the problem
of floating between groups
is the fact that
i never truly
feel that i belong
anywhere
not with you
and not with you.

i'm drowning
in a sea of people
and i wonder
if you see me

i wish i could erase my ******* existence from this world.

nothing new today
the same old routine
of feeling like
i can never fit in

they told me
i was different
and i used to think
it was a good thing
but as i grew up
i realised
people don't appreciate
eccentricity
at all

the state of exhaustion
perpetual sleepiness
oh what bore!
oh what disaster!

i just really miss you.

a crack in her voice
a tremble in her words
a shiver from her body
a tremor from her words
her anger gave her palpitations
her anger brought tears to her eyes
she clenched her jaw
and ****** her fingers

the wall next to her
no longer seems like a wall
it was a punching bag
the blood trickles down her fist
but she doesn't feel the pain
not more than the anger
red hot burning anger

would you care
if i died tonight

would you care
if i had permanent
tear tracks
down my face

would you care
if you found multiple
razors hidden in every
crook and corner of my space

would you care
if you saw swollen
red slashes
across my body

i would think not
because you caused them
and i hope you're proud
that today
your little sister
dragged a tool across
her skin
because of you.

the wound of heartbreak
leaves her bleeding
figuratively speaking
yet the pain never lessens

day by day
she pushes herself
to get over him
and what they used to be

as time passes
she slowly mended her wounds
with band-aids
but not medication

he approached her
after some time
she fell for the same tricks
again for him

he rips off her band-aids
unknowingly in a savage manner
causing her
to bleed to death

my mama told me
death is a dark dark place
where innocent minds
should not wander

my papa told me
death is a bad thing
and deaths means
the end

my priest told me
death is something uncontrollable
which only God knows
when and where

but
my demons told me
death is beautiful
and every end is a new beginning

they told me
death is not just a place
death is a person
death is me

*i am death

destiny looked upon us
as we called it fate
and destiny raged
denying us till date

almost like a bullet train
in the blink of an eye
you were gone
and i was still
frantically
grasping onto
the thin air
where the smell
of your cologne
that i live on
lingers

i deserve nothing of your calibre
i am a monster
who is worthless
and undeserving of your love

she makes you happy
she is beautiful beyond words
she is kind
everything i am not

you are amazing
inexplicable beauty
everything i am not
yet i'm irrevocably in love with you

so don't mind lil ole me
i'll just stand here
and mend my breaking heart
whilst faking happiness for you

as she thrashes
about in her bed
confined to the prison
in her mind
she attempts positivity
starting each morning
telling herself
that
better days are coming

oh what fat hopes
oh what false hopes
oh how silly you are
to believe this too
*will pass

oh what fools are we
to think that life
brings happiness for free
just when will we learn
everything comes with a price
sometimes one
we cannot afford

plethora of emotions
unfurling inside me
is this all worth it
it's dark upfront i can't see

my parents taught me
to remain silent
when i have nothing nice
to say

they said
people will not
assume i'm a mute
if i keep quiet

so now
when something requires a nasty reply
i keep silent and
raise my *******

i finally understood
why they gave hurricane names
like how you'd
name a pet

you came and wreck
everything in my life
one at a time
sometimes all at once

you made it hard
for me to open up
to people i barely know
or have tried to know

but you're not
the one to blame
it was me
and all me

you're not a person
you're the anxiety
i let loose
inside of me.

she closes her eyes
as the nightmares flash
she screams
and wake up in cold sweat

her heartbeat accelerates
as she glances furtively
around her dark room
frightened and terrified

as she lies back on her bed
she keeps her eyes open
in fear of the dark
the unknown lurking there

yet another night of hers
where her sleep was disrupted
just like any other nights
its a wonder how she hasn't gotten used to it

she prayed and wished
to escape this state of insomnia
even if it was comatose
she wouldn't mind

now
i'm not speaking for everyone
just the ones
who are like me

it's not masochism
neither is it psychotic
but the pain we love
and the love we pain

for pain brings us
to new levels of understanding (the self, others)
to greater heights of seeing (the self, others)
to lower grounds with (the self, others)

p a i n
the dreaded four lettered word
l o v e
another dread in another day

the immeasurable love
that brings us
immeasurable pain
and yet we throw ourselves in

for what more can pain/love do
except to make you feel
                                          ...pain?

of sadness
of emptiness
of thoughts unsaid
of relationships unmade

they say it gets better
my question is when exactly
i'm tired of feeling like i don't matter
i'll leave this world gladly

why do i set myself on fire
just to keep others warm?
in a constant state of ire
no longer want to conform

baseless fright
i just know it *****
but its just another night
better for me to give no *****.

"i'm just tired"
she says
more to herself
than anyone else

the truth was
she hadn't had
a good night's sleep
in weeks now

just like how
she hasn't felt
happy in a
long long while

remember the boy
you made fun of
3 years ago and
never stopped

he died today
and you went to his funeral
your heart beating
but his was not

you uttered sorry
you tried to push the blame
consoled yourself
saying you didn't mean it

the heavy weight
in your heart
it didn't leave you
you knew what you did

you started drinking
a bottle every night
but that was only
for starters

it extended
to several a night
until the day
you got hospitalised

karma, you thought
and boy were you right
it is karma
and it ****** you up.

you made me laugh,
you made me smile,
while you were hurting inside
all this while.

