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Jan 2014 · 663
pov
iridescent Jan 2014
pov
i can't abide the salt waters on the isles
or the dead flowers on the altar
tell them to stop crying
it's a farewell party
something celebratory

don't let them lay me down in cold dirt
break into my hearse and fly me down a cliff
you do not have to worry
the setting sun will catch me

i just hope,
when you look up at the sky
it reminds you of me.
Jan 2014 · 338
Untitled
iridescent Jan 2014
They say the sense of hearing
is the last to leave,
I hope you are louder than
my demons' screams.
Jan 2014 · 784
empty
iridescent Jan 2014
the worst feeling is when you can't feel a thing. you desperately search for names that they call for the emptiness in your being, but you can't find any. then somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice reminds you that your lungs were void of emptiness; your lung's emptier than empty. there's not even air, and you can't breathe, but you're not furious, you're not upset, you're not even afraid, but you know you're won't be okay. and you can hear your heart, as if it's singing a tune. but it's nothing like those soft melodies your mother hummed while trying to lull you to sleep. it's not the high pitch whimpers you hear in never-ending tunnels either. in fact, it's worse than that. it's just a flat tune, as if the notes were awfully written on a horizontal line. the line that looked like the green display that attaches itself to a critically ill patient, the one that steadily beeps and jumps up and down as if rejoicing for the demise of someone. and it goes all happy and screams at the top of it's mechanical lungs: one long beep. and then the patient's gone. no really, actually you are gone, and no one seemed to be able to save you. you can't feel a thing no matter what you do. defibrillators might bring a pulse back for the patient. no don't get too hopeful, it won't for you, nothing will work on you. overdosing on feelings have already got your body immune. i bet on the red unfeeling machine in my chest, that no course of electricity could ever get the nerves in your brain to connect to the channel that teaches you how to feel. even if you crack your skull open, you probably wouldn't find it. and it's a terrible terrible thing, to not be able to feel. you don't really feel alive at all. so tell me, do you really long for the feeling to not feel a thing? because i did. and i wonder why i did.
an old thing i wrote. i'm currently clearing my writings on my phone.
Jan 2014 · 649
a letter to my friend
iridescent Jan 2014
Dear friend,

Is this what they call reading between the lines, as I desperately searched for signs that show I do not mean as much to you as you claimed me to?

Distance is a brutal thing, it stabbed us in the chest without a warning and as our hearts that used to lie so close starts drifting further apart, I cannot believe you still think i'm next to you. I am sorry for scratching at the letter you sent, I thought the lines might fall and the letters will rearrange into something I know. Were you writing to me at all? Your words do not speak to me anymore.

A few months ago, you were thrashing in your tears. You grabbed everything that could keep you afloat. I am terribly sorry, because I knew I became your everything. Today, you tried to find the pieces that you never saw me drop. I never said I wanted them back. What if I told you I never want to be whole again?

The road is warped and there is no way I could find my way back to you. Do not attempt to direct me when you never wore my shoes; do not say the stars shine for us when you were free from these sickening walls that exists only in my mind. I am sorry to hear you have paved the ground for us, for I will destroy what I set foot on. You should know I never had a home, and you have to see that we will part someday.

Quit believing in me because i remember how it feels when i realised all that i believed in was nothing near the truth-I will never allow you to compare me to the sun again, for it sets so steadily while i walk in halting footsteps; when it fades beneath the horizon, I am afraid you won't be able to cope with the cold that the night brings. It scares me, when you said I was your everything. Please, hold on to something real, that nothing and no one can take from you.

Do not pin all your hopes on me. I am not as strong as you.
Jan 2014 · 1.2k
the epitome of time
iridescent Jan 2014
i woke in an asylum ward.

the skies were replaced by tainted walls
and the sun, by a menace clock
the second hand clicked its tongue
60 fifes and the minute hand waves
every hour, a blade-like hand
drags my knees across the polished floor
and i wonder why they bothered
paving the ground for me
when my skin only tore like glass
flesh exposed and the doctors do not see

my fingers hurt from the hands i hold
but i can't let go.
what if i run out of time?

the smell of chemicals overpowers
the scent of flowers
the epitome of time was the wilting
as i am dragged out of sight

they say time will tell
but all i hear is the hollow echoes
of sharpened clockworks
i fear a wrong move will throw the sparks
into the gas tank that we drink from

my name is not on this bracelet
the doctors draped across my wrist
and if i don't tear these walls apart,
these hands might drag me into a morgue.
Jan 2014 · 1.1k
Destruction
iridescent Jan 2014
No one ever told you about the poet that destroys all around him
so he could breathe the ashes of what he loved.
Broken things can be beautiful.
Don't ever fall in love with him for he will fling you against the wall,
and then write about how you broke him.

