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Anti-clockwise
ml Aug 2016
Anti-clockwise
I think the thing with bad habits is you never really outgrow them. You can put markers on the wall to see how much you've grown but each time you look you'll only be disappointed to see you're still short of what you need. And art. Oh, can art make you lose your mind. You go into a space most people are afraid to be in for not many like facing their fears, much less their sins. But this craft of mine makes me go back to them again and again no matter how many times I've said they've been replaced by Love so real it's insane. So, I guess, not much has changed since the last time I've been in this bed. This chamber of sins and regret clinging to me like clothes on a hot summer's day. I try thinking of an escape but the only way through is facing them again and giving myself grace to make mistakes and I don't think I can do that. Not if I can't fully erase my past. I won't waste my time risking my life. You see, I'm so sick of the grime I'm living in! But there you stand as a beacon of hope and Light at the end of the tunnel. Amity doesn't seem so far away when your voice reminds me of who I am: Beloved daughter of the king. O save me, save me, save me! It seems like all I'm ever good at is shooting at my own body. "Rode hard and put away wet" is what they said and that is exactly what I feel. Poetry has probably dramatized this but who cares? As long as you get something out, right? For your craft! you'd do anything to save it! I run around the whole court and come back without the ball. And if words are really my only reprieve then fine, so be it! I won't try to change these crooked lines I was born in. Crooked bones and misplaced fire missiles firing at me, pointing a finger at me, THAT'S ME!! The one who's nodding her head at everything you've just said; "that's reality," she said. I can't change who I am so I guess I'll just have to make the most of it.
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An Unfinished Story
ml Feb 2014
An Unfinished Story
It's breaking.
I hear its pieces scattering across the floor.
I have no slippers.
Barefoot I walk across the glass pieces.
I am bleeding.
Time is smudging into one another and it has become a year now.
I am still bleeding.
I am still walking on glass pieces.
This time, there is more, however.
They are sharper but much more smaller and so you never know where it is.
And I think that is what evil is.
Subtly sitting there, waiting for you to make a mistake and step on the glass shard that will ***** your skin and make you bleed.
I was not aware the pain would be this severe. Something so trivial shouldn't hurt so much, should it?
But then it is not trivial. At least not to me.
It is much more. Much more. So much more.
But it looks so tiny compared to everything else I've been through.
That is why I do not get why I am so affected at something so little when I have experienced much worse.
The skies are getting darker. I can hear wolves howling and it is so solemn.
I think it senses my mood. I could only wish it is sympathising with me and singing me a tune.
m.j.
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A Pilgrimage
ml Aug 2016
A Pilgrimage
She lived in a prison trapped by her own demons
Far away on a land in the vacant city of Past
(This must be a new renaissance)
With its thousand over capacity of memories populating the country
They hiss and snarl and growl and tear at her clothes
Trying to get her to utter something
An apology or a plea, a command or a query
Say a prayer! Say a prayer! little girl in the prairie
Yet she will not break her silence
A stone wall set high above the cement floors of the four walls that were caging her in
She would not give up the strength she found
In the sliver of light that sneakily crept under the tight fit of her window sill
Every afternoon at 3pm when the sun was at its highest
So were her fears and doubts at their lowest
She had the name of Paula given by her ancestors
Who collected flowers of which pollens were distributed by bees
To their own specific ministries that thrived off of generosity and pure need to give
Yet at night the monsters came back to prey on her decaying bones that
Gave a home to the fatigued
Sensitive to every piece of sound she could collect in her ears
Looking around constantly wondering who’s there hiding behind every whisper of the wind
Psychotic laughter ate at her resolve, feeding from the tears they didn’t know will someday
**** them; she killed them with every desperate cry to her King
They knew not of a Prince of peace with glory and power and grandeur and majesty
Her hands grew weake but His remaidn strong throughout the years
They pushed back the walls that were falling
Based on the wrong foundations they couldn’t hold on to the weight on their shoulders
Pressing at every corner, every shoulder blade was a blade on its own, turning on itself
Like a jealous lover, they all fell away pointing their fingers indignantly
With an air of impudence with which they could not see or hear or think or imagine
Surely, they must have known of a God who could do wonders like use a stone as a destructive weapon against a Philistine?
All that was left of the cell where she was so untimely detained was smoke and ashes
Scent of old and Past – a receding memory from a warrior’s victory
It no longer held captive the prisoner it once held
So closely
So dearly
In its arms
Safe and sound she goes back to her Father's arms
Trapped in the embrace where freedom lived
And salvation, and grace, and mercy
"We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed."
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A tale of two cities
ml May 2015
A tale of two cities
There are handwritten love letters sewn in the lines of his palms and lips imprinted in the back of his hands.
The callouses of his hands used to be a home to a girl that came before you.
His bedsheets may still smell of her perfume and his heart may still be filled with trinkets of their memories together.
Her picture may be on his plastered on his walls.
But you should know that you will be the only one capable pulling him out of his misery and that houses can be rebuilt and memories can be rewritten.
You can't erase the past but you can write over them with the present.
If he pulls away from your hug, don't shed a tear on his stupidity. He's still trying to get over his first love. And that's never an easy feat.
But darling, once he learns how much of a catch you are,
He'll paint you in hues of red because he can't stop thinking about the way your tongue drew out all of his pain that one night he made love to you and called out her name.
You're gonna hurt and you might still be hurting. But stars shine brightest in the dark and I promise you that you're he's only light.
He will realize that your breath smells like sunshine and that your skin is made of galaxies and that he shouldn't let you go.
There will be celebrations in heaven whenever your hands meet his and angels will sing both of you to sleep.
In the meantime, you have to keep scraping off her voice in his ears and the promises she pressed on his wrists. You have to keep telling him stories of your family and ****** him outside where the sun is.
But when the day comes and you realize that you wasted your time, just remember how he caressed all your worries away from your head. Remember the words he traced on your skin that one night he made love to you and you cried and told him I love you. He was telling you he'll be a home to all of your dreams
And that he loves you, too.
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at my darkest hours, the devil eats at me
ml Sep 2014
at my darkest hours, the devil eats at me
It's been ages since I have touched these walls, no,
broken them with my fingers and the sole reason as to why this happens.
True, indeed that in the night the door opens, creativity floods in like when you promised Noah you'd flood them in.
Guess this one came without a warning; hit me like a tidal wave
Like those punches I tried so hard to dock away from
Insecurity has sneaked itself into my skin and is forming its own image the mirror can't see and I think I'm the devil.
I am depression personified. HA!
GOD!!!! You said you could save me! Look at the clay you've worked so hard to create. she's wasting away like dust on these walls you put her in. Called it a home, it was a home for crying. And breaking things with my head in hopes of regaining my sanity.
I don't think I've ever left hell when the fires crackling were like singing my name, inviting me in.
If only salvation was real, they said I know of a person, a
God that died and poured his blood on the cross and wore a thorn crown.
Guess what God! We're matching!
In the way that the blood is dripping off of these self-inflected wounds that cut deeper than the thorns on your scalp.
They bruise me like the way you turned away from my screams that one night when I was begging you....begging you to save me.
BLASPHEMY!!! God never did save me! If he did,
why am I still here? I looked at the skies day and night wishing a hand would break through the impenetrable clouds that seem far too grey at 8 am, and I assumed the worst. That when he died
he never thought of me. All these situations in my hands
knocking on every door i ever go through in, IN the darkness went and swept me off my feet. dark knights were always so
alluring yet I still yearned for the burning sensation throughout my whole body like when the sun greeted me.
WHERE IS THE ******* DIVINE TRINITY! There are three of them and yet they all left me. Not a single glance my way but a whirlwind of regret under my feet, wasting my time as if it was sand at the beach and they were never-ending.
I thought your God saves. I've popped them pills to try and help me have a saner mind and still no answer! When is this going to end?
You know it's real when I can't even glamorize my words to make this seem inviting!  
This is not a poem but a warning: this God they speak of, He is not real.
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Caution To Hands
ml Aug 2015
Caution To Hands
Hands
With their countless wit
And brave strength
Of their telling tales
And comforting embrace

