And the gut feeling creeps back again
a startling visitor
especially at this hour
as the day went past,
the pain only increased.
can a person feel more contrite?
i felt that my soul was cut into 2
one in a room
filled with light
but a dark hole awaits
and then the other filled with the dark
and a lingering little flame awaits.
apprehension's bringing me too far
I guess I should stop.

you sit.
you watch.
you work.
with headphones over your head.
community service.
work.
family??!
dinners only.
not much talk.
meetings
meetings
meetings
your daughters don't listen to you?!!
your wife is funny.
a boring life.

A llama mama who is ever so special
A swimmer glides through the water with so much grace
Artistically inclines, genius by birth; slacker by choice
Music.Lit.Bio.Lovely girl whom I very much admire
Strong girl who makes use of every opportunity
Another swimmer with heart and face so lovely
An elephant - the light o' every lil' chat
Candy- words so wise; heart so warm
Another brave girl; lots in common; in every way beautiful
Eloquent speaker  And A Violinist
Another swimmer with such a laugh!
Our dear walking dictionary; never fails to put a smile on my face
Runner and fighter ALL THE WAY
Vettypoop aka my spirit animal
Smiling dolphin
Laughing cheerful pop ****
Artyfarty girl with so much poise and grace
Artyfarty and a swimmer? Ooh la la
Cute and sweet and everything else with a tinge of the kpop
Disciplinarian and nice
1Der with a twinned soul
A cutie pie with a such a heart
Strange girl this one is but I love the way she talks and writes.
Strange laughter and even stranger words you say
Motherly touches
My lovely leader, with such a beautiful core
Craycray, stay craycray bubu
Smiler and such a high toned shriek
You my bestie; my listening ear
Ordinary Me
Meangirl99 at first sight, lovelygirl99 at the second
KimChi such a hard-worker
Another hard worker with a positive glow
A dancer on a note of sarcasm
Heart of gold; Mind of snow
Naughty naughty

so this is my class of 36
every girl
a wonderful light
and this 36 beautiful souls
make up the beautiful beautiful class
of
203
With varying teachers and varying situations,
we have stood by each other
With much faith I have in all of you
Let's soar to the skies
Pull each other
to soar
and
soar
and soar
to heights never known
never reached.
I know we are going to make
2013
our year
203's year to
amaze people like never before.
Prove every teacher we are the awesomest class on earth.
Trust me.
We will.
Every strength and weakness binded together;
203 is going to
ROCK THE HOUSE TONIGHT! :)

a connotation of infinity
sharpens the temporal splendor of this night

when souls which have forgot frivolity
in lowliness,noting the fatal flight
of worlds whereto this earth’s a hurled dream

down eager avenues of lifelessness

consider for how much themselves shall gleam,
in the poised radiance of perpetualness.
When what’s in velvet beyond doomed thought

is like a woman amorous to be known;
and man,whose here is alway worse than naught,
feels the tremendous yonder for his own—

on such a night the sea through her blind miles

of crumbling silence seriously smiles

E.E. Cummings

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.

To all my dear friends
who may cut, gag
or even self-harm
I want to let you know
that you're more than just
a pile of bones
a layer of skin
and
a body of blood
You
have a soul
A wonderful soul
You might have
heard the saying
Every cloud has a silver lining
And yes,
you are beautiful in
your
own
special way.
To my darling friends,
life may be tough
but it is these tough moments in life
that give you thick skin
The skin of resilience
Good things become good
memories
And the not-so good things
become good
experiences
Words have the power to ****
So use it wisely
Use it wisely on yourself
Use it wisely on others
You never know when those words will
come back
to haunt and to hurt
Look at the bright side of things
You are one special entity
with so many beautiful things about you
Through tough moments,
you develop skin
you develop
your mind
your soul
your body
That little rock
Becomes a diamond
And you become a very very
beautiful person.
If there's something I've learnt,
remember to cry and to laugh
Tears are not a sign of weakness
Tears speaks more eloquently
than ten thousand tongues
of power and strength.
And laughter is the best medicine.
Remember to smile
Be kind to yourself and to others.
Don't run away from your problems,
face them
head on
like a strong warrior
Do something about your life.
Time runs
and many of us walk
To keep pace with time,
and thereafter,  your life
RUN.
Yes, run like the wind.
Do something you love.
Do it with passion.
Work hard.
Enjoy life.
Well, saying all these,
I look at myself again.
You know what,
I've decided to do all that.
And this poem is the start
A mark of the day
I've started to run
I've started to see
A bit more meaning
In everything I do
And everything I will do.
Most importantly, I
can't wait to
see what my future holds,
cuz' everyday is a beautiful day
and tomorrow is going to be
an
even
MORE
BEAUTIFUL
DAY.