Warped mind, he won't remember he's the one that slammed the door.
He won't remember he's the one that sealed the chimney.
He won't remember locking the windows.
He won't remember suffocating.

He won't remember he already died.
iridescent Jan 2014
I am clueless as to how I have dug a hole in this concrete ground, 60 feet deep. The dust I’ve been choking on does not bother me no more, layers piling upon my lungs like snow upon an exposed carcass. The slightest upheaval of my chest and tingling in my lungs reminds me that I still breathe. I’ve met scaffolds of bones down here. As I stare into their hollow sockets, I could never figure if they were ever esurient for something I held. They taught me how the ocean is never blue but only a de facto reflection of the sky. They said many mistook the sea for the sky, but never once mentioned the salt that contaminated their lungs-  the impetus that drove their feet 60 steps into the waves. A reconciliation it must have been. I doubt it made any difference, when their hearts were bleeding out; a pity it doesn’t make it any lighter. Down they sank.

I wonder if I mistook these soils for the sky. As I looked up, I realised that the sky only seemed further away. There’s something peculiarly comfortable down here, the little bumps on the walls and contours of the craters looked like jawlines of a new-found friend. The sun is so blindingly high in the sky. I preferred how sometimes I could see the man in the moon- shadows cast by imperfections on the moon’s surface. In the vague moonlight and scrawny silhouettes, the fact that the moon always has a dark side makes it tangible a thousand miles away. Sometimes, I lay on this wooden receptacle discovered upon excavation and gaze at the empty skies with my friend as he tells me what lies outside this trough. Happiness is a pack of hungry wolves and when they are done, you are left with only your marrows. I see things clearer down here, than above where they are smothered by smoke from the trees they burned to the ground. Sometimes the skies are dark with no hint of dusk, sometimes the sky is filled with white nebula; but most of the times, the days are shorter than the nights. But it never gets any darker down here.

I figured I could never mistake this hole for the sky. I was just chasing these broken pieces like I used to chase happiness. I have no idea how I’ve gotten this deep while trying to pick up these pieces that I don’t recognise. But the struggle tells me it’s real, and the pain keeps me awake. They say if you spend enough time with someone, you will fall in love. I guess that’s what happened between sadness and me.

I’m staying here.
Dec 2013 · 947
a new year log
iridescent Dec 2013
As the moon found its way to the sky, the crowd began to spill in. Chatters about how this will be a new start drowned the screams of a skeptical man, and the extravagant lights towered over the burning stars; we forget that they exist.

I watched the short castle walls and bobbing skulls. How lucky are these children that they have not lost their heads;

for the mannequins had half their head mutilated. It wasn't a pity- they needed no eyes, they didn't have a soul anyway. It's funny how they looked pleasing to the human eyes though. So hauntingly beautiful, like an incomplete work of a deranged artist.

I wonder if they had forgotten to take down the christmas decorations, or if it was newly hung for the new year. The lights seemed to drip down scrawny fingers; the tree must have inhaled rusted air from the killing machines on the road.

I could already picture crowds downtown getting ready for a countdown to nothing meaningful. As they release the fireworks into the skies, it shall catch the undivided attention of wandering eyes. Tired eyes light up at the sight of explosions and the smoke cling so tightly to their skin without them knowing. They're lucky smothered skin doesn't complicate their breathing. Or are they not? At least no one will consider getting under their skin anymore.

5! 4! 3! 2! 1!

oh another night has passed, but why hasn't the sun risen?
Dec 2013 · 614
a gamble
iridescent Dec 2013
some days i dream that you will carry me home
on the once familiar road again
i recalled how you'd wince each time
my knees came in brief contact with your hips
i never knew why
and you'd refuse to put me down
your lips curled into a tight smile
i wondered what lies behind the creases by them

the path beneath my feet seemed to crack
as i carried my heavy lungs back
to this house of cards built from 52 empty promises
where the summer wind burned our only solace into ashes
it carried your skin away but left your bones with me
i took a gamble and i lost it all
all except your hollow bones

the queen had a ***** in her hands
standing in front of our door
but you were supposed to win this war
i had my stakes all on you.