Don't let them turn against you
Because they can sin faster than you can say Amen
They move down
And down
And down
Until it's reached a bottomless pit
Of unsuspecting victims

It's long fingers and strong grips
Will lead you to destruction
Where you and death meet

Your fate is in you hands
Don't crush it or give it away
Or turn it into a cautionary tale

Many have suffered under such ruthless hands
You could be one of them
Or you could be spared

Say a prayer
That He bless your hands
That it may not sin
So you shall not die
And you shall live
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Create
ml Apr 2016
Create
I want to be a creator. Of all things great and beautiful.

I want to be a creator but I've forgotten about one Creator. Also a Savior of all lost and hopeless. Of the broken pieces and the ladies in waiting. Always waiting.

I have forgotten how to be a servant to a king. The King. And that if I long to be someone great one day, I must labor now. Toil in the darkness of the night where nobody sees. Plant the seeds. Water the trees. Do this today. Not waiting for the right moment because the right is now. Right now I need to move. Move from the jungle of depression and the lake of loneliness. Such seduction of "Never leave" and "I'll never leave you."  One makes you lose yourself and the other drowns you. Both strangle you and keep you. Such is the circle of life. Of brokenness and of healing. Of serving and then creating. Of losing and then winning. Hakuna Matata.

Footsteps on an empty hallway will be shouts of victory in the morning. Battle scars will be battle cries. Tests will become testimonies. Messes will become messages. Victorious glory and glorious victory. Eternal, eternal.

I want to be a creator. A creator who doesn't forget about her Creator.
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Darling,
ml Feb 2014
Darling,
I look at you and I see trees dancing in tangible rhythm with the wind like your hair blowing in directions compasses never seem to have captured and your face is clear now. I see those eyes. Irises so black i fall inside just to test the height because i've always liked doing dangerous things and that dangerous desire has led me to loving you. carving your name in skies that you will never see as you have always been blind to anything Intimate that came from me. you once told me you never liked Affection and that it only brings up bad memories and i sit there itching to scratch the back of your head to erase anything painful from your past. I see secrets hidden in between your long eyelashes that never once saved me from staying trapped inside your gaze and i am shivering at how cold it is in here. Then i see those lips. Lips that my mother warned me not to kiss but Temptation always gets the better of me. Now i feel the attachment forcing itself inside my mouth and punching the back of my throat and I am choking at how fast i fell for you. I wonder how to get over the feelings that have soared over my whole nervous system. i am convulsing with each passing thought of you and i am tripping over my own stupid feelings that seem to be towering over skyscrapers. I was never afraid of heights but darling,am i scared of you. I am scared of how fast i will fall and how deep and how you will not be there to cushion my fall.  I wonder how do i get over someone who has wrapped me all over his little finger like grapevines only you squeeze out my blood to drink over dinner as you watch me burst into flames from the way my heart ignites every time your skin touches mine. but darling, i would rather die with your arms wrapped around my neck while i whisper my prayers one last time that my ashes leave a mark on your fingers and that i will always be the dirt underneath your fingernails and i think, i think, i will die happily. if that happened, baby, i will not regret a thing.
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depression
ml May 2014
depression
i'm sinking again.
falling like a weightless child into her father's arms, i fall into depression
like there are a thousand of arms pulling
me down into this pit of darkness i was once
so familiar with
and I CAN'T BREATHE.
THERE ARE ******* PARASITES SEEPING INTO MY SKIN
THE EMPTINESS CHILLING MY BONES AND I AM CLAWING DESPERATELY AT SOMETHING IN THIS NOW
TO HOLD ON TO BUT THE PROSPECT OF
SLIPPING INTO MY PAST SELF IS SO VERY MUCH ALLURING AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO
I JUST WANT TO PULLM Y HAIR OUT AT ALL THESE CONFLICTED
EMOTIONS