i just wish i knew more
when you were still breathing
now all that's left
are our grieving

wherever you are now,
i hope you're happier,
i hope you achieve optimum
i hope your smile is brighter

it will always hurt,
knowing you chose this path
and knowing i couldn't help
nor could anyone do 'nough

kim jong-hyun,
there will not be a day
the world doesn't mourn
there will not be a day
your sacrifice go unseen
there will not be a day
i won't miss you.

rest in peace,
my dear childhood idol,
you did well,
you did well.

the thin wall
of pretence
is the barrier
between us

for what we lie
for what we pretend
when all we wanted
was to be happy

but alas we never learn
as we once again lie
not to anyone else
but to ourselves

day 1
you come as new born
introduced to this world
by two people
who you will come to know
as strict yet loving
mom and dad

day 3650
you turn ten years old
as you start to learn
the ways of the older
you no longer revel
in the attention of the elder

day 6570
you're now celebrating
your eighteenth birthday
your parents stand aside
silently clapping as their minds
attempt to comprehend how much you have grown

day 9125
you stand in the altar
your mouth forms the words of "i do"
your mom sobs into your dad's chest
your now husband looks at you
with love and adoration
this is the start of your new life

day 10220
a cry rang through the air
it was the cry of a newborn
you felt what your parents felt
when they had you

day 16425
you stand before
the grave of your parents
and you thank them profusely
for the tender love and care
they have provided you all these years
as you promise to do the same
for your children

day 29565
you lie on the hospital bed
on the brink of life and death
as your life flashes through your head
you know you have done well
and there are no regrets
to this life
and you slip away
surrounded by your loved ones

"cheer up"
they say
as if it helps
in any way

Chinese songs and thunderstorms

you laugh at her
you poke her
you mock her
you make fun of her

she cries
she lies
she cuts
she starves

but yet when it is revealed
the horrifying things she has done
not to anyone else, but to herself
you gasp and act so innocent

the day you made her cry
the day you made her cut
is the day you killed her
not physically, but mentally

so for all of eternity
i hope you carry the guilt
of being a ******
that killed the soul of a girl.

you are my favourite tune
the one giving me shivers
running down my spine
and goosebumps along my arms

you are my favourite tune
the one on a loop replay
with all the melodies
secured in every nook and cranny of my brain

you are my favourite tune
the one that brings tears
to my eyes
and flashbacks of memories

you are my favourite tune
the one you and i
both danced to
with our bodies pressed
against each other
on a cold december night

the indescribable feeling
of getting to know someone
to know every single thing
that makes them fun

but it's also the 2am talks
and the 3pm walks
that we truly discover
what we can uncover

for sometimes
people disappoint
when we build
expectations far too high
for them to surpass

you're going to explode
and every part of you
that got torn apart
in the process
will eventually heal

you'll never be normal
again
you'll live knowing
it happened

but scars
means you survived
and you're stronger
than you can ever perceive
yourself to be

she stares at the bottle of pills
sitting calmly on the table
as she picks up a paintbrush
and begin her painting

her choice of colour was red
always shocking red
her canvas was smooth
smooth as a baby's skin they say

but no one will ever know
the days she spent locked up
in her room painting
her life away

that her canvas was her skin
the paintbrush was the blade
the choice of colour was her blood
and she couldn't stop

tired of
human interaction
the fake smiles
and sad eyes

the air still and stagnant
as it has always been
since the day you left
for what more could i say
if your heart never wanted to stay?

of them all
you were the one
I least expected
to stab me
with a piece of my own heart

i started writing when i was 15 years old. every word that came from me stemmed from a dark place that i was trying my best to come out from. every poem i wrote was a desperate plea for help. it's been 5 years since then and i'm in a completely different place now, mentally and physically. i'm far from home, doing my degree in psychology, hoping that one day i'll get to help people who felt the same way i did years ago. it took me a while but i found myself, and i found love. i found love for myself, and i found love for others. and most importantly, i found love for a specific him, and i know that even if we don't ever make it to the end together, he will always be someone very precious to me. as such, this is "the end". but this is also "the beginning". the beginning of my 20s, the beginning of my university life, and the beginning of my life.

thank you for walking with me through the toughest moments/days of my life. when things were bad all i had were my words and hellopoetry to release them to. you kept me afloat when i couldn't do so myself. so thank you, so so so much.

you are a thunderstorm;
when anger crackles beneath
and your veins pop

you are a thunderstorm;
when laughter bubbles out
together with a cheshire-like grin

you are a thunderstorm;
when tears pour out
with choppy breathing

you are a thunderstorm;
when in his arms
and when not

you are a thunderstorm;
cold and electrifying,
but beautiful.

she loved the rain
the splitter splatter sound
every drop makes
were music to her ears

she loved the thunder
the ferocity of its roar
gave her the strength
to hold on for awhile more

she loved the lightning
the beauty of each stroke
containing the lethal power to hurt and ****
yet remain in inexplicable beauty

in short she loved thunderstorms
a mixture of rain thunder and lightning
just like her inner conflict of thoughts
and emotional turmoil

she compared herself to thunderstorms
not that she was a beauty
but she believed that
it depicted the words she wanted to say

she loved them so much
she chose to die on the day
there was a thunderstorm outside
pouring out things she never said.

"a beautiful tragedy"
they named her

she trudged into class
an hour late as usual
having dealt with her ******* father
and narcissistic mother

the bandages around her wrist
was tighter than usual
the sleeves of her shirt
was longer than usual

her smile was empty
just like she was
devoid of emotions
just empty

she wasn't always like this
she used to be bubbly
and she danced
all the time

she used to be happy

"a beautiful tragedy"
they named her.

is she you?