So I told my friend
something I wouldn't have done
In a thousand years
I told
A secret
I gave away my
power
of anonymity
So now I'm known
She knows
who
Myrtille actually is.
But but but
we talked about our poems
we talked about many different things
about poems
about hello poetry
about everything
but we failed to
ask each other
why we came to this place
in the first place
what did we do
since we found out
that secret
My heart aches to know
But my mind fails to
let my thoughts become words
words
words words
out of my mouth
Maybe she feels the same way too
Perhaps there is this fear
A fear so
terrorising
scary
that we fail to acknowledge
the existence of
that powerful secret
That secret
that draws the border
Between life and death

Exhausted and tired
I am
but
I don't seem to know why
10 hours of sleep
3 hours of sleep
I still feel tired
Sleep
doesn't seem like sleep
anymore.
Oh oh
something is
wrong.

J'aime le français
Il est
difficile
Vocabulaire
Très difficile
Tous le monde
Difficile
J'aime le français
mais
tous le monde est
difficile

doors clashing
voices echoing
off walls
right there
yes,there
I realised something is happening.
but I choose not to open my door
to see another door close,
but I must stay calm
and keep my composure
For I know, if words spoken more,
the more it might hurt.
And so I keep quiet
and let the silence accompany me.

Sometimes,
while writing
a poem
My hand starts to shiver
And I just can't seem to continue.
like today
just now
when I wanted to write a poem
about
the lovely ties I made today
and I don't know why
Usually I don't get stuck
But today it
was
literally
brainfreeze.
And my hand started shivering.
And I deleted the entire poem
Because I realized
that I probably can't write poetry.

The poem didn't sound right.
But most importantly,
it didn't sound like
what I would write.

I can't seem to write poetry.

remember the times
I thought I was black and white as this page
My poems were out to represent
this black and white
and soon enough
this black and white starts to fade
with time everything starts to fade
once it had faded into the black and white
on this page
like this page
now it seems against the page
it fades into
more and more colors
the world's seems to be more than just
black and white
like on this page.

truthfully
to say
society *****.
imperfect individuals harping on the fact
that their kids grow up and mature
to the idea of perfection
and these kids
become the perfect type of imperfect individuals
each generation to sing the same type of
the perfection song.
sing to the tune, say that nobody is perfect
and they try to be perfect.
and when they reach near perfection,
when they are probably miles and miles away from it,
they preach to the song of perfection
amplify the defections of a crowd
and chaos erupts
it all becomes war and love combined
hence
society *****.

Holed up in a bed
With a few blankets
A running nose
Temperature as hot as a fire
Poor throat, my poor throat
Letting lose of the dust at its base
A running nose
A blocked nose
Hidden ears
burning forehead
sick.

above the lights
they regard what I do
with much curiosity
they don't talk
instead they shine so bright
and regard me with much
positivity
but I sit here in the dark
shrouded in the black
negativity clouded in the black
i silently watch
the lights above
regard me with eyes so dark
And I look back at them
And I see,
even in the dark,
a little twinkle in the dark

Ever wondered
if the finger in my
photo
was my third finger
No
it
isn't.
It is
my
fourth finger.
My lucky fourth finger
With my lucky line
It throbs
Oh no

it is apparently in
one's skin
the skin of a thousand generations
the gene structure of an ancestor
that holds the ultimate key
to their benign characteristics and thoughts
they rage, rage at the seemingly regret of
thousands of generations underneath
the pain, the fury, the happiness, the sadness,
all one in many
they pass down and down
and when they reached me,
I wondered.
Is everything still under my delicate skin?
Repent, repent
of a thousand generations more
Repent, repent my
own
skin,
the layer above many
and the layer below many more.

Are we not talking?
All I said
all day and night
is hi and bye?
Why are you so worried?
Why are you only talking to me
when necessity arises?
Why are you so angry with me?
Why, oh why
I don't understand,
yet I cannot put forth my concerns about you
Because all you do, all day and night,
is to sit right there and listen to the news.
Do you not care?
Family doesn't seem family anymore
because
no one
is
talking.

here I am standing
blank
a piece of white fresh parchment
no hint of ink
no hint of a pencil sway
blank
My mind's
blank
Just white
Not even a hue of black
Just plain white
Colourless and dull
has my life been.
Blank.
has my mind been

here I am standing
blank
a piece of white fresh parchment
no hint of ink
no hint of a pencil sway
blank
My mind's
blank
Just white
Not even a hue of black
Just plain white
Colourless and dull
has my life been.
Blank.
has my mind been

by margaret atwood


I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen
I would like to watch you
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head 
and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear 
I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway 
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and you enter
it as easily as breathing in 
I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

afraid of losing
my touch
so as many know
or may know
over the million of miles that separate us
I am
afraid of losing my touch to you.
Maybe not exactly to you
but losing that touch
to something I've never known.
afraid.

here I am standing
blank
a piece of white fresh parchment
no hint of ink
no hint of a pencil sway
blank
My mind's
blank
Just white
Not even a hue of black
Just plain white
Colourless and dull
has my life been.
Blank.
has my mind been

chilled to the core of the bone
with a myriad snowflakes
and beautiful beautiful shaven ice
around me
falling through my tousled hair
all bathing in the sun's glory
Wish I could be there.