m.j.
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Do not let Death in
ml Dec 2013
Do not let Death in
Do not let Death in.
No!
Surely, he will take my breath away.
He does that well. Yes, very well.
Do not let Death in.
For he will make me go with him.
Somewhere quiet. Down into the catacombs because he says
He shall be the only one to see me.
He does not like sharing.
Even if he has a dozen others at his disposal.
Do not let Death in.
He does not leave once he has come inside.
No, he stays around.
Far too long for comfort but you will never notice.
For he appears only in the walls. At night. When you are all asleep.
He glides off the white paint and visits me.
But do not be afraid; he lingers in the air.
As he waits for his next victim, you will feel him chilling your bones.
Around your house, do not despair when you feel alone. He is with you.
Waiting for the right timing,
And then you shall stand in his trophy case filled with his other many conquests.
So please,
Do not let Death in.

m.j.
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dream? or a nightmare?
ml Dec 2013
dream? or a nightmare?
Are you a dream or a nightmare?
I can’t differ one from the other. You feel like both.
Like the waves crashing down on me,
I’m drowning deeper in your embrace.
Is that good or bad? I don’t know. I can’t feel the pain

When my eyes are closed and your lips are locked on mine.
Like puzzle pieces we fit.
You want this moment to freeze, I don’t.
‘Let’s continue,’ I say.
You pull back. Is this good or bad?
I don’t know.

I have forgotten how to breathe.
Butterflies have made a home inside my stomach. They said
that’s where they feel the most comfortable, roaming around freely in
the once-empty space. Your voice drowns

My incessant screams when I dream of you leaving.
It was a nightmare.
But you were there to shake me awake and bring me to the present with
your warmth and the heady smell of You.

So I guess you’re both a dream and a nightmare.
Is that good or bad? I don’t know.

m.j.
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drunken thoughts
ml Feb 2014
drunken thoughts
i am dust accumulating on an open page of the book you forgot to close because you were too excited to open the door for mommy and i think she brought you chocolates tonight.
i am the lint on your shoulder you never seem to notice because you are rushing to get to your interview and you are going to be two minutes late.
i am the the song you play at half past 3 a.m. when you're wondering where everyone is and why aren't they there to comfort you so you listen to a song that pushes you down the cracked cemented floor of your bathroom.
i am the words you never seem to be able to say to that guy that's playing the guitar at the front of the church and you sneak glances at him and smile seeing he's so immersed at what he's doing and that only makes you fall for him more.
i am the habit you never seem to break be it the edge of the blade that permanently tattoos your body with jagged lines or the strong smell of nicotine hanging at the edge of your lips or that hidden ***** bottle under your mattress because you're only fourteen.
i am every tree you look at but never understand.
i am every coffee you drink that never wakes you up.
i am every paper you write on that always gets scrunched up and found on the base of the dust bin at the end.
i am, i am, i am.
i am but a single version of many other things you would never get to fully utilise.

m.j.
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Everything
ml Dec 2013
Everything
you peel layers of your skin
expecting someone (or something)
hiding underneath
but you see Nothing
and it's expanding in your hands.
your palms are bleeding of desperation
wishing to feel Something.
it's spreading like wildfire
and has poisoned your whole body.

i see you,
although you have completely vanished and joined the air that i breathe.
and everyday i wish that i could
hold you and pour out Anything into your being
just to make you stay at least for a little while longer to make you understand that
you are Everything.

m.j.
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God only knows why love is drenched in tears
ml Jun 2017
God only knows why love is drenched in tears
Love
A raging sea
Restless waves

Love
Of flailing arms
And wreckless words

Love
Broken glass shards
Sharp edges pressing in

Love
With its streaming tears
And giving away of limbs

Love
The everlasting arms
And welcoming embrace
The calloused hands
Of putting you back together
And prying you apart

Unbroken circles
Cycles of brokenness
You run round and round
Til your legs give out

O sweet surrender
The bitter taste of bile
Word ***** of repentance
Whispered in screams
And still, the loving embrace
Of the calloused hands
And wounded wrists

The broken heart
The long lost song of love
Tells its tale
In the mess of the wild
And the wandering meandering

Don't get lost
Make your way back to me
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heavy thoughts pt. 1
ml Aug 2016
heavy thoughts pt. 1
there's a storm brewing inside of my chest
a heaviness that none can contest
of course, i might have written this out of context

i feel a lightning about to strike
a heavy hand's swift slap
that takes someone off-guard
a flutter of reasoning
like the wings of bird trapped in a gilded cage
fussing about listlessly as if someone
somehow caught itself in the trap of its talons
and does not, for the life of him, has the energy to escape

squished and pushed into the deepest, darkest, back of the room
conscience has no place
in this state of confusion
i try very hard to snap out of it
but every night, at 12 p.m., i find myself thinking of
what if and what could've been
wishing  (as if somehow i could wish it into existence)
someone would care enough
to extend their hand from above
and pull me back up from the mess i made a home in
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heavy thoughts pt. 2
ml Aug 2016
heavy thoughts pt. 2
a flood of tears
that taste a lot like fears
stress and overwhelming ambition
inhabiting the air like smoke

