Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2016 · 273
Untitled
Kris Jun 2016
do you ever have moments when
you see people who are better than you
whose works move you so much
that the only thing you can do is to
sit in silence and contemplate
and cry
May 2016 · 546
f a m i l y
Kris May 2016
When the most encouraging words fall
from between the lips of those whose friendships are transient
it's pretty **** confusing

When the most hurtful words lash out,
barbs on a tongue from the people who are supposed to love you
you live your world upside down
without even realising

You walk down streets with the signs
written backwards
intentions muddled and hidden from sight

You pace rooms, with windows that stretch
from the ceiling to the floor, doors shorter than a toddler
seeing everything with no way out

Seeing everything that other people have
and you don't
seeing things that could've been so simple
yet too complicated to obtain

Wanting things that aren't yours but could've been

If only everyone put in a little more effort
if only everyone put their pride away
if only everyone could accept that this family
has fallen
a p a r t

and that the time to fix it
has long passed
it's miscommunication that tore us apart, not ill intent, not hatred
Apr 2016 · 467
blind
Kris Apr 2016
it's only after you leave
that I start to see you everywhere

I see you in the empty cups
hanging on the stand
I see you in the toothbrush
stiff from neglect
the ukulele you used to play
and the books that you read

I see you in the empty chairs
at the dinner table
I see you in the sunset
that we used to watch together
the ****** TV shows
that you watched and cried over

on hot humid summer days,
I sit and reminisce
what could've been
and what will never be

if this is what it's like to see
I wish it happened sooner
it seems that I was blind
when you were here
I watched a sad movie. pardon my sappiness
Mar 2016 · 229
Untitled
Kris Mar 2016
and I couldn't help but feel ice slowly gripping my heart
when you said
"i love her more than you,"
and this has been a fact that i've known for eons but
it still hurt to hear it from you

the person we once spent so much time together with
the one with whom we broke off from and
the person who we have now forgiven (or have I?) and
welcomed back amongst our ranks
this calls for a celebration so why
why am I so reluctant to celebrate and why am I so scared?
Dec 2015 · 1.2k
defense mechanism
Kris Dec 2015
maybe turn your back
on the glaring light of day
these things could wreck
your mind and make it fray

bile and venom line your lips
a wall you throw up with your tongue
spit it out, make a rip
in the world that stung
before anyone gets too close
Dec 2015 · 277
it's mental health week
Kris Dec 2015
how are you?
have you been eating?
have you been feeling alright?

ever since that quiet night you turned your back
a silhouette i will never forget
contact with you has been strained
laced with anger and awkwardness
unspoken accusations that turn the taste
of all your food bitter
no wonder you haven't been eating

i'm so sorry that i wasn't stronger
that i couldn't protect you
i'm sorry for making that promise
that i would never leave you
because like the ******* that you've met before
that day of 1.02am, i happened
to take my leave
slowly slipping into the night
opposite of the direction you took
in seek of the sun
while you, delved deeper into the forest

you look tired
you look tried
you look like you could take a pill or two
don't
don't do it.
you've been strong thus far
don't let it win again.

throw your bottles away
pick up your phone
call him to your side
in the end he's the only one
right now who will be there
for you because i left you
i'm so sorry i left you
i really am so ******* sorry i wasn't strong enough to stay beside you.
Nov 2015 · 493
detached
Kris Nov 2015
war is
behind glass
a silver screen
composed of pixels

war is
in movies
muted bombs,
a silent scream

war is
a newsflash
on twitter,
about a country
far, far away

war is
insignificant
easily dismissed

for us.

but for them,

war is losing everyone they love
war is hiding with bated breath
war is a constant ache in their bellies
war is a bleeding throat
war is not being able to protect
war is breathing dust tinged with dried blood

it's not knowing whether the person in front of them will see tomorrow
it's the feeling of ruin when they see their house go up in smoke
it's the taste of blood when they bite their tongue to stop from screaming

war is praying to be able to see the sun rise again the next day

war is not a silver screen
not pixels dancing
not a link on their newsfeed

war is real.
Nov 2015 · 241
Untitled
Kris Nov 2015
the summer she turned 21,
she met him for the first time

with his promises of new
beginnings and sanctuaries
that she had always dreamed
of, it was no wonder she was
****** in so quickly
enamoured by all that he was

oh she had flirted with him
so many times before,
when times seemed bleak
he was always her release
in her search for something
new

so many told her
"leave him behind," for he
was bad news. they disliked
his promises, veiled with
consequences black as
midnight, black as the shawl
she wore to her father's funeral