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

:)

I wrote
I wrote
poems of disgust
poems of love
poems of criticism
Has it ever occurred to me
that my words were more than words
that my thoughts were more than thoughts
I see,
a poem works better when you're really confused
writing it.
And this probably why
I'm trying to write the confusion out
Words are being told and written
Tomorrow
words written on a piece of paper
may perhaps, mould my destiny
And I'm more confused than ever
the day before
On whether this is the start
or this is the end
Why the sonnet?
the villanelle?
the ballad?
why, oh why
Some reason why
I saw poets drafting poems
5 drafts before a poem
and I don't why
Simply because am I not writing a poem?
that many people put pens onto their heads
and scratch their chins
Is it not a poem enough that I'm writing this?
Or filled with secrets should it be?
A need for a title?
A space for a little flight off to another world?
Where Time starts with a capital T?
And perhaps, Death too?
Is it not a poem enough that I'm writing this?
Repetition after repetition
Theme
Structure
why the need
if you dare to speak out through your words on paper?

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.

Yes, everything stabbed me in the heart,
gut
core
Everywhere.
It's so ****** painful
I'm not nattering away
No
I will not and
am not
a nuisance who talks tosh.
You killed me.
It killed me.
A bunch of scrawled numbers killed me.
Everything
every ****** thing
is killing me.
Did I not try?
Did I not place my full brain and heart into it?
And why am I getting ready to get my brain chopped off under the falling axe?
Why, oh why
the sullen faces
blood-sworn glares
the rising temperatures in my body
the cold tears
that pierce the very layer of my cheek
What did I do to deserve **** like this?
Came Monday.
Monday blues
with the very lovely scores indeed ?!!
that kicked me out of the list.
Came Tuesday.
Far worse sight.
More numbers.
Numbers determining my barren life
And so will tomorrow come
with much angst
And so do I now cry or die?

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

have you ever sat down by the windowsill
and wondered why
the birds could fly so high
when you couldn't?
the insects could make small noises
when you couldn't?

Black and White
Black and White
Black and White
Those seem to be dull colors
Colours suggests something
The color that proliferates
this
entire
website
says something to me
this place
is a mask
and this is not
what
it seems like
A place full of poetry
Poetry can have dark meanings too
This place seems dark.

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

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

the body, a cage
myriad of feelings
craving to be let out

Hush, little child, stay right in there
You don't deserve to be let out

the body,
holding for the litany of plain actions
every single day

the body,
God is in it,
heaven?
hell?
what is this

the body,
a circus act
standing on a thin rope
ready to tilt and fall

a lifeless body
with a lifeless heart
sits there
awaiting the cold,cruel stab
to the heart

drops the pen
takes the pen
pattern is forming
noooooo

I want a world
full of rich people
who fulfills their every needs
not
succumbing to
pregnant egos
consternating sadism
******
terror
inferior complex
I want a world full of happy people
With great big smiles
That comes from deep within
And off their faces
People who
genuinely care
genuinely loves
If we had a world like that,
I would never be in a
tangled spider web
where every direction I look
I see terror's menacing eyes
And opportunities' menacing glances
Into the
scary
impending future

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.

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.

When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold
When your dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood's run stale

I want to hide the truth
I want to shelter you
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide
No matter what we breed
We still are made of greed
This is my kingdom come
This is my kingdom come

When you feel my heat
Look into my eyes
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide

Don't get too close
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide


By Imagine Dragons



It's true
The darkest of thoughts
will be the ones
always inside us.  
{ Myrtille}

Doomsday is coming soon
(DOOMSDAY IS COMING SOON)
Who am I kidding?
Piles of papers
With the onerous reds
Who am i kidding
Who am i kidding
Ready to fail every single exam
Here i come
Doomsday 2013

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?