i feel a hunger deep within me
that no food can satisfy
a thirst
that not even water can satiate

i am filled with a longing
an abstract knowledge of what i am missing
the thing that only the wholeness of God can provide
the blanket of hope to comfort me
the pill of salvation to heal
arms that will hold through the toughest of years
hands that will caress every broken part of my being
a love that is stubborn and unrelenting
feet that will never stop chasing

i regret the times i missed the opportunity
to turn my head against my woes
and focus on Your absolute beauty
but here i stand
back in the wilderness
surrounded by Your creation
nature in all of its glory
basking in the naked sunlight that your smile provides
a crown shines like a halo on top of my head
from murky water to clear, diluted vision
focused on the mystery of the unkown
but inevitable truth that
You are the true help that I need
Even when I don't think I need it
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hope meets resignation
ml Sep 2014
hope meets resignation
I haven't written anything in so long.
I guess it's because I only ever write in here when I'm sad.
And I'm sad today.
If you asked me a month ago if I was okay, I would have said yes without hesitation.
But sometimes, life gets a better of you, y'know?
It's tiring. Being in the same place over and over again.
And it feels like a never-ending train ride.
And I'm frightened at how fast it's going.
It seems like there is no way out.
I could always open the windows and jump out, but I've done that before and it didn't work.
Actually, nothing really works.
I need a miracle.
Said in a hopeful whisper to the ear of The One you know will listen.
But you're doubting again. And you just, so badly, want Him to hear you out.
It's tiring; shouting for attention. Pulling your hair out and screaming.
Tearing your skin and pulling on the wind, trying to get heaven closer to you in hopes that He will hear you better.
And you've been crying out for days now.
There is still no answer.
You are in perpetual darkness.
And it's gripping you and you're wound up so tight you can't breathe.
And you need the escape.
And you need Him.
But He's not there.
Maybe He will never be.
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How much you mean to me
ml Dec 2013
How much you mean to me
You bought prescribed medicine,
But knew nothing could remedy this pain.
Oh darling if you only knew,
How much you mean to me.
Maybe you wouldn't dare to lift that blade
And cut across your skin.
Or find your knuckles very delectable
Enough to eat and watch
Food re-appear like magic.
You bough prescribed medicine
And swallowed the pills.
Went home and slept on your tears
Warmer than any man's arms could give.
You pushed these thoughts aside and closed your eyes
Because you knew nothing could remedy
The empiness you feel.
Oh darling, if you only knew
How much you mean to me.
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I as Something More and Something Less
ml Feb 2014
I as Something More and Something Less
darling, i.
i intend to die in the center of your palm as the contours of your skin hold me so dearly like your mother's fine china and the sweetness of her knuckles kissing your skin.
hear the mocking laughter of silence as no one comes to your aide.

however
                    i am less than the songs you listen to at three a.m. in the morning when you're drowning in your own pool of desperation to get away from the monsters in your head that keep you awake like a passionate lover.
but i am also more than the sharp blades you keep stashed beneath a pile of clothes in your closet. i am more than ******* that meets everything you eat as if they were neighbours and purging was their way of saying "hello".
i am more than the numbers on your weighing scale. i am more than the days
you spend your time sleeping in bathroom floors and getting comforted by the walls that never seem to like you and instead of them closing in, they back out. they back out and give you more space. more space for emptiness to pick you up only to throw you back on the floor even more severely than depression did.

m.j.
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i could have hated you
ml Feb 2014
i could have hated you
I COULD HAVE HATED YOU.
WITH CRACKED DOORS AND OVER-THROWN SOFAS.
RUMPLED SHEETS AND BROKEN SILVERWARE AS
TIDAL WAVES MOVE ALONG TO THE BEAT OF YOUR POUNDING CHEST.
I COULD HAVE SHOUTED MY HATRED FOR YOU USING MEGAPHONES RIGHT ON YOUR EAR SO IT STUCK PERMANENTLY.
I NEVER USED TO LISTEN TO AUTHORITY BUT I FIND MYSELF EMBEDDING EVERY WORD SHE SAYS ONTO MY SKIN AS IF IT WAS THE LAST BREATH I WILL EVER TAKE.
I COULD HAVE HATED YOU AND RIPPED MY HEART INTO SHREDS AS I WATCH YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME WITH A BOUNCE ON YOUR STEPS
FINALLY FREE FROM SOMEONE LIKE ME.
OH, DARLING, I NEVER EXPECTED YOU TO STAY BUT I NEVER EXPECTED TO FALL IN LOVE EITHER.
AND THAT WAS MY MISTAKE.
TO BE THE ONLY ONE JUMPING AND HITTING THE WATER WHILE YOU STOOD ABOVE WATCHING ME DIVE INTO MY OWN MISERY. YOU KNEW ALL ALONG, DARLING. YOU KNEW IT ALL ALONG.
I COULD HAVE HATED YOU BUT LOVE DOESN'T JUST LEAVE YOU WHEN YOU TELL IT TO. IT HAS ITS OWN SENSE OF TIME.
AND IT IS STILL STICKING TO ME LIKE A ******* PARASITE.
I COULD HAVE HATED YOU BUT WE BOTH I KNEW I COULDN'T DO THAT.
YOU TOOK ADVANTAGE OF MY LOVE AND DROPPED ME LIKE FIVE YEAR-OLDS DO WITH RICE GRAINS AND YOU NEVER BOTHERED WITH THE FIVE-SECOND RULE.
I COULD HAVE HATED YOU
BUT I LOVE YOU AND DARLING,
THAT WAS MY BIGGEST MISTAKE.