and as my feet got tangled in the cobwebs
i almost mistook them for medusa
prying my eyes open to the hearts we carved in the trees.
"give him back to me! he's mine!" i clawed.

oh but isn't it funny how the scars on the bark remind me of
when i touched your bare hips for the first time in the dark.
Dec 2013 · 972
Things I never told my mum.
iridescent Dec 2013
You could say i have the heart of a miser, but you can't say I do not have one. For it beats in my chest, threatening to sweep this head off my neck with tsunamis of sickening blood. As if i had infinite emotions to gnaw at. My soul seem to be a bottomless pit, eternally craving to be fed. And I never knew how to satisfy it. I seem to be different from the others. Void of emotions. Speaking only to stir trouble, on the sorry excuse of giving myself reasons to feel. I had no clue about the inability to communicate with my mother. We hardly exchange words, and those that escape my tightly sown lips were only to spite her. But they were words from the very end of this bottomless pit, which all sums up to "I lost all I respect".

I've stated in the beginning, I have the heart of a miser; I have not forgotten the words she told me 30 odd days back. If elephants never forget, then I guess I have these ivory tusks made to cut like a hunter's spear on anything that's alive. Cut off anything that's okay. Turn everything that is okay into something that is not. Explosive cars and houses set ablaze are akin to fireworks; the only thing that seems to catch my eyes anymore. And the smoke that lingers smells like a house freshly painted; addictive. That is until they smother my skin. I can't help but cringe at the monster in the mirror. I wasn't like this. I don't know how I've come to this. I don't know why.

The words that mothers say are lessons taught to their children. So i suppose I've learnt that I am a ***** and that I'm better off dead. 30 odd days. Are you proud of me, Mum? I have not forgotten what you taught. Today you screamed. I would like to say the spit that landed on my skin burnt like acid. But truthfully, I don't feel a thing. You asked for the wrong that you've done. You screamed into my face, DO NOT CALL ME YOUR MOTHER. I AM NOT WORTHY, as yours contorted so much I could almost feel something. Mum, I'm not worthy to tell you what you've done wrong for I don't feel a tad sorry for what I turned us into. It was a mistake to give birth to me. I'm not even sure if I missed what we used to have. I can't remember what we had.

I'm sorry if this house ever burns to the ground.

Mum, I wish I wasn't a monster.
Dec 2013 · 1.3k
do you want my heart?
iridescent Dec 2013
how horrifying it must be, if i ever lock you in the chambers of my wretched heart. you might expect the room to be crimson, but it will be ignited by warped blue pipes. lubdub lubdub as they threaten to burst and drown you in the colours of the skies. i imagine the skin by your lips loosen thread by thread before your jaws fall to the ground. how funny it will be when you can't speak after you find out the liquid that should taste salty like deep blue seas, or sweet like blueberries, is bitter like rusty metal knives. you never knew the taste of my blood on your skin, but now you will.

12:00a.m.: chimes of the clock. the walls heal and the blue liquid runs for the drains. everything will be back to normal. you must be confused how the room looks untouched and smell freshly built of bitter paint; well, thank this stubborn heart that heals itself every time it breaks. now count my heartbeats with your trembling fingers, will you?

12:01a.m.: the walls will constrict. this time the ceilings crumble and you shall scream as jagged pieces of debris hit. please remind yourself that those were ounces of my heart. if you look up the hole, you will see a crescent indent on my lungs, as it exhales dying stars. a sharp intake of breath and the nights skies will tumble into what seemed to be a black hole. darkness. you won't be able to see. you can't count my heartbeats anymore. but guess what, it's still beating.

3:30a.m.: blood-thirsty rats. lubdub lubdub. footsteps on the roof. lubdub lubdub; it echoes in the room. the walls start closing in. oh darling, have you ever heard of heart-wrenching stories? blue pipes will grow mouths and voices shall grow limbs. screams, cries, disapproval resonating in your little head. that's what happens in this living chamber; each pump brings disastrous outcome. i'm afraid you might go crazy, from what only goes on in this trifling portion of my soul.