but he was tempting
yes, he was, with eyes
that beckoned, carefully
allowing her a glimpse
of the galaxies behind them
dark galaxies that ******
her soul right into them

so she relented, allowing
herself to be drawn in
finally sinking into
his arms, sighing against
his cold unmoving chest
his stiff arms and his
lifeless eyes

the summer she turned 22,
they found her smiling
in the arms of death
please don't **** yourself, you have people who love you. you have people who want to be there for you. just look around and reach out for one of them. i know you're afraid. don't be. we want to be there for you. we're sorry we didn't know you were hurting. we love you. please don't ever, ever **** yourself.
Oct 2015 · 194
Untitled
Kris Oct 2015
this isn't the first time i've ****** up and this won't be the last time i **** up
but that won't stop me from feeling incredibly ****** everytime something like this happens
because i know
that it's my fault
and one of the worst feelings out there is breaking someone's trust and not knowing how to put it back together
Oct 2015 · 206
i don't live
Kris Oct 2015
i don't live for the rush of excitement
the fleeting taste of sweetness
or the sharp twinge of my nerves

i don't live for the thought of you
clouding up my head everyday
one more memory away
from seeing you again

i don't live for the bitter moments
that crowd my life
numb, unfeeling events
that make me question myself at night

i don't live for a lot of things
and i don't want to live by your rules
so why do i find myself desperately
so desperately
trying to please you?
what
Oct 2015 · 191
Untitled
Kris Oct 2015
it's confusing, and I often don't know what to make out of it
Maybe I never paid enough attention to these kind of things growing up
Maybe i just **** at telling things
Maybe I just should shut the hell up and stop jumping to conclusions that shouldn't affect me even if they were true
Sep 2015 · 258
the bud that never bloomed
Kris Sep 2015
it's been a while since i've seen you, and it's also been a while since i've thought about you
it feels like when you were away thoughts of you just seemed to slowly fade, although the words never did
but how funny is it that one day back, i meet up with you and suddenly everything comes rushing back
and it's somewhat confusing and overwhelming at the same time

but you know what it's okay
i won't be with you anyway
because i'm not the one for you
and you are definitely not the one for me
and maybe this attraction thing is normal for people who will never be
even though it's frustrating
even though hope may sometimes bud
it will never take root and grow into
something solid
substantial
real

i'm okay with it because being around you is enough for me
your mind is what i love,
and admiring it from afar is more than anything i could ever ask for
thank you for being my friend
and thank you for being the one to make me feel
i've been numb for long enough
Sep 2015 · 281
Untitled
Kris Sep 2015
i really ******* hate it when i pick up the last slice of pizza and you make a sound of alarm
as if the idea of me ingesting another slice would be the last straw,
and i would balloon up into an obese monster

i really ******* hate it that you say, "i only had one slice of pizza,"
as if because i've eaten a slice more than you means that i'm a ******* pig

i really ******* hate it how you didn't even notice that i didn't eat anything else apart from that
you had a hugeass bowl of pasta and pizza and you still made me feel like trash, like i ate mountains more than you did, when i only had 2 slices

i really ******* hate how you made me have issues with myself
not really a poem
just a majorly ******* rant
Aug 2015 · 1.0k
numbers
Kris Aug 2015
it's 2.32am and i'm sitting alone in my room cramming advert notes into my brain for the exam barely 12 hours away
i can't remember anything, but it doesn't matter. i'll cram anyway, since it's the only thing i can do now
i've cracked open a fresh can of redbull for this ****, and i'll take it one step at a time
the raw panic when i thought about having to remodule was stark and completely gripping just a couple of hours ago
now, i have reached this zen-like calm and i'm not quite sure whether to be worried that i'm being distracted by the thin girls i see on tumblr

my stomach growls. i ignore it. it's far too late to eat. the can of redbull i'm having is already 159.75 calories
159.75 calories too many
i have never been good with numbers, i once scored 0/65 for a math test 2 months before my gce o levels
but for this, i will count
i will count like how ebenezer scrooge did. with great precision and scrutiny
i was never good enough for you. i never will be. but if there's something i can control in my life, i will make it this

less is more,
and i, will always be too much.
advertising exam at 3pm :')
Aug 2015 · 520
Untitled
Kris Aug 2015
loving someone with mental issues isn't poetic, or romantic
hell, it's the opposite of that. it's running down to her house at 1.02am in the morning wondering whether she's still breathing
it's anxious crying when she won't text you back because you don't know whether you've lost her
over the slightest smallest things
in everyday things you start to see the things that trigger her
you look out for them
so that you can steer her away
when she doesn't talk to you
you panic because you don't know how she's doing how she's faring whether she's okay whether she's going to be okay from then on.
loving someone with mental illnesses is not easy
it gets tiring

so stop romanticising it.
i see things everywhere on tumblr, on social media,
images full of soft greys and inky blacks
paragraphs that romanticise these things
these ugly things that no one should ever want to feel
are being preached to the public as