m.j.
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I Have A Silly Notion
ml Feb 2014
I Have A Silly Notion
I have a silly notion
That if I say it aloud it will come true.
That if I say it to you, you'll listen.
But I've been shouting 'I love you' even before I knew what it truly meant. I think I have already fallen I just didn't know yet.
I have lost so many glances In Your Way and every time I look for them I hyperventilate at how close I'm getting towards you.
There was never a moment you were never inside my thoughts and I think I would have to clean this vast room because there's too much You.. My mind wasn't aware but looking back, every action I made was to get your attention. The shame and embarrassment I felt would have been worth it if you reciprocated.
Now I'm older and I'm still figuring out why i find so much comfort in tear-stained pillows and soaked sheets and why pieces of me are scattered around the floor like my clothes. And that's how I feel. Like a piece of clothing discarded because it just doesn't look good. I know I'm not much of a looker but darling, if only you saw. If only you saw the way I looked at you like you were God and I prayed so hard that you would notice me. Then it wouldn't have mattered much, would it?
I'm still figuring out which bone I would have to break so that I would fit into the mold you seem to find your type in.
Now I'm older and I still haven't found the answers and I still have not gotten over you.
Now I'm older and I still have a silly notion.
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I have things to say
ml Apr 2016
I have things to say
I have things to say.
They say, "Go back to reality! That will give you no money!"
Market yourself in a way you will seem desirable to the masses.
"The masses" are just messes.
But me!
I don't even life myself sometimes.
Sometimes meaning all the time.
Always!

But things are changing and hearts are turning.
Birds are chirping a new tune and trees are swaying
to a different melody.
No longer are tormented souls tormenting.
No longer are the desperate fighting!
The hungry are eating and the thirsty are drinking.

There is courage arising.
A bad night is not a bad life. And when the sun awakens,
a lion can be heard roaring.
A shepherd can be seen dancing.
In the meadows, princesses are gathering their swords
and warriors are wearing their crowns.
Behold! For the clouds are parting to make way
for the Everlasting King of Beauty.

No more crying and no more fighting.
Blood will cease to paint these walls.
You will hear people rejoicing and preparing for a party.
Oppression is a mere smear in history.

So, I have things to say.
Things not everyone will be okay with.
Things that will capture the eyes of the wise and turn the heads of the fools.
I have things to say and so I shall speak.
Continue reading...
im sorry
ml May 2015
im sorry
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I don't have a flat stomach and slim thighs.
I'm sorry I don't have a slender waist and an unblemished face.
I don't have silky hair and smooth skin.
I don't have green eyes or blue or the sparkle of mischief.

But I do have arms that can hold you for long hours of time and hands that will stroke your back as you cry.
I have eyes that will hold yours for a long time until your gaze falls away from the weight of my stare.
I have feet that will lead you out of the dark and I have lips that will tell you all the reasons why you're the one.
I have ears that will listen to your nags and rants.
My wrists will hold your pulse home and my heart will beat in time with yours.
My life will only exist with you in it and galaxies will be our best friends when people realize they're not of our caliber - because we can see things that others can't. And we feel things others don't even know exist.

I may not be perfect in the eyes of the society but baby,
You will be in mine.
Continue reading...
it's all i see
ml Apr 2016
it's all i see
still looking for a punishment
still looking for a way to fix this
the works of my hands and the steps of my feet
led me to a barren country
(barren meaning me)
you blew it up like ***** & gomorrah
(they're also me)

soon fire and smoke will leave bruises on my body
take my breath away and leave me hanging
(i guess they all leave me)

too many men too many to count have stumbled and fallen
david and goliath
i am the rock flying
(to where? nowhere)
flying to fall
flying to destruct

but i guess what i am trying to say
is that i want to be punished
to account for all the things that i've done
that i was never tried for
yet all i receive
all that i can see and think and imagine
is the grace that you freely give
and i don't think i deserve it
i know i don't
i know i never will

yet all around me
no matter what i'm doing
or what i'm feeling
all i see when i seek you
is mercy
i can't run away from it
it's there every time i turn around
because mercy just loves to over throne judgement
o how merciful is he! to not have forsaken me!
i swear i'm worse than what you can see
but he! o how grace and loving is he
to turn away when he is not pleased
to reach for me even as i am *****
i do not think i deserve this
yet it's all i see

