Dear reader,

This is not a poem. This is not a letter. This is not really much of anything, for that matter. I hope you'll continue reading because it kind of helps knowing that someone somewhere out there is reading what I'm going to say next. I just hope you, my dear reader can benefit from my story.

It's merely 3.41AM and I am feeling empty. It's not the kind of emptiness that overwhelms you in tsunamis of water, neither is it splashes of water. It just didn't seem to have a place, it wasn't really anywhere, it was kinda just there. Haunting me.

I had just finished my O level examinations, and where I come from, it's one of the most major exams in my life. It determined my future. So like any other schooling teenager in this country, I studied for it. Not just the kind of studying where you listen in class or read the textbook and do your homework. The kind of study where I could go on without sleep for days or taking shot after shot of expresso just to keep myself going or regurgitating word for word an entire essay. All because I knew how important this was to me and my family and my future. Every day of the week was dedicated towards memorizing, every minute of the day was devoted towards practicing, and every second of the minute was committed towards reading. Basically, every millisecond was crucial. And this was something I abided by religiously. But despite my efforts, I was still struggling. I simply couldn't do well. And when you put your heart and soul into something and it just doesn't go how it's supposed to, you get really broken, destroyed. You never know what went wrong and you question many things about yourself and you start running in circles, thinking and digging. The failure I was faced with consumed me with defeatism and self hate. I broke down more often than I should as the days to my exam drew closer, and I grew more anxious and scared. So ******* scared of the future.

Bear with me, please.

Anyway, the week of my exams came quickly. Despite my efforts to slow down time, time had done just the opposite. It was the most painful and suffocating weeks of my life. And although I am one to say that lightly, this easily took the crown. I have never, ever in my life felt this close off the ledge. And there were many times were I have came very close off the ledge. My exams lasted for around 3 weeks, and each morning I had to have at least a triple shot expresso and each night I before I went to sleep, there would be these images and thoughts telling me that I didn't deserved to sleep and I shouldn't even think about it. But when I did catch some sleep, the constant fears in my day had took over my nights. I would always dream about failing the exam, or being late for the exam, or forgetting to bring something to the exam, or killing myself before the exam. It was impossibly horrible and I could actually feel my soul getting depleted by the minute. Like the 'me' in my body was slipping away and there would soon be nothing harboring my body. I often find myself crying to sleep, and waking up in tears. I couldn't stand being so weak and vulnerable, but I felt absolutely defenseless against everything around me. Even the ones that loved me couldn't make me feel human, I felt like I was already dead and my body was still alive. I felt like I was constantly suffocating and nobody could see it. Each day felt so purposeless, ironically. (It being my exams week) Waking up each and every day was draining and having to face my eminent fate was painful. A physical kind of pain where you felt lightheaded and spinning but yet caged and choked. It's hard to describe.

So, it isn't hard to tell that I wasn't in the right state of mind to take my exams. I just dragged myself through those past couple of weeks, doing what I could. Each breath felt labored and each thought in my head wore me down greatly. I broke down frequently before my papers, and there would always be this couple of schoolmates who say things like "You'll do fine, stop worrying." Or "Just do your best. Whatever will be, will be." My parents would even try to tell me to take it easy and "We'll be proud as long as you've tried your best." I know that they mean well. But no, you don't understand. I have worked too ******* long and too ******* hard to watch it all slip away from me just like that. It isn't just some national exam I have to study for, it was my godforsaken passport for the future. All that I have done for this exam, all that I have forsaken, all that I have gone through was for myself. It was the dedication of every ounce of strength that I had so that I could let myself believe that hope existed. And I had just watched it being snatched away from me, right before my own sunken in, swollen eyes. And it hurt like hell knowing that I've tried my best for it, and it is a reflection of what I've worked for. Nobody's going to look at C's and D's and see the reflection of an "overnight mugger", they'll see what comes to mind first: a lazy, complacent teen. And as the saying goes, "The lie, if repeated a hundred times, becomes the truth." All my hard work will be forgotten. And it will be like it never existed before.

Maybe some might think that all this is stupid. All this I go through for one exam, I know many of my schoolmates think that way. But the complex feelings that I experience for this exam isn't just because of my future. My life depends more than it should on this exam because it will prove to me that I am not a failure and I am not as stupid as I think I am. I want to know where my best truly is and where I stand. Because I have never worked for anything in my life but this exam has been the great exception. It was the key driving force of my life, it was what wore me down and spurred me on at the same time. I don't want people to tell me that I am capable and that I am smart, because I will never believe you. I need this exam to show me that I am capable and I am smart. I want to believe it too.

So I lie in bed at 4.17AM now feeling so afraid of the future. And I used to be the kid that depended on the prospect of a better day. I have yet to meet my impending doom, and if you are wondering, I collect my results next year in January. So now, I am lost and alone. And empty.

Thank you if you've read this far, I just hope that you, my dear reader, if you've ever felt useless, or not good enough or you're just hurting, know that you are not alone and there is someone that knows how you feel. I would tell you to be strong, but only you can do that for yourself. Just hang in there.

k.m.