'deep'
'mysterious'
'alluring'

*******.

stop doing this stop doing this it's wrong it's so wrong it needs to stop
think about your friend
dying inside, then choosing to die for real
because of these things
are these things really beauiful????
ARE THEY????
NO.
THEY'RE ******* HORRENDOUS.
SO
STOP. ROMANTICISING. MENTAL ILLNESSES.

thank you.
Aug 2015 · 218
blocked
Kris Aug 2015
i thought you trusted us. i thought you decided to let us in after so long. and i know that it's not really your fault, that's it's the work of your illnesses. but i can't help but be affected. by the way you suddenly decided to leave us out of your life.

what did i do to you? apart from coming to meet you when you were down, when you were in pieces. comforting you and being there for you. and even though i know that by blocking so many people you hoped to cover up your tracks, and that you didn't mean to hurt me, it still hurts in the end.
Aug 2015 · 1000
letter to my parents
Kris Aug 2015
dear mum,
i don't know when we drifted apart. it was probably eons ago when i was 7 or 8. ten years down the road and we haven't gotten any closer. do i regret not spending more time with you? not really.

i haven't been the best child. i've lied. a lot. i've broken your heart. a lot. and i've done things that you've told me not to. a lot.

i've learnt many things from you.

i've learnt to treat people the way you want to be treated. i've learnt to be sensitive of other people's feelings. and i've learnt to be kind. from you i have learnt how to care and be selfless. from you, i have learnt how to be a good person.

but i have learnt not so good things from you as well.

i've learnt to stay out of things because it's too tiring to get involved. i've learnt never to stand up for my future child when my husband is calling her useless trash. i've learnt that lying is the only way i'll ever be able to do what i want. i've learnt that if i ever want to divorce i should do it instead of hanging on for more than a decade and feeling miserable, the way you did. and still are doing.

i've learnt that the way to raise a child, is to provide for them physically then not to give a **** about their feelings.

love,
your unfilial daughter


hello dad,
it's been a while since i've ever felt any affection towards you. i think it ended the moment you started calling me idiot and useless trash. and when you ripped my dreams into shreds and forced me into the academic school of your choice.

i love how we cannot get along together without arguing at least twice a week. i love how you call me fat and compare me to my friends. i love how you have never praised me ever since i was 9 years old.

i love how you think that i still love you, when i don't.

in some twisted way you say that you love me, yet you continue to make me feel like the dirt on the bottom of your shoes. i love how you have never put 2 and 2 together to realise that the main reason why i'm always out of the house is so that i don't have to see you.

i love how dense you are. i absolutely, absolutely love how you told me my dreams are useless. i adore how you take out your anger on me, and how you never say sorry. and how you think that fat jokes are just jokes and that your insults are not hurtful.

i love how you think that with parental status, you can overwrite anything your child thinks. i love how you have taught me that the moment i become a parent, my child must do whatever i say and that i am always right, because parents set the rules. parents are gods.

you have taught me well.

-your useless trash of a daughter
Aug 2015 · 847
1.02am
Kris Aug 2015
i remember you saying small things
so small
they could've gone unnoticed
by so many people

"i should just die right now,"
you said
and people laughed
and said
"me, too,"

i remember my heart
skipping a beat
when i saw
the darkness
underlying your words
and the grey
colouring your tone

i remember smiling
and laughing it off
because i knew
you didn't want to talk about it
but my mind
was racing
racing to stop
the clouds from taking over you

racing racing r a c i n g

but not fast enough

i remember my heart stopping
when i saw
the pills
1
2
3
...
... ...
32

all gone
down your throat

i remember crying on the phone
for the first time in a long time
to someone else
begging
begging them to go over
and check on you

i remember cabbing down
at 1.02am
not quite sure
how to feel

i remember you throwing up
28
4 left in you

thank god thank god t h a n k  g o d

i remember that night
being a night
full of morbid jokes
because you didn't know how else to cope

i remember laying beside you
3 people on a thin mattress meant for 2
but neither of us cared
because you were breathing between us

i remember you
a year ago
saying that people never stay with you
can i be your constant?
can i be the friend to stick by you?