and i guess what you're trying to say is
you just love me
Continue reading...
misery
ml Apr 2014
misery
i'm trying not to notice that i'm running out of chances and that there is a high possibility that i am going to get punished for the sins that i have made
because i am back to square one again
where i left you and i lost all my desire to be happy
and i just quit
didn't want to live
i remember that second i told you that i've lost hope and i don't know whether i still believed in God
i have been trying to get my **** together but i keep going back to the same place i was before
and this misery still tastes as good as i remember
it's still as warm as your comfy old sweater
and i haven't lost my touch at all
i'm still good at this....
being miserable
Continue reading...
My story
ml Sep 2014
My story
there are words in my mouth that are clawing at the back of my throat and are wanting to get out
i try so hard to push them back in but my saliva were never as strong as the sea that pushed back
my fears and longing, longing for change became my company. sadness became my muse and i tried to paint her as best as i could with the pen that i hold in between my fingers and told a
story i've never told a soul, no, they wouldn't understand.
suffering only exists to those who have never met the one.
the funny thing is, i shook his hand and he pulled
me in. of course, white was never my style of clothing.
like lucifer i fell. having bigger dreams than my sanity could ever be, it tried to grow wings to accommodate it.
there are repressed feelings inside of me that are pounding the walls of my chest and they might just break them in.
i hear stomping.
the stomping foot of the police that came to arrest me: "Ma'am, your house has been sold" well, home was never a home to me! prison was what it was called. imprisoned by
my own demons and they were so happy, happy, happy.
joyful things didn't exist but when you took me in and smiled and told me "You're beautiful, my daughter. You can make it" it was quickly replaced by a frown that marred my face when you put me back
in the four walls that haunted me. my bedroom was a constant lover to my pain. the bathroom and i had a friends-with-benefits relationship and it worked for a while
watching me bleed the darkness out of my soul, it drank whiskey and sang me songs filled with sorrow
that fueled the pain and the hatred and everything swirling inside those pill bottles i found at the medicine cabinet i was looking for for days, i dumped it
and all of its remains in the trash because it gave me nothing.
i needed it quick. and painless. because i was tired of this pain that was hitting my right on the cheek.
bleach became a second option and i swear i can still taste the chemicals on my tongue and the smell of acid filling my lungs. i can still feel the sting it left on my skin as it kissed every available opportunity, every single
surface of my mind screamed DEATH and it was painted with your blood that you shed when you died on the cross and i thought: this is it.
it has finished. and that all of this suffering will be no more and i can call your arms home and listen to you sing me to sleep as your sweet voice reassured me that i was safe
safety was never been fond of me and my parents thought it was all a joke.
Continue reading...
Please answer me
ml May 2014
Please answer me
still can't accept this gripping reality
that's hitting me right on the cheek
i thought i would get past this
actually thought i did it
it only took one moment
to change everything
and go back to where i was before
here on my knees
asking for forgiveness
am i still whispering Your name in vain?
is this silence still your answer?
these goosebumps on my flesh never seem to go away
is this a sign of your yes or no?
i never figured it out
Lord maybe you could've said something a little more
distinct so i would've known
who it was
is there any reason
any reason at all
to why i'm doing this again
why do you permit this?
i'm asking question after question
the same
questions i thought i
knew the answer to but you
keep proving me wrong
when's all this going to end?
when am i ever going to fully comprehend
the silence that greets me
when i whisper your name
wishing it was enough to fill
this void and this pain
couldn't ever yell it out (not what i want, no)
for fear of being called crazy
talking to nobody
i know you're there
so
please,
answer me
what's the point of all these cruelty
that never seem to stop haunting me
i swear they're always at the back of my head
telling me to do things i wish i never did
they're all there
imprinted on my skin
i call out to you
"God, please save me"
i told myself not to expect anything but
i still get disappointed.
is this how it will always go?
push and pull?
as if there's no way to bridge this gap
as if your hand was never enough
to pull me back up?
You died on the cross
to rid us of our sins
how come i'm still like this?
with unanswered prayers and broken dreams?
Continue reading...
running away from reality
ml May 2015
running away from reality
my feet hurts from running
from running to and away
from the twigs and stones on the path
from the memories of the past
from the harsh wind of reality.

my feet hurts from running
from running in dark tunnels
of thoughts and things
better stay hidden.

my feet hurts from running
from running away from ink that sloshes on paper
and harsh lines replacing letters.

my feet hurts from running
i'm not running
my footsteps are fading into the space
of clogged arteries
and twisted veins from trying to keep
from running,
i should stop running.

pacing, pacing, pacing
walking around eggshells
tiptoeing around broken glass shards
of what is and
what is now.

now is reality,
today i start walking to my destiny
facing head-on trucks with blaring music of
THIS IS THE END trying to run me over.

my feet are hurting
from staying planted on the cement floor
as trucks try to run me over
and crows perch on branches
waiting to feed on my carcass
and my feet are hurting,
from finally realising that this is how it should be.
Continue reading...
Senses renewed
ml Jan 2014
Senses renewed
Eyes that finally opened.
Nose that smelled the sweet aroma of the wind.
Mouth that started laughing.
Ears hearing words as they talk to me.
Heart that is finally beating.
It's beating, beating, beating.
Lungs that finally carries air inside.
I'm breathing, breathing, breathing.
Continue reading...
St Francis
ml Aug 2016
St Francis
Patron saint of lost causes and tired smiles
Heart as tragic as the setting of the sun
The awning of the moon never comes
I keep waiting for someone to save me
But all I do is drown
I leave a trail of broken pieces of myself in every room I enter
At the end of the year I reckon there won't be any of me left
Yet I still keep giving myself away to people who don't reciprocate it
I keep handing out my heart to people with slippery hands who never seem to hold it right
When it falls they turn away without being contrite
You call yourself my friends but really you're just another group of people among those who have already left me
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Sweet child of mine
ml Aug 2016
Sweet child of mine
Little girl with the hair as gold as the sun tied in ribbons in tight little ringlets, never lose the youth you wear on your face. Keep reaching your hands out to the sky hoping that a hand would come by and sweep you up into a lullaby. Never lose the smile you give out to strangers who doesn't deserve it; one day someone will tell you that it's not safe and the happiness you once gave will be diminished and put away into a box where it will not intimidate those who are swimming in their own sadness. Never lose the giggles you pour out to the tress in the garden where you let loose and dance and twirl and sing on top of your lungs. Never lose the passion you have for flowers and butterflies and everything nice; one day someone will teach you that it's not wise pouring out so much of your heart to those who will not reciprocate it.
Never lose the gleam in your eyes at the beauty of the night sky with the twinkling stars. Never grow up. Growing up means shedding the amazement at everything you see. The world starts fading in shades of grey and blue and everyone falls into a pattern of conformity, walking on straight lines of never ending working, wondering if this is all the world will end up to be. Don't follow the steps of your ancestors, falling on their graves with regret on their shoulders. Make a life of your own where your heart is in step with your brain; don't let others tell you otherwise. They're wrong, these two always got along. There's so much to see, more to discover, less to ignore and less to exclude. Capture everything in your memory, everything has a place in history. Those monsters on the TV that you see don't really exist, they're all make believe. You can make them your friends and learn all of their secrets until you've exhausted the evil inside of them. Never forget, sweet little girl, you are more than you seem to be.
Continue reading...
Two and a half years
ml Mar 2016
Two and a half years
I didn't think it was possible
To walk away from the darkness
From the vices and the actions
I voluntarily took part in

