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yan Dec 2020
purgatory is cruel
but love is relentless
straddle a fence between life and death means whether i will wake tomorrow
whether i will be in awe or agony.
hushed blanket has fallen over the house at this hour
except for the gentle hum of electricity within me and from above.
why are you walking so hastily ? have you somewhere to be ?
perhaps comfort is not a destination which resides in a temporary soul for the moment.
i must seek solace within myself.
rebounds are denial disguised as comfort
yan Dec 2020
when you drown, i swim
my guilt does not know where to begin.
you mustn't try anymore
there is no use trying to open my closed door.
i want you to move on too
yan Nov 2020
to watch the life drain from your hazel windows made my stomach churn. to see the pain knit your brows together made my throat close up. to hear the slight quiver in your voice made my chest pour.
but i wouldn't have it any other way.
saplings cannot forever remain bound to wooden poles; they must grow on their own and stand tall, grazing the sky.
to let you go, to leave you.
or to stay and lie till the inevitable demise
of what we were never meant to be.
bittersweet, your lips on mine for one last time. to hold you close and to feel your fingers in my hair
you taste the same as the first time i ever tasted you
yet it feels so different
as though the candle had burned through all its wick despite wax remnants begging to be burnt.
and as i walk away, i can confirm
indeed over time, i'd fallen the wrong way.
yan Nov 2020
my chest a bottomless pit, i wonder if it's worthwhile anymore.
but the grass stains on my dress make me smile shyly, thinking of your sapphire eyes so blue;
so intimidatingly beautiful, i could barely hold your gaze for more than two seconds.
yet i pushed for three and i'm glad i did; i saw the black circle in the middle invade more of your blue space and your cheeks turned a soft pink, head downturned, wavy brown hair falling across your forehead.  
a month old memory which i attempted to dull with substances
while it remains vivid and intact as though it happened just yesterday.
i fear the power you have over me; when my phone sounds my hopes rise like a tide in the storm
and comes crashing down when it's not your name.
i'd like to see you again, may i see your sapphire eyes ?
yan Nov 2020
what is the point of opening the cage if the bird's wings are clipped?
you say she is free but at what cost?
she is flailing her wings about, struggling to take flight.
Begged for the cage door to be open - fought and it happened.
She set herself free.
But wings do not allow her to fly.
She is chained by gravity, denied the privilege to kiss the sky;
whom she pleases.
She's out, she roams.
But flight she cannot take for she is confined in a cold, long hallway.
Up and down in
straight lines is allowed.
But flight with other birds beyond that hallway appears a distant memory, long forgotten, lines blurring,
feathers fading
yan Jul 2020
the feeling of struggling
for months
from inner turmoil
chained to a system
the wrong cogs being turned in my head grinding, sparking, creating embers of declining mental state.
But at last, i’m met with a break and a relief from long lived writer’s block.
while fatigue clings at the skin under my eyes, leaving bruises of sleepless nights and tireless structured writing.
i struggle
but it feels as though the cocoon which kept me captive for so long is sliding away from me
and i’m regaining strength to fight free
perhaps this opportunity to write is not because i’m tired
perhaps it’s allowed me to breathe
yan May 2020
i am an apple rotting from the core,
my shiny skin disguising my bruised insides.
the branch at the top of my head is being twisted off;
a, b, c, d.
pick a name.
smog thought of death comes to mind.
take a bite of me;
feel my sweet happiness ooze with every clench of the jaw.
but get to the spoiled bit
and toss me away.
leave me to rot and dry.
i'm here for a good time, not a long time.
and i don't deserve the pity and praise for the artistry at 27.
so i shall leave the party at my 28th hour.
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