now let me tell you something no one knows- my heart never stops; and my dear, i'm considering to let you in.
iridescent Dec 2013
so darling, sit under this tree
that protected you from the pelting stones
grey skies looming overhead
they can't scare you

you have emerald knights
wish for them to stop you
in the name of needing some thrill
you know the rope wasn't a swing

i see you dug a hole
a void to throw all these memories away
in the shadows of this tree
secrets shall be kept

and as dark clouds loomed by,
branches desperately flailed
keeping out the acids in vain
the waters wrapped itself around you

so darling,
why were you smiling?
you weren't the memory meant to be thrown away.
Dec 2013 · 761
blue eyes
iridescent Dec 2013
those blue eyes
reminded me of the skies,
and in that moment,
i thought i could fly.

those blue eyes
reminded me of warm oceans in summer,
where i thought
it was safe to swim.

but you've decided to shut them
and take back all you gave me.
i never knew
i was heading for an incoming plane
and that i was diving into a whirlpool.

and as i gave up trying to pry open
those hateful skin that kept you away from me,
i realised blue eyes were long carved
into the skies and the sea.

~x.q.
Nov 2013 · 894
made of glass
iridescent Nov 2013
the girl who stood tall had flowers in her hair
she was made of glass
like pure water that refracted iridescent rays
an arch where butterflies danced around

green-eyed creatures clawed
at her precious skin
she was different you see
and it seemed a sin to be

noticeable were
thin lines formed on her torso
and rays now warped and dull
a broken bridge where butterflies danced no more
people paid no heed because she still was whole

relentless rain fell on her fragile skin
as her erratic heart pumped
alongside scattered pitter-patters
that matched the static in her mind

as night left and day arrived
the sun seemed to scorch her frozen form
but the fire was futile in sculpting her
into the crystal-clear glass she used to be

glass beads fell from her lifeless eyes
dissipating as they hit concrete
like the rain drops she'd struggled to save
and her sockets seemed hollowed

she was akin to a worn-out chapel window
that heard selfish prayers echoing within
frosted face, hands chipped in the corners and a weak heart
cracks that could be mistaken as arteries branched throughout her body

it was no surprise when she crumbled from their touch
into jagged forms sharper than broken porcelain vases
the pieces that bounced off the floors played poignant melodies
her screams were finally heard

it was too late when the pieces no longer fit
as bright lights devoured her
within the irretrievable mess were crimson rays
and reflections broken and shaggard

she dug deeper into their skin as they tried to fix her
deeper into their veins and scraping their vessels from within
with the realisation of deeds undoable
they shall beg for their hearts to stop

for the girl made of glass now lay with flowers in her hair
and butterflies dancing over her
but she no longer stands tall.
Sep 2013 · 1.5k
wilted sunset
iridescent Sep 2013
waking up to empty leather seats
they smelt nothing like you, not even near
the blurred vision of the orange skies
is it because of my tears?
the dews that formed on the windscreen
captured sweet memories of you,
your favourite song's playing on the radio
but there's just static in my mind.

those sunflowers we grew together
they're drooping down and brown
just like the sunset i detest now,
wilted without your love.
remember how you joked
about where i will be without you?
i guess i know the answer now,
i'll be here under the skies.
while my soul is nowhere near,
still in search for the same sun
that bloomed when i was in your arms.

the skies are getting dark
the moon, the stars are getting up
it didn't take much to realise
that we are so much the same.
the moon longing for the sun miles away
how i long for you six feet under;
the dead stars shining so brightly
how i smile ever since you brought
a part of me with you to your grave.

i guess i'll shut my eyelids when the days arrive
i'll kiss you in my dreams where you were still alive.
nowadays the sunrise are hideous
people wonder why i never looked at the skies,
the brightness will pierce deep in my skin
while it reminds me of your smile,
and the cuts will drip pools of blood
painting pictures of you.
and while my heart breaks to pieces
you will still stay
because you are safely engraved
in each and one of them.

nothing's the same anymore
and i have become dead,
the beauties of the world
i could no longer see,
i hope you know that all i need now
is for you to hold me near.

please whisper in my ears,
please tell me you are still here.
Sep 2013 · 874
grandfather
iridescent Sep 2013
one day i came across a barren land
i picked up the little weeds and asked,
"were you forsaken because
you could no longer give?"
no one answered.

one night i came across an abandoned castle
i swept my fingers over the layers of dust and asked,
"were you left here in the cold because
the prince and princess forgot to come home?"
no one answered.

today i sat by an old, desolate soul
and his frail voice answered,
"i was forsaken because
i could no longer give.
i was left here in the cold because
my little prince and princess forgot me."

i stayed by him and sighed
i was always here,
i did not forget you grandpa.
and i said,
"i will never forsake you because
you could no longer give.
i will be your little princess
and i will always come home."