Two and a half years ago
If you asked me
Where I would be in the future
I would say
"At the bottom of a beer bottle
Waiting to be thrown at the floor
To be a glass shard
For people to walk on
And bleed from"

I would say
I would cut
And cut
And cut
And cut
Until the whole canvas of my body
Would be filled
Of ridges and lines
Bleeding of agony

I would say
That I would stay
Right there
On the floor
Crying, Screaming
Wishing I could leave

Two and a half years later
I stand at the end of the dark tunnel
That the metaphor they used
Became my life
And that the sun shines
In my face and I no longer dislike it

That I no longer wish for the darkness
Or wish for death to eat me up
I no longer wish I would find the courage
To **** myself
Because I've tried
And I'm still here standing

Still standing because
Now I know I can't be who I want to be
Without the guidance of the One
I used to think was out to get me

But He showed me that scars could heal
Just like His
That pain and torment
Could just as easily become
Joy and contentment
He lavished me with grace
And painted me with love
And rewrote my story with mercy
Continue reading...
Unfortunate Circumstances
ml Aug 2015
Unfortunate Circumstances
raindrops are falling on me
i almost trip on my feet
from how hard i'm running
i try to dodge the bullets
coming at me
one by one
as if someone's playing golf and doesn't know what they're doing

i am this tiny being of insignificance
yet i am moving as if i am a whole substance of meaning
i know they won't catch me
yet i act as if they will

i hide in closets
when no one's looking
and i keep running
when no one's chasing

paranoia or insecurity?
both things are larger than life
they encapsulate me
they trap me in a bottle
when i am free
and i willingly
enter the prison
holding the key
i refuse to go out
because will hardly comes by
and motivation is sleeping
i try
but persistence only knocks at the door
and doesn't come in

Life has met twilight and dawn
while i remain trapped in this echoing hall
doom and shame, they keep me company
and the night cuddles me close

we are best friends
in this sunny morning
where grass is growing
and flowers are singing
the wind is laughing
and the trees are dancing
to the melody of a song
my brain is playing

i lay on my coffin
and watch myself struggle to breathe
three feet away
i have dug my own grave

reality still hasn't dawned on me
that this is of my own doing
i guess
when you're so used to seeing darkness
that's all you want to see
A tale about how we are the ones who subject ourselves to the pain we suffer and we are also the ones who has the key to open the doors of that misery.  No matter how we try to run from that reality, it will still come back to haunt us if we don't **** it ourselves. Don't let disappointment and unfortunate circumstances take your light out of you! A thousand failures come to a great victory. Take heart and be courageous, my dear friends. The war is not over.
Continue reading...
Untitled
ml Apr 2015
Untitled
if you see storms
hiding beneath my irises,
blow them away for me. please.

if you see stars
stuck in between the creases of my palms,
bottle them in a jar for me. please.

if you see jards of broken glass
twined with strands of my hair,
take them out for me. please.

but please don't hurt yourself
while trying to save me.
if you think you're about to fall,
please stop yourself.

i am a hurricane waiting to happen.
and that there are secrets hiding in the
creases of my lips as i smile
don't hold me accountable for
the loss that has not yet been found

they're not in the words i have yet to say
nor in the laughter i have yet to produce

they say music is both a prosecutor and a defender.
i have not decided which of those i am but in the meantime,
*let's pretend this never happened
i am babbling. forgive me.
Continue reading...
Untitled
ml Aug 2016
Untitled
It seems as if the only purpose of life is to give its guests a hard time.
The inhabitants of this world regularly engage with their demons without having an escape.
They're trapped in an abusive relationship with their mistakes,
Seduced by their pains and manipulated by the familiarity it provides.
They start feeling like family, like home, like all you've ever known was that feeling at the deep end so time and time again you choose it.
Instead of looking for a way out, you lie on the mess you've made.
Why does our minds trick us so?
Never giving up the role of authority, disregarding the presence of the Trinity.
It gives orders like a general training its soldiers for a suicide mission. I'm on a suicide mission.
Made up of glass shards and all the other parts of me he broke on a single mission, hellbent on destroying my very being mission.
Sin is a lover as cunning and sly as a snake.
He says he sees your beauty despite all of your mistakes.
What a tragedy! he says....it's a good thing because it matches his profanity.
His nature of bending the rules as if it was made of elastic and not God's iron fist must have warned you to stay away from him.
But the bad ones always have the charm and they pull you closer and **** your soul until there's nothing left anymore.
But a righteous lamb was slain for the entertainment of the bloodthirsty hyenas screaming for something, someone to blame for their fake faith, second-rate theology.
Tetelestai; THIS IS IT
This is the time your world's supposed to turn around but why is mine turning anti-clockwise?
I've always been a follower of Christ yet I still feel the way I did when I was a child.
Is there a curse put upon poetry?
Do all writers write from their own empty souls begging for a story?
With hedonistic urges propelling our descent?
Continue reading...
Untitled
ml Dec 2013
Untitled
She walks down the hallway with dark-tinted sunglasses but it’s 9 pm and she’s late for her night class. You know this because you're in the same class and you’re also late but the difference is your knees keep kissing the floor from trying to run with your soaked shoes stomping on the quiet hall of your school. Her back is facing you but you can almost make out her side-view. You see a cigarette dangling on her lips. She exhales and drops the stick on the floor, her boots making contact with the ashes to disintegrate it further. She finally turns around and you stare at her wondering how someone could be so calm and collected. She took off her glasses and stared at you, shaking her hair to rid the little droplets of rain that made a home in the black silky strings attached to her scalp. Your palms sweat and you grow confused. You see nothing in the orbs reaching a hand out to yours and suddenly you’re catapulted back to the now and you’re staring at a reflection of yourself in the girl’s bathroom after making an excuse to your professor about how you’re feeling sick but really, you’re sick of the sharp nails scraping the board doing nothing to teach you algebra or...what class were you taking? You can’t stay there. You feel like your skull is about to break. The bag under your eyes feel heavy and they’re screaming at you that they can’t carry your eyes any longer. You ignore them. Because your chest is saying the same thing about your heart. You wonder how you got to the point where your brain stopped sending out your conscience to tell you that ***** is not gonna wipe out your memory and that blades were meant to tear other things, not your skin. Where your angel and your devil fall off your shoulder from trying to shake off all your feelings and they stopped trying to get back up there and whisper to your ear. The devil wins anyway. And he knows it. You know it. (So why did you let it happen?) You stare at the mirror carefully and regard the girl with the pale skin, empty vortex in the shape of eyes and try to reach out your hands inside to see if you can uncover something but you notice your fingers disappearing in front of you and you can’t feel your arms. In fact, you can’t feel the rest of your body. You are simply a husk of man, now. An apparition that looked like the girl after self-destruction that one night which led to an unbreakable habit. The Future aches for the Present to switch places because it knows more a lot about what's going to happen but you also know that your mistakes are gonna catch up with you sooner or later so you stand back and watch the Present detonate on the bathroom floor.
The tiles are cold and you feel your limbs going weaker. The walls are closing in on you and you wonder if they came to keep you company. You want some company.  Your eyelids is falling asleep and the last you see is a closed door. You liked that door. It didn't give way to strangers tonight. You try to listen to your heartbeat but the silence is screaming too loud. You plead for it to go away but it stays. And you stay. Laying on the bathroom floor, you stayed. Everyone else resumed what they were doing and you stayed on the bathroom floor. You stayed.