Little pieces of paper
To threaten the existence
of Little girls

Why know English?
To comprehend a language
That many of us already speak ?

Why learn Math?
In ten years' time,
I don't see myself
doing set theory
or applying circle properties to my occupation
Its' called common sense
And this common sense will lead me to believe
and to perceive whatever I have to do
In ten years' time
At this juncture, I must ask
Is common sense being taught?

Why learn Science?
Yes understanding the world before us
Humanities?
Science and Humanities
Common foes
Threatens each others' existence
One looks at human conditions
The other make theories to "disprove" that human condition
Love is blind, says one.
Love is Everything,
"This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet"
The great poet has uttered.

Pieces of paper
With marks scrawled in red
Threatens my very existence
Live your life to the fullest.
Becomes a misleading statement.

And then again,
exams seem like a milestone
And many of us frogs
Which leap from one to another
Drown in the middle
Hop up to another
A never-ending series of jumps
All the way till I'm 22.

Little pieces of paper
To threaten the existence
of Little girls

A cage
Trapped within
Is a few thousands
dreams

Slashed on my skin
A few pieces
of the cane
Red sweltering marks
pain
reddening
the red tide rushes out


Let go
Let go

Hundreds of thoughts
Gone
Simply
Gone.
Into the dark night sky,
dreams gone.
words gone.
The body
lies down on the body.
Rush of thoughts
Final emotions
before every
vessel
every beating *****
that gives me the life to live
comes to a
stop and takes
a break.

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

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.

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

2 deaths in
3 days
I don't know what to say
or even what to feel anymore.
A close friend, first
then
a friend's father
Gone from earth
to the golden gates of heaven
A close friend;
she was
A beautiful soul
A listening ear
That was all she had.
So many moments filled
with laughter
So many emotions
God bless her soul

A friend's father
Oh pain engulfed him
The last of his days
were not the easiest
Pain, blood, torture
Never a day
Had he not brought his daughter to school
Supported her through thick and thin
God bless his soul

Both into the golden gates of heaven

Swords are drawn in soundless night
Above the walls of gold
The winged angels of death descends
A thousand from above
Now Heaven is in its last throe of death

Winged angels of death
Embraced them both
Into its cozy wings
God bless their souls.

The little gold
Shines beautifully
Under the yellow light
Shimmering faces
With a cheeky smile

Come four years
A little older
A  little dirtier
But that same cheeky smile
The same little gold

Come another 8 years
The same little gold
Inside
Layers and layers
of dark, black
dirt piling up
No more cheeky smiles
Only masks, masks and more masks

Come another 16 years
The same little gold
More and more
More and more
More and more
Layers piling up
The little gold
No more to be seen
Black, coarsened gold
Masks, masks and
more masks
A heart of gold
But not
a mind of gold

Come another 32 years
The little black gold
ceases to exist.
Under the thousands
and thousands
and thousands
of other layers
But a new layer of gold
forms.
Twas not the gold
formed first
Formed last
Old is gold.

Her eyes spell green.
She is a monster.
Behind my back
she breathes our her green fire
onto people so fragile
Consumes them with so much
Satisfaction
Sadism to a whole new level
Her strength grows
The weaker  
I strive to fight
Who are you?
Green monster

But it's not just her
Today I realised
It's all around me
I pull out my shield
To protect myself among the
Many green monsters
But one against many
Is a black piece against a hoard of white
Every white piece
Comes forward
Attacks
The little black piece
becomes weaker
and weaker
It's start to feel the monster's breath
Near its eyes
Down to the throat
Sooner or later
At its heart

So when this green monster
Finally
Breathes
The green fire within her
Along with many other monsters
I see myself
Drowning
In a green sea
where not even a single person
would care to take a look back at.

at the pit of my stomach
deep down
those words
filled with some sort
of betrayal
speculation
stabbed right
there
and I felt
really
really
really bad
and guilty
for everything
I probably shouldn't have done.
Yet the past cannot be erased
Neither can I burn all the memories away
Desperate
to crush them into *****
and throw them right into the fire
burn
burn
burn
let it burn
but my memories are no paper *****.
and they come back
every
now and then
from the back
to the front
a subtle reminder
**you probably shouldn't have done that.