~x.q.
Sep 2013 · 557
stardusts
iridescent Sep 2013
if we were made of stardust,
why do we not shine as bright as the stars?
are we dead on the inside,
like the diamonds we see in the skies?
are we darker than the shadows that
it overpowers the light inside of us?
why do we destroy ourselves,
when the stars gave up their lives for us mortals?
Sep 2013 · 791
rain
iridescent Sep 2013
we're just like rain
penetrating the dancing dusts
joining other droplets as one
forming vast oceans and fluvial rivers
some are calm while others make choppy waves

the sun sends rays in our direction
beckoning and urging us
we return to the clouds
travelling places to
rejoin the water bodies
somewhere else this time
and we make homes for creatures
and we reflect the moon and the city lights

some of us rest the tired souls
with our silent but loud pitter patters
some of us flow down the
busy roads and quiet countrysides
some of us collect in lakes
some scribble storms and some paint rainbows

then we return to the clouds once more
and we meet as we fall back to earth
two familiar translucent crystals reflecting each other
and this time we might hide from Sun and Cloud
because we wish to travel on our own
just us
two raindrops
Sep 2013 · 473
doors to your thoughts
iridescent Sep 2013
i tried everything to
lock you out of my mind,
threw away the keys,
begged the voices in my head to shush,
so you'll never be lead in.

but through all the rush,
you never failed to find your way through,
under the creaks and
through the cracks of the door.

you would light my heart into pretty neons
then plunge me into darkness once more,
with the fact that i'll never find my way
to your thoughts through the door.

well, we both know
i'll never get a chance to turn the ****
to your door no matter
how much i hope or try.

i will never cross
y o u r      m i n d
Aug 2013 · 617
the waves and the wind
iridescent Aug 2013
people say the waves
kisses the beach
people say the wind
carasses the shore

but all the waves
did were to bring
away loose gravel
each time it hits coast.

and all the wind did
was to whisper sweet
nothings while stealing
the fine, white sand.

they suffocated the
corals out at sea
and stripped the
beauty off the place.
Aug 2013 · 898
demons
iridescent Aug 2013
a blinding car light,
will this be the end?
(now i can finally leave this hell)
closed eyes, opened arms, standing in the rain
i trust my demons they said this would end the pain

a white room
where is this place?
(am i in heaven? i should not be)
throbbing headache, blank mind
staring at the ceiling hovering over my eyes.

a man in white
who is this?
(what the hell am i still alive)
flying fists, bruised knuckles
a jab behind my neck, i fell into a deep slumber.

a thick leather strap tied over me
do they think that i'm crazy?
(those who wants to live are indeed out of their minds)
desperate cries, results of my warped perceptions
and my very best friends smirked at my desperation.

standing in the shadows
is this a trap they had set?
(i trusted them so much i thought they would help)
they inflicted pain and led me to another hell
but it's okay, everyone i knew never meant me well.
Aug 2013 · 775
bit by bit by bit by bit
iridescent Aug 2013
she begged for her heart to stop
pumping tainted, toxic blood
that's taking over her entire being

but she couldn't stab her heart so
she slit her wrist to watch the blood drain
bit by bit by bit by bit

she hoped that the filth would rid
letting them out but
it was just too much

and she wouldn't stab her heart but
thin lines are forming, breaking her
bit by bit by bit by bit

she is taking this no more
staring at the cracks in the ceiling
wishing for the shadows to take her away

and she didn't stab her heart but
her soul is leaking through the holes
bit by bit by bit by bit

she is drifting into the
deep sinister forest
wrapped in the mist

she hadn't stab her heart but
she's already dead and tears did not fall
bit by bit by bit by bit
Aug 2013 · 698
mirror
iridescent Aug 2013
she looks at the mirror
recognizing the monster within
messy hair
swollen eyes
she broke into a smile
reaching out for its hands

she looks at the mirror
she loved the monster within
messy thoughts
swollen heart
she punched the mirror
watching it crumble before her

she looks at the mirror
did she destroy the monster within?
messy room
swollen feet
she steps on the glass
trampling its soul

she looks at the mirror
crooked smile within the puddle of crimson mess
but little did she know
the monster and her has merged as one
like how her blood stained the mirror

— The End —