They called him
A problem child.
"Failure."
"Disappointment."
"Good for nothing."

And so these words
Stuck with him
Formed his identity
Shaped his character.

Until one day
He couldn't take it anymore
So he jumped off a building
And all his problems
Seemed to vanish.

Oh, ocean
Take me away
Envelope me in your waves
Wash me away from the shore.

Freeze me
Numb my pain
Let me drown
In your vastness.

Let me sink
To the bottom of the ocean.

I want someone
Who can read my eyes
And communicate with them
So that we can share jokes
From across the room
Or alert each other
During emergencies.

I want someone
Who can differentiate my smiles.
Real ones, fake ones
So that even when everyone else
Is fooled,
You won't be.

I need someone
Who can understand
That I'm a complicated,
Contradictory person.
That I may blow hot and cold
But in the end
I'll still love you.

She would
Build walls around herself,
A thousand feet tall.
"Don't trust,
Don't let anyone near,"
She told herself.

But sometimes
She would soften up.
Tear down the walls
And let others in.  

Only to be left,
To be betrayed.
So she would construct them again,
But destroy it soon after.

It was a cycle,
Building walls and then tearing them down,
Over and over again.

Fearing
Judgement
Criticism
Mockery,

She zipped her mouth,
Sewn it shut,
And never did she
Utter a word again.

You

Whose thoughts
I yearned to know back then.

Whose prolonged gaze
Would make me blush, in those days.

You

Whom I never got to say goodbye to.

You

Whose path
I hope to cross again, one day.

I may have moved on,
But I'll never forget you.

The most mysterious letter
Out of the 26 in the alphabet.

Students rack their brains
To find the value of x in math,
Pirates hunt viciously
For that treasure,
At the place marked "X".

It's such an
Enchanting
Enigmatic
Letter.

A twinkle in its eye,
Playful smirk on it's face,
Never to be found.

I guess
I could liken you
To the letter X.

Dull eyes
Dark under-eye rings
Dazed look.

She was tired,
But sleep,
Not even a weekend's worth of it,
Could cure her tiredness.

For she felt hopeless,
Driven to desperation.

Does it make us
Shallow
To read Divergent, Hunger Games
Or The Mortal Instruments?

Does it make us
Shallow
To listen to the latest pop hits,
Whatever's on the radio?

Does it make us
Shallow
To drink Starbucks or Koi,
And post pictures of it?

Does it make us
Shallow
To wear dresses, heels
And girly accessories?

Because I don't think it being shallow means liking popular things.

I try to resist.
I'm not giving in to the temptation
Of going back to you again.

You're standing there
Arms seemingly open
Warm smile on your face.

But I know I can't.
I'll come off as clingy, needy,
Desperate.

So I repeat to myself
In the head,
"You can live without him."

Why am I doing this?
Because I know
You'll take my heart
And throw it forcefully onto the ground,
Making it shatter
Into a thousand pieces
Irreparably broken.

Lately
I've been asking myself
This question:
Do I still love you?

Yes,
My heart still skips a beat
Whenever your name flashes on the screen.
My cheeks still turn red
Whenever our eyes meet.
My lips still curve into a smile
Whenever I think about you,
Which I do.

But do I actually love you?
Or do I simply miss
The memories,
The good times we've had?
Am I holding on to nothing?

Unfortunately
(Or is fortunately?)
I don't know the answers
To these questions.

"Sweet dreams,"
My parents would say before we went to bed.

If only.
For my dreams
Were nightmares
Grotesque, twisted monsters
Would run after me
In a dimly-lit forest
Only to have
A car come by suddenly
And run over me
Causing my organs to burst
And blood to stain the ground.

They said,
"May your dreams come true!"
Forgetting that
Nightmares
Were dreams too.

Cloaked in black
And sparkly purple sequins,
Waving his magic wand in the air.
He performs
In front of one crowd
After another.

The audience gasp in awe
As he pulls a rabbit
Out of his top hat.
People wonder,
"How does he do it?"
When he performs yet another card trick.

Finally the show is over.
The magician stands on the stage, alone,
Getting ready for his next act.
Magic,
It may seem mystical for the ordinary person,
But to the magician,
It's an everyday thing.