread
all i want to do is disappear
into a void where i no longer have to feel

sit in life
watch everything go wrong
as my fingers reach out for the blade
all i want to do is disappear
into a void where i no longer have to feel

all i want to do is disappear
is that too much to ask?

when i play your song
my skin breaks
and my blood runs out

metal strings,
with rust-colored stains
the guitar that is my heart

and for every quavering note,
for every hollow echo
for every tear that mixes with my blood

i am alive.

when they're gone
look for me.
when you've got nothing left to hold on to
lean on me.
when there's nothing left in your heart
but sorrow and ache and loneliness
find me.
when you realize what pain is
talk to me.

but until then
when your life is perfect
and you cannot fathom why i feel
the way i do
and why i lie
the way i do
and why i cry
the way i do

i will love you from a distance

because it is hard to understand something
you yourself do not know.

i think
at the end of the day
when the shadows are lengthening
and a cold wind is blowing
it all comes down to this:

i am completely alone.

there's no sound except my echo,
not a soul besides my shadow.

i am alone.

and as trying as it may be
it also tells me that i am strong.

i am a wanderer,
i walk life's roads alone,
i depend on no one but myself,
what good can empty promises do for me,
anyway?

i am a wanderer,
i walk life's roads alone.
and neither man nor spirit
can ever again hit me so hard
that i fall to my knees.

i am a wanderer,
i walk life's roads alone,
and i am proud of how far i've come
and how much i've learnt
in the bitter years gone by.

i am a wanderer,
i walk life's roads alone
and i will stand strong
against the beating of the wind and the rain.

i don't understand
how you can put me back together
and tear me apart again
in just one day

i don't know why
you give me hope
you make me smile
if you're just going to take it all away

you make me laugh
and you make me cry

and i wonder if you're worth it at all sometimes.

my life consists
of running through dark alleys
away from shadows that pursue me.

i am the reckless
i am the broken
i am the wild sobs at daybreak
i am the silence at twilight.

i am a washed-up, beat-up soul
chasing visions of a wasted youth
down dark alleys;
fleeing my demons.

i'm out on the highest peak
screaming your name
like the fool that i am

but all that's here is my shadow,
my echo

can you hear me?

just like the walking cliche that i am
i place my hand on the glass
wishing you were on the other side
to put your hand against where mine is

but life isn't like that.
life fogs up the glass,
maybe even breaks it
and cuts you with the shards
on bad days.

i sit down,
lean back against the wall,
blow a stream of smoke out of my mouth,
and declare,
"**** life, **** people, i'm going to do this on my own".

then you walk by

and once again i find myself lost
in a sea of emotions
struggling to find the nearest life buoy
fighting against the waves
that threaten to consume me.

because the truth is,
no matter how many cigarettes i smoke
no matter how many floors i sit on
no matter how many walls i lean against
the only lifeline i need

is you.

if one day
i fall
don't catch me
if one day
i run
don't chase me
if one day
i drown
don't save me.

i made a choice.

my life
is mine to live
my life
is mine to end.

anorexia
is not just a disease
it is a monster
eating away at your soul
until you become nothing but skin and bones.

depression
is not just a mood swing
it is a demon
******* away your happiness
until you become nothing but a shell of who you used to be.

these are serious problems.
do not be too naive
or monsters and demons
will steal the people you love.

you tell me about her and
how she broke your heart and
how you're so empty now that she's gone.

all i do is say how sorry i am
that life messes up the best of us
and tell you to keep hanging on.

but what else can i say
when all i want to do is run to you
and tell you how much i love you?

what else can i say
when inside i bleed for you
and what we can never have?

what else can i say
when you tell me you can't picture
life with anyone else?

what else can i say
but tell you i'm so sorry
and mean it with all my heart.

what else can i say?

she's tearing you apart and
you're tearing me apart and
i know i'm tearing him apart too.

sometimes i sit and wonder why
love is so
cruelly blind.

There’s something funny
about a loved one’s death
it’s like climbing up a flight of stairs
and thinking there’s one more stair than there is
so you put your foot down
and it passes through the air and hits the ground
it’s a shock,
your heart beats really fast
and then nothing.
Absolutely nothing.

I remember your face
your smile
your laugh
I remember the times
When, as a kid,
I giggled in glee
and flew paper aeroplanes around
on your lap
I remember your hand
how it fit into mine
like it was meant to be
how you told me
everything’s gonna be alright

and now I remember
the huge gaping hole in my chest
where my heart used to be.

I remember staring at your face
And thinking,
“this isn’t you”
I remember how they dressed you up
and laid you there
and I struggled with the realization
that someone, something in my life
would never come back

it was like I watched you
walk into the ocean
deeper and deeper
until the waters covered your head
I was screaming, crying
Begging you to come back
For me
But you didn’t hear a word I said

Yeye, Mama, YiDioh,

I sing what I cannot speak
I write what I cannot say
My heart beats for you
I will never give up

Everything you taught me
How to be brave
How to be strong,
When I’m afraid
How to press on
How to hold on
How to keep the light in my eyes alive

I love you,
You had a great ride,
And I will never forget you.

i've never met you before,
never seen your face,
except in those pictures and videos they show on television.
never heard your laugh, never seen you smile in person.

yet somehow i feel that i know you.

and it breaks my heart
to think that you will never
be thirteen,
never go to a new school,
never meet new friends,
never be in a new environment with new people.

you will never feel the joy of becoming a teenager,
never get your PSLE results,
never again pull your favorite shirt out of the closet to wear,
never laugh and smile with new friends.

you were-are, twelve.
too young.
too soon to go.
you were a spark in the dark
that has been extinguished too early;
the night is still young.

and i will miss you,
because you represented childish joy to me,
something the world will miss dearly.

go in peace, and may you find happiness wherever you are.