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.

I come here
To spill my emotions
Out of an overflowing cup
Sometimes
It's just too much
It's like a large sack of rice
On my head
When I sleep
I feel the burden
I try to spill the little
grains of rice
Trying trying trying
It's an imaginary sack of rice
I walk
I think
I spill
I walk
I think
I spill
Over and over again
I come here
And spill
You see my
thoughts
become words
full of meaning
But if you see what I see
Everyday in a
Panel of glass
I don't seem to be
that person
I am tired of
trying
pretending to be nice
to people who don't deserve it
I try
I really do
To juggle things in life
But people like you
Like you, yes you
Your words pull me down

And that sack of rice just
gets
bigger
and bigger
heavier
and heavier
And  one day I
will collapse
That sack of rice blinding my thoughts
That sack of rice
On my head
On my body
Hands, shoulders, legs
And you might never see me again
Under that sack of rice

So I come here
Hello Poetry
To spill those grains of rice
before something happens
and
I
collapse.

I really
don't know
what to feel anymore.
Frustration, Anger, Sadness
Happiness, Shock and Surprise
That's what these past few days have been.
And things are just building and building up.
And I honestly don't know what to feel anymore.

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

Have you ever wondered
that your dreams might
one day
one faithful day
come true

I've wished and dreamt of
so many
and so much more

I love the feeling
of dreaming
You enter a world of unreal
and do the impossible
This is where
this is where
you reach dreams that you can't
seem to even see

I lay down every night
In my bed
Darkness all around me
I weave dreams in the darkness around me
A light
I see something beautiful and
burning bright

I want to reach for it
But I can't
I weave those dreams
I close my eyes
I want to do this
I want to do that
But my dreams are faraway
I want to reach for it
But I can't

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

To both of you
Your paranoia has taken
a totally new level.
By checking my phone,
or my email accounts
or my Facebook account
is not going to be doing you
* any form of good. *

My friends and I
called that conversation
a heart-to-heart
the kinds I've never had with
both of you.
There are overwhelming feelings
that need to be poured out
And with that someone you know you could trust
That's pretty much
good for my mind.

Academics come second or third
When you are having a mid-life crisis
I'm sorry sir
but
get
YOUR
priorities right.

The one hour that I would have
to spend with you on Sundays
is the most unproductive,
stupidest things
I've ever done in my entire life.
It's not helping me.
And if you haven't gotten the signs already,
you should just stop,
and not care too much about anything.
Yes, it may be your next-of-kin's future
That you're worrying about
And I'm worrying about the exact same thing
But there are some things i don't show or tell you
So please, keep quiet.
If you're going to be strict with me,
let me tell you one thing.
It's not going to go the way you want it to be.

Slashes of the cane may never leave their mark.

Well, both of you might as well keep quiet.
I probably wouldn't go to Harvard
And that's well none of my concerns
Because I know
Few years from now, I
will
try my best to get into a good uni.
But till then,
I beg of both of  you
Just keep quiet.
Both your voices
Neither soothing nor reprimanding
Is what I don't what to hear.
So if you could just care on some important things
Maybe my health or my study?
I think I would study even more
And do better
Just help me clear my doubts once in a while
I don't need both of you.
All the time.
You might say,
Oh you are so ungrateful
But let me tell you,
deep inside
I still care, and I still worry about you.
So I'm not that ungrateful
Just care when it looks like if you have to
Until then, don't talk
keep quiet
Cuz' I only feel worse and worse
when you do.

Seriously sometimes my friends
would be able to empathize more
And they understand
And one more things,
if companies search through so much data,
they would be very very very
disappointed to know how many people
do it every single day.

In the inside,
I'm almost at breaking point.
There's so many things I don't tell you.
Problems only get worse
Your advice doesn't make much of a difference.

So just keep quiet.

