In sakura-scented spring,
powder-pink feathers are falling.

A thousand moon-suns have set,
yet I still hide under your wings.

Dear Diary,

I've been doing it all wrong.

I don't think we can purposely set out to "find" ourselves by going for volunteering sessions, or choosing to live alone away from our families, or forcing ourselves to meet new people when we don't really want to.

It's kind of just like...like the way we forget how to breathe or walk when we're conscious of doing it, or how love unexpectedly just happens from a friendship when we've been wasting our time overturning chairs and rocks. Like how that one time we turned the entire house inside out searching for that particular item, only for it to somehow find its way back to us a year later behind an unsuspecting dusty cupboard.

I'd love to be the best person I could be right now.
But I've learned that it takes time. It doesn't happen by force.
And I should enjoy my life while I'm at it.

Love,
Girl-who's-finally-at-peace-with-herself

I don't know who I am,
but I know the person I want to become.

I want to be rich,
like mother teresa's heart of gold,
like the iridiscent colours in sunshine-eyes.

I want to be poor,
like the beggar who appreciates any scrap of food,
like the bankrupt who eventually learns to count his blessings.

I want to be quiet.
Like the introvert who wishes she wasn't so,
like the girl who meets her boyfriend's parents for the first time.

I want to be loud,
like the drunkard who casually spits out truth,
like the pounding club music that makes my head hurt.

I want to be nothing,
like how the girl who doesn't belong anywhere is treated,
like how a guy who's afraid of commitment denies your relationship.

I want to be everything.
Like the atoms our entire physical world is constructed out of,
like the girl who's your first pill of the morning
and last of the night.

I want to be weak,
like professor xavier, who's too kind for his own good and can't walk.
like the flimsy piece of paper that caused your paper cut.

I want to be strong,
like professor xavier, who can control people with his mind,
like how it feels to be reminded that you're needed and loved.

I want to be a bundle of contradictions.
Rich yet poor,
quiet yet loud,
everything but nothing,
weak but strong.
Well, maybe I don't.

Or maybe I already am.

All I can hear is silence,
when torrential storms should be brewing,
volcanoes erupting,
hurricanes and tornadoes
turning everything into decadence.

All I can hear is silence,
when the world should be collapsing,
whirlpools of black holes ******* in its iridescence,
until the world is no longer in existence.

You were my world,
and I can no longer feel your presence.

Because when I place my ear against your chest,
all I can hear is silence.

"no one wants to talk to me."
she declared,
with hands outstretched.