You fumble with the cigarette
It is carelessly balanced between your index and *******
Like how you see in the movies
You hesitantly tapped it on the corner of the ashtray

You forced a confident smile
Coughed uncontrollably
Claimed it was a flu
But knew it was not

You poured too much ***** into your glass
And you gulped it bottoms up
You suppressed a look of disgust
And said it was good

You asked for another glass
Even though you were tipsy
And could not stand still

The white smoke
and false strawberry scent filled the room
You saw the bubbles
and the burning charcoal
We were blowing rings
and imitating dragons
You asked for a go
We couldn't say no
You swallowed the gas whole
You choked
you gagged
But said it felt good
And tasted strawberries

You couldn't wait for your turn again
Even though you couldn't breathe
without clearing your throat

You weren't enjoying yourself
But I guess everyone already knew

But beneath the bloodshot eyes
Frequent retching
Croaking throat
I saw a boy
that just wanted to belong

k.m.

Everyone was somewhere else after 3AM
and the world seemed to fall into a fascinating silence

I was alone with my mind
There was nothing and no one that could interrupt the journey of my thoughts
I could feel the thin, gentle breeze flutter playfully along the back of my neck
The sounds of creaking floorboards and rustling leaves dominated

My mind was clearer after 3AM
Although I was drunk with fatigue
My mind and thoughts were intact

I could feel and hear the universe working at 3AM
Even though I could not see it at all
It had made me realize how beautiful the world truly was
after 3AM

But its raw resplendence was only evident
beneath the bustle of the crowds
and the panic in the streets
And that was only after 3AM

k.m.

I flip the switch
As the electricity flows through the wires
Giving life to my two fluorescent lights that rest above me

The first fluorescent light is full of life and vigor
Emerging from the darkness like a strong warrior after a ****** war
He is tired and old,
But powerful and dominant
He tears the secrecy of the night with his sharp, searing light

The second fluorescent light flickers, blinks, wavers
She is unsure and afraid of showing her light
Her light is impending and hidden, behind her glass face it has not been revealed
Wrinkled and exhausted,
She is stuck in deliberation and reluctance

The fluorescent lights are no different
Therefore as I sit and watch the second fluorescent light as she is stuck in her own self-created inability,
I wonder
Why doesn't she break free from the prison that she has locked herself in?

k.m.

Don't let them take the life flowing through your stalk
Your leaves have curled in desperation for life
Your once sunny petals, stripped of their radiant glow
Replaced with a shriveled, barren, dangling corpse
Your branch is drooping lifelessly by the edge of the vase
I am told that you have become an eyesore
A bore, a chore
Because you no longer possess that charm you used to have
The life, that ran through your veins and sprung you into a beauty,
was no longer there

And it pains me to say this but,
you are no longer beautiful, my little sunflower
You have let time and the harsh ways of the universe
divest your once enchanting and enticing glimmer

You are still alive
But you are already dead

Amidst all the madness and panic that surrounded
I squander to my sanctuary
In hope to escape reality
Even if it was just for a bit

I slam the door shut behind me
To rest my exhausted body and soul
on the toilet bowl
And gave a sigh of relief
It was good to finally get away
Even if it was just for a bit

The frustrations and anxieties of the day
Gave way in a liquid form
So I say
"Please God, cleanse me of my darkness,
take away my pain,
end me of my misery."
I was not a Christian
Nor did I have a religion of any sort
I just needed everything to stop
But this time, for more than a bit.

k.m.

I took a final glance at you
And realized
That I've wasted far too much time
Trying to write poetry
That could be
As
Beautiful
As
You

k.m.

When you think of her
There was a twinkling sadness in your dulled eyes
How your eyes would light up
And like a mosquito lamp amidst a fog,
Its light was hindered beneath layers of gloom

Your exhausted smile would crunch gently to a side
And you'd let out an unamused chuckle
Probably at what a fool you've been
(A fool for her)

And every time that stupid Maroon 5 song plays
There would be a consuming emptiness in your stare
A hollowness, even.
A hole in your heart
That was hers to fill

Not mine
Not mine
Not mine
And never could be mine

It was no longer a brand new day
But rather, just another day.
She no longer basked her olive skin in the sunlight
Even though the sun still shone as bright.

It wasn't that anything had changed
Because nothing had at all
She had grown wary of the morning light
She never liked it like before.

Instead, she distanced herself from the sun
And all else that she loved,
She had always been a loner
But she had never felt so alone

Soon enough she became a walking paradox;
The disturbing balance of wanting to be less lonely
and wanting to be alone
And also how she wanted to tell somebody
and wanting to tell no one at all
But most of all
It was how she wanted to **** herself
and wanting to live a little more.

However, that balance was going to go off
And she knew which side would be hers to go
after all.

k.m.

It's 11.51pm
and I'm wondering if you were sound asleep
I dismissed the sweet thought of you and rolled over

It's 1.23am
and I'm wondering if you had reached slumber land peacefully
I suppressed the enticing thought of you and buried my face in the pillow

It's 4.57am
and I'm wondering about how effulgent you would look when you were asleep
I had been overrun by divine thoughts of you
and I could no longer sweep it aside
But it was also because I welcomed with open arms the thoughts I had about you.

k.m.

You give me so much to write about










But I always end up
At a loss for words

k.m.

I watch behind afternoon pipe smoke
Gasoline rainbows on asphalt walkways

They are a congregation of black and white
Praying to a god They do not hate
Like the brown wings of a moth between fingers
Heads lowered; eyes to the ground
Too busy with making a living
To live a life

Shadow masks like spilled, old ink
Cheap polyester on hot flesh
Their blood burns with youthful regret
and midnight mistakes
Without spines of Their own
They are still the nation’s backbone

I am a stone that cuts through rivers
But smoke gathers dust around my eyes