A little rain
A little sunshine
Out comes a little caterpillar
From a little cocoon
Grows
Sheds
Few Layers of Skin
Butterfly, a lovely one
Flies all over the place
Meets another beautiful butterfly
Mates
Babies
Egg
A little rain
A little sunshine
Out comes a little caterpillar
A lovely gift for their love.

A little glass balancing on a string
Tips to the other side
When a little bit of water gets poured in
To balance, pour the same water out
Things get thrown into the little glass
Sways sways sways
Colouring added in
Tips to the other side
Random pieces of **** added in
Tips to another side
More and more things get poured in,
And the little glass tips
Crashes to the ground
Lays on the floor in
smithereens
Life is fragile
Take care of it
and balance your
life.

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

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.

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.

mother problems
chicken pox
asked my aunt
she replied
shower my mother with love and care
after many tries
chicken pox
appointment to the end
of chicken pox
sent my mother a message that she wasn’t okay
drowsy drowsy
medicines
drowsy
shouts and screams
a clueless father
a I-dont-give-two-*******-***** sister
exams over
results out
failed my favourite subject
HOW DID I FAIL LITERATURE
chicken pox doctor
misdiagnosis
then gave me wrong number of weeks to rest
choreography for bollywood
tamil folk
parents were showering ill concealed parental
concern
went to support
ran ran ran
confused and nervous
of the entire world hating me
i ran. ran. i ******* ran
wash the dishes
cooked **** - got scolded for not cooking
extremely ***-y father
why the ******* hell did that happen
cooked
messed up dishes
ate dinner outside
whole family sick
syf prac horrendous
out of breath
trying to run
dinner outside everyday
people who didnt listen
people who didnt care about the dance
time limit
one week before kanal
havent finished choreography
CHICKEN ****** POX
came back to school
parents being ***
whole family down with chicken pox
mother working her *** off
she doesnt want any help
dancing dancing dancing  
mother’s talk about me trying to get away from dance
raffles diploma
performance
november performance
i couldnt dance
kicked out ruthlessly
kanal
five minutes before
a message no more such activities next year
marche dinner
screamed and screamed
out of breath
******* hole in my throat
ran ran ran ran ran
away from idiosyncrasies
raffles diploma
career choices
out of money
where did all the money go
where did all the money go
goals
fashion designer
parents : banker, scientist
work backwards from the goal
dance i want to dance
outings
2 days before
go on to khan academy
father only listens to himself
crushed bones
crushed ribcages
i cant breathe
still running

To be frank,
metaphors scare me.
They do.
I don't know how
but many poems
have metaphors so
awfully entwined in them.
It makes the comparison
a so detailed list.

From the bone for the poem
the metaphor starts
out to the skin
it never ends
it penetrates the human soul
leaves a scar,
a mark -
a clue to the human condition.

And so
still to be frank
metaphors scare me.

An afternoon breeze
expels cold air, along with
the fallen brown leaves.

Cherry blossoms bloom,
softly falling from the tree,
explode into night.


The warmth on my skin.
Fire falls beneath the trees.
I see the sun set.

Summer here again.
Music plays sweetly, drifting.
And life is renewed.

A winter blanket
covers the Earth in repose
but only a dream

An ocean voyage.
As waves break over the bow,
the sea welcomes me.

- Anonymous

My lovely girl
Velohomme
Behind that mask of yours
are you really that person who
writes to cut
" chop chop chop"
are you really that girl who sheds tears at night?
and sleep open-eyed

When I see you
I sense a spark of inspiration in me
to be a better person
But behind that mask of yours...

I don't know anything anymore velohomme
You were someone I 've always wanted to be
The girl full of smiles
Odd jokes
And
Laughter
but in your poems that
you
authored
You don't seem
to be that girl I've known all along
You seem to be a girl
Who sheds her tears in the dark
Let the blood pour out of her open wounds
Worry about the problems that I've never
Imagined that you had

You seem
To
Be
Confused
With your own emotions

You don't seem to know why you are happy
or why you are
sad
You sit in that corner of the classroom
Sleep with a peace that I've never known or seen it
In anyone else
Yet in your poetry
It is filled with
Dark meaning
Blood
Fear
And sheer terror

My lovely girl
Velohomme
Behind that mask of yours
are you really that person?