m.j.
Continue reading...
Untitled
ml Sep 2014
Untitled
you see, you're only ever concerned when there's something wrong with me. you wouldn't do anything when i never said a word but daddy, i am screaming in the silence that is looming over this family and i wanted so badly for you to help me but you only ever do anything when i go off on the deep end and that's when your superman senses kick in and try to hold me.
i'm sorry. i'm quick to let go of your grasp now because i know this never lasts and it will only come back to haunt me if i
held on to you. what a mistake trusting
people was. i knew this would happen. that is why i was so afraid to speak up and tell you what was wrong in fear of you judging me and that was what happened. ha, you see, i'm quite smart too; i knew this would happen. but why does it still hurt me? twice in a row and i'm still not used to it.
i have got to ******* get used to this.
Continue reading...
What keeps the world turning
ml Aug 2016
What keeps the world turning
One day the tears that I've shed will be like the floodgates of heaven to wash away the heavy depression in the face of the youth with so many burdens and no arms to hold them. My scars will be prophetic praise to the One who gave me the opportunity to experience pain in order to translate the feelings of the broken who has no words, no home for their voices. I will carry their hearts just like the Father does. And even when I struggle against the weight, He will pull me back up with His nail-marked hands and no soul shall fall through the holes in the center of his palms. His love will be the anchor of every foul-mouthed sailor treading the seas of destruction. In cabins with their daughters and their mothers, their wives and concubines, hope will shine at the break of dawn through compasses that turn away from the south end of the spectrum; "your sins are as far from you as the east is from the west." No more tears will be shed for the lives who have chosen a life without a Saviour; "for anyone who is in Me is now a new creation." Victory is up for the taking for those who want it. The journey is long and hard as the road is treacherous, it stops for no one and no one dares to take a second look. Go forward, go north, find a man without a sword but a heart of gold. Follow Him; "take up your cross", stare straight ahead of you, keep your eyes on the goal. "Run your race and finish it with grace." Pull others along with you without breaking your gaze and show them the way, the truth and the light. Find trees for resting and fruits for sharing, for what is borne out of love is what keeps the world turning.
Continue reading...
you
ml Dec 2013
you
i have written poems solely about You and i think it is time to write about something else. for a long time, You have been the subject of everybody's interest and it has made me envious of how they could describe You better than i. i write this to celebrate the existence of others because they behold as much beauty as you and should be much appreciated, too. also because some of Them hold much more potential than You but it is only you who get the attention. a bit unfair, is it not? i do wish to be able to write more about Them and minimize the times i write about you.
Continue reading...
You Exist
ml Dec 2013
You Exist
you exist in the clothes you left hanging on the rack of my closet,
stolen by the hands of a desperate girl trying to remember her boyfriend;
she's bottling up his scent and says it is the most intoxicating perfume ever made.
you exist in the(your) left side of my bed in between
the rumpled sheets and the indent that reminds me that
your head once laid there.
you exist in the mug you used to drink your tea in
which is now well-acquainted with my lips
and of bitter coffee. you exist
in my hands, now empty without yours to hold and in my fingertips
ablaze with memories of it running through your hair.
YOU EXIST IN EVERY THOUGHT THAT EVER PASSED MY MIND
AND EVERY BEAT MY HEART COULD CREATE. YOU EXIST IN MY VEINS AND IN THE KNOTS
MY STOMACH MAKES AT THE SIGHT OF YOU.
YOU EXIST IN EVERY BREATH I TAKE AND EVERY WORD I SAY.
YOU EXIST. YOU EXIST. YOU EXIST.
Oh, but how I wish you didn't.

m.j.
Continue reading...

— The End —