i remember so many things
about you
and
i never want to see the day
where the only way i can see you
is to remember you
Jul 2015 · 414
i'm a fucking mess
Kris Jul 2015
it’s like when all you want to do is be happy and get through life being happy and old memories kick you in the gut so hard that all you can think of is leaving the country and never coming back.

never coming back to the faces that will only remind me of what can never be undone never coming back to face the facts never coming back to trauma to regret and to shame shame and more shame

and the worst feeling is knowing that no one will ever understand and always being too afraid to tell anyone and will anyone ever be trustworthy enough to be able to keep my secrets or will this go to the grave with me and die there

no justice nothing but blood and dirt and the pain in my eyes and-

it’s unfair when you have a good night and then the night turns sour in the blink of an eye and suddenly you’re not basking in warmth but drowning in cold loneliness and icy guilt and dirt and dirt and so much dirt and i can’t breathe and i will never trust anyone enough

and it’s okay being alone is okay i’m okay will be okay take a deep breath will be okay life will be okay it’s over and i can forget this i will be okay even if i’m not i have to be okay
but even now i'm not sure whether i'll be okay or whether i'm just trying to lie to myself to make it all better.
i thought i forgave and forgot, but apparently not and things are just barreling back at me stronger than before and i can't take this anymore
Jun 2015 · 5.5k
crush
Kris Jun 2015
it is cold seeping in my bones
and hot air on a summer's day
it is warm excitement and carefully calculated disinterest:
all at the same time

it is confusion,
joy and resignation,
mixed together in a melting ***
made of the last rays of hope filtering in
this is what i imagine a crush would feel like
Jun 2015 · 460
shaping
Kris Jun 2015
I like cracking the spines of books and smelling the mustiness in its pages. I like how the lines run down the leather binding when I bend it backwards. I like how it falls open to a certain page when I flip it open, highlighting my favourite passages.

It's like I shaped this book. This object here, was influenced by me. And if I'm not able to make a big impact in this world than at least I know that I've changed something from the creases left in the covers and wrinkles in the papers.
May 2015 · 374
please don't
Kris May 2015
yesterday, I watched, as you fell apart
bit by bit,
emotions aching in the scars found on my ankles and your wrists
yesterday, I listened, when she told me that she had her mother's freckles,
and she closed her hand around the phantom grip of someone
who had already left
yesterday, I couldn't breathe, while I lay in bed,
thinking of people who didn't deserve all the hurt that they were feeling
yesterday, I was a useless friend
who couldn't be there
for anyone because I
wasn't strong enough

today, you texted me
saying that you're no longer clean
and I broke inside
because I was so afraid that one day
the hospital halls you walked the other day
would become the halls that I would walk
if you let the pain consume you

I asked you to be strong
I asked you to promise me to never
make my nightmare come true
but you couldn't.
I'm terrified for my friends help pls help plshelpmeimsoafraid
May 2015 · 356
fragile.
Kris May 2015
i was frozen in fear that i had broken your trust, and that the number of times i said sorry wouldn't be enough even though you said it was okay
i did something i shouldn't have today
Mar 2015 · 408
nights like these
Kris Mar 2015
and it’s on nights like these when hope seems futile, when the air seems heavy and the weight of everything sits on me like I can’t breathe without imploding. when I walked alone in the dark and the warm yellow glow from the street lamps illuminated my every step and I took solace in the little lizard staring at me from its perch on the wall. my movements become sluggish and all of a sudden I seem to lose patience and passion for everything because there’s absolutely nothing I can do about things that are set for failure, and the night air seems sticky with apprehension and my fingers itch to dig into something. to scratch something out with permanence to see actual, solid results.

and it’s on nights like these when I find my thoughts drifting into darker streets, with every doubt clouding my path. when even friends and happy memories seem more like distant street lamps that manage to cast more shadows than bring light. when I find solace in being anonymous in crowds, bearing the curious stares of people who will never know me. on nights like these, the wind blows hot and cold at the same time, and I stare at regrets carved into skin. and all of a sudden, I find myself adding on to a marred canvas and it’s infinitely more comforting and stuffed full of guilt at the same time.