Had a way with words
Had a way with these many letters
All scrunched together
Scrambled to the edges that hold them together
I don't know what I'm writing
Don't care enough to know
that I am writing.
Confusion and confusion
beguiles me
as I scrunch and scramble more words.

I step out of my house
Look at the path
In front of me
It's *****
Mud, Insects, Dead Leaves
The path is already a mess
What about bigger things?
Like life?

Only for the man who needs a pillow to sleep
Only for the man who is not willing to take two steps out of that line
Only for the man who sticks to his friends
Only for the man who stays away from enemies
Only for the man whose every incident in life has been happy
Only for the man who knows what he knows
Only for the man who does not give a care for a dying person
Only for the man who chooses his words without much bother
Only for the man who dies ever so willingly
Only for the man who sees himself a great person,
yet who is a great fool.

Where did you go?
Where is your spirit?
Remembered that you told me
that you'll be behind me all the way
That's what you said
The special connection we shared
Where did that go?
Have I changed to a somebody you didn't care about?
My mother , grandmother - all would have been better
if you didn't succumb to the weight of your heart on your shoulders
Why, why
Why do you do this
Was Heaven a far better place than Earth?
If that is so, tell me
how to get there
Or tell me
How to solve everything that comes my way
Life's been going downhill
Since the day you left us
Come back, grandpa
Come back
I miss you
and I love you.

it burns low
within the four corners of the little room.
it burnt an entire house down once.
it burnt in my chest when i danced.
and when I blew out the candle,
my hope dwindled.
when I carried the 2 candles,
lighted with fire
into my room,
one blew off.
hitherto the next candle's flame
burns low,
I wait and watch.

when my fingers run over the
ivory keys
my heart beats
feel the staccato
riding over the little black sharps and flats
pounding pounding
little scared
fear fear
trembles trembles
in what music shall come
to the beating of the heart
the listening of the ear
what is there to come

I shine
A little light
Within the palms of my hand

It just gets darker
and darker
the little light
losing its light
With every futile effort,
a more disastrous outcome

It's getting
darker and darker
A little by little
The light spills out
from within the palms of my hand
trying to catch it

It gets darker.


It's black now.
No more light
within the palms of my hand.

let my broken hair cascade across my face,
letting the wind take my place
I let the little hair strands straddle the soft contours of my face
watch them all
dance to the rhythm of the wind
touch the warm air
I sit here,
watching the wind take its place.

sometimes,
when you are so sad,
so happy
you can't feel
it's a numbing sensation
passivity and neutral
and all
it's debilitating
you can't feel.
you can't know
what you need to know
and what you need to
feel.

people around me
are
over-achievers
all cut from the same cloth
OVER ACHIEVERS
people leading groups of people
getting As
involved in a million different things
and I sit here
with just one thing
and that one thing isn't even complete.

drops the pen
takes the pen
pattern is forming
noooooo

Sacred place, it is
I lay on the ground
Soaking in the moisture and
the very green smell
I look to the white canopy above
and smile
sheepishly
my heart being caressed by the lovely words
uttered by thy soul
It's a lovely place
Close the door, opening my castle on the clouds
Closed from all bad days and bad nights
Closed from the monstrous glares and tiring faces
The endless criticisms
I can never run away to such beautiful places
Because monsters from my either world barge in
Bang the door
And scream
And pull
And drag me out.
O' ain't I the tired soul?

*Why can't you see?

on the day I was born
I wasn't told
I would have just not cried for
the number of things
to come my way
on the day I was born
I was welcomed with happy tears
why the sad tears now
on the day I was born
born the lovely
curious little thing
peeked out of the dark
into the piercing light
only to take a step back now and to cry
on the day I was born
no regrets,
but now 15 years have passed.
on the day I was born,
had I known how these 15 years would turn out,
I would not have cried to
signal the live beating heart.
on the day I was born,
I might as well have died.

Pain
Pain
Engulfing everything in my bones
blood
I cannot
I cannot
I cannot
take
this anymore

Every ounce of my energy
draining
and draining
Life being ****** out
****** out
I feel like a body with
no life.
Zombie

I am trying to smile
Smile from core of heart
But what's a smile
if you
don't want
don't feel
don't think
of that smile?

around revolving world
smack in the middle
sits a me
who longs to be out there
revolving around and with that world

:)

Imagine me
to be the
ground.
No matter how much you seem to dig,
you will only get past that one layer
and so you say mightily,
" Aha this is you"
Well,
let me tell you
Another thousand layers to dig through.

take a step back
look at me
if you would do that
let a million thoughts
rush through
your
mind
look at me
destructive
tears
blood
melancholy
help
but you turned away
walked away into
a darkness that you will never come
out of
to find
me
see
me
ever
ever
ever
again

So I stared at the mirror
talked to that little girl,
*"Oh where did you go?"

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost
that their loss is no disaster.

- Elizabeth Bishop-

It's rising within me
Sooner or later
I will explode

Sometimes
I think I'll
never get anywhere in
life.