and it’s on nights like these, when I just crawl into bed quietly and end the day with a whimper.
Mar 2015 · 447
sculpture
Kris Mar 2015
my nose tastes sour
and my tears feel hot
when will i
stop carving
reassurance
into my
skin?
i had a little relapse
Mar 2015 · 507
Untitled
Kris Mar 2015
it's not so bad,
being alone that is
once your mind and soul
has turned numb
your body will follow
and it becomes okay

so when you ask me whether i'm lonely
i guess it would be accurate
for me to say yes and no
but it's okay really
i don't need pity and your useless love
because love doesn't get you through life in the end

you should try it some time
if you ever experience
something painful
come join me
in a shell of your own

we will sing the songs of past times
bright pink tinged with cold blue
and it will stop hurting for you
over time
when you become as numb as me

then you will see
that it's better to be lonely
than to be afraid
Mar 2015 · 424
denial
Kris Mar 2015
and i swear to god that it's nothing really
just a little thought
niggling in the back of my mind
i really ought not to pay attention to it
to let the seed die before it blossoms
rapidly and uncontrollably
bringing undescribable pain and joy
trepidation and sunshine mixed together
in a steel *** simmering over a smouldering fire
but the smallest thing brings out
huge reactions that are uncalled for and in the end i'm still too afraid and too unsure
about everything to address the issue

and so, i swear to god, that it's nothing really
even though my heart breaks a little bit everyday
even as pink touches my cheeks and refuses to leave
even as everything churns in my brain in wild circles

it's nothing, really
Kris Feb 2015
she was caught up with friends
more lively than she
more than charmed,
she tagged along with glee

life was like bubbly champagne
sweet and fizzy
elegance and with a bit of bite
there simply wasn't anything more she could ask for

she was caught up with friends
more daring than she
more than charmed,
she tagged along with glee

adrenaline sweet as a sugar rush
coursing through her veins
she closed her eyes against the wind,
powerful and empty

doubt niggled at her heart
a small worm in an apple
shaking her to the core
perhaps she should stay gone?

she was caught up with friends
more twisted than she
swept up in a whirlwind,
she was no longer free
idek *** i'm writing lol
Feb 2015 · 649
do you?
Kris Feb 2015
will you still write for me
stories that spin whole new worlds
each character a dew drop
on an intricate web of lies

tell me a story of friendship and love
of bravery and courage
of chivalry that hasn't died
and of loyalty that shines bright

do you still care enough
to write a story for me?
something with starry-eyed princesses
and handsome knights
galloping horses and fearsome dragons

i wonder whether
those dragons get lonely
when they're misunderstood to be the evil
that the gallant knight subdues
what if
the knight was really the one
with a soul black as ash
brandishing a sword that would earn him glory
and a future in which the princess would be enslaved
by his treachery?

unsung stories of rowdy soldiers
creeping nights
and boisterous days
i want to hear them all

will you still write for me
even when i have stopped listening?
will you continue
to strive for a better world
with your words and ink-stained fingers?

do you
still care enough to write?
inspired by Yellowcard's Awakening
Feb 2015 · 651
kinda wanna
Kris Feb 2015
kinda wanna go home and shop mindlessly, let the dull clicking of my mouse be my zen and then regret it when the high wears off

kinda wanna go for a walk that never ends and let my feet bleed through my unlaced sneakers and stain the sidewalk

kinda wanna dye my hair blue, and maybe the colour will turn my fingers into tiny smurfs and make me less boring and more worth noticing

kinda wanna sleep until my brain gets tired of itself and shuts down forever

kinda wanna let go,

but kinda wanna live too
Jan 2015 · 410
contrary
Kris Jan 2015
i am green when i am supposed to be
white and unfeeling

i am blue when i am supposed to be
yellow and calming

i am red when i am supposed to be
lilac and understanding

i can be rather contrary
inappropriate feelings in
appropriate situations

confusion in the form of a human
wandering lost
tripping over thoughts but
maintaining steadiness of pace

naivety and cynicism
rolled into one
what would the resulting dough
become?

baked under high temperatures
melting and moulding
building and dying
creation and destruction

the end product is, of course,
one of epic confusion
with a nasty smell and lovely taste
what are your thoughts,
i'd like to know?
mary mary quite contrary how does your garden grow?
Jan 2015 · 2.9k
you hate love
Kris Jan 2015
you hate love
but you can't hate without love
Jan 2015 · 365
bad news
Kris Jan 2015
when news that you get
isn't something that sings of peachy
breezes and perfumed love
you freeze in horror and
let the cold wash over you

i touched the surface of stilled water
but you refused to stir
even though the ripples
marred your face and
cut straight through your gaze

i cried for you
a wail inside my heart
growing strong like the wind
howling in a winter storm

but the snow
piled atop of you
and weighed you down
with a misery that shouldn't have been yours

helplessness like solid lead
along with trembling fingers
fluttering like
fragile hummingbirds
when i realise that you,
a pillar of support,
have become as vulnerable as them

not just for your sake
but for everyone else
please

be ok
today, someone I've known for a long time was diagnosed with leukaemia.
Jan 2015 · 488
if you leave someone behind
Kris Jan 2015
if you leave someone behind
be it emotionally
or physically
time will never stop
for the relationship between the both of you

if you leave someone behind
cobwebs,
along with insecurities,
will invade and cloud the
space between you

if you leave someone behind
animosity will be left to fester,
like an infected wound
ignored and screaming

if you leave someone behind,
you are missing the joy in their faces
when they fall in love
under the stars,
bathing in pale moonlight
that cleanses their heart of hurt

if you leave someone behind
and then come back one day,
the look on her face isn't going to be radiant
confusion, hurt, anger,
and regret
may make her unreadable
and you sour

if you leave someone behind
you may come back
to someone different
from the person you left behind

if you leave someone behind
you are giving them
your blessing
to leave you behind
no one should ever leave without notice. no one should ever have to experience the pain of being left behind without knowing what went wrong. my heart goes out to all who have.
Kris Sep 2014
i don't think i've shown this to you before
but today i think i will
you see, i don't tell people about this
not often at least
or not at all

not since the day
my mother laughed at me
not since the day
my father jeered with
contempt in the curl of his lip
not since the day
my friends waved me off
as delusional

it's a little tattered
and a little tarnished
i really wish that it could've looked a lot nicer
for you to see
the shine is kind of gone
but it's still really precious to me

i think i'll come with you
no, wait-
you should go alone
i'll wait for you out here and
i hope that you'll be kind

you'll see in the corner
there is a dusty box
it really isn't much
and you'll have to brush cobwebs off

and when the box is clean
like when each day shone anew
maybe you'll even get to see
the lines of ambition that carved
hope into my box of dreams
Ambition and goals in life were things I struggled with a lot because a lot of people didn't believe in me.
This poem is meant to speak for those who have had dreams and were afraid of telling others about it for fear of negative responses.
Jul 2014 · 611
will I
Kris Jul 2014
will I still be remembered under the blare of lights that flood the field, a lone silhouette amongst a hundred others. will I still be able to stand out, a dull worn rag chafing against pastel silks. will I be worth something, even if I try my hardest not to trip and fall in this marathon. will I stand tall like a tree in the middle of a wheat field or will I be fragile as the painting of the moon from its rays upon the glassy canvas of a lake.
confusion and stress is never a good mixture
Jul 2014 · 226
Untitled
Kris Jul 2014
if I step on the cracks will I fall through
or will I float
I don't know which is worse
Jun 2014 · 521
let's get lost
Kris Jun 2014
let's get lost
for hours on end
exploring the city
turning down alleyways
taking long bus rides to nowhere
and buying things that we don't need
from shops that we'll never see again

let's get lost
in stories so old
that the pages smell like must,
pirates and faerie dust

let's get lost
in each other's minds
each and every embarrassing tale
a beautiful one
having a bad sense of direction isn't necessarily a bad thing
Jun 2014 · 1.2k
shooting star
Kris Jun 2014
starlight starbright
first star I see tonight
wish I may wish I might
have the wish I wish tonight*

it takes nothing more than a few
choice words carelessly spoken
to shatter dreams and treasured wishes
things that grew bright and beautiful
within you

so you bend down and pick up the pieces
and in desperation,
glue them back together
to form a shadow of what it once was

but they don't think twice when
it comes to tearing it apart a second time

it doesn't make sense
not to you
not when they're supposed to be the ones
cheering you on
wishing on a star with you
instead of
laughing

you look into the sky
and search the darkness for a shooting star
and when you see one
you smile
but only a little

tired
of fighting a losing battle
of sore throats and swollen eyes from
screaming matches
they've almost won this war

and you look
at whatever hope you have left
a faint glimmering reflection
of what it once was
and with a sigh
the light goes out
you look into the sky
and search the darkness for a shooting star
but you realise
that they too,
are dead dreams
going down in flames
Jun 2014 · 434
Untitled
Kris Jun 2014
in a world where people adapt like mouldable clay
i am rigid
Porcelein

— The End —