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 Mar 2015 ln
 Mar 2015 ln
Your eyes were too innocent,
For me to see,
That you were planning on
Bringing me to my breaking point,
I wasn't prepared for your little show,
Deafened by your smile,

For back then,
I couldn't see the hell in your hello.
Dun...dun...dun...Inspired by something I saw online :)
 Nov 2014 ln
(This post is dedicated to all my followers who still stuck with me after my long hiatus. I'm running low on inspiration these days. I am not a good writer but I'm working towards being one. I hope this post more or less compensates for my long absence.)


     First things first, he is not my lover. He never has been and probably never will be. But he is very dear to me, and I do not think that I will be forgetting him anytime soon, and thus I considered him my lover. I hope you are okay with that. After all, my thoughts will in no way affect your life. I am writing this letter to congratulate you. You are able to trace the veins on his hands; his pair of hands which I was not privileged enough to touch. Run your fingers over his and remember how soft it is. Only then would it be fair to him because his hands are amazingly sculptured. Remember how they look like, remember how they feel like, even long after he's gone. I would also like to congratulate you for having the chance to see him every day. You see, he has the kind of face you don't get tired of staring at. I hope you notice that. I didn't know faces work that way when you're in love.

     That being said, I would like to pass on several guidelines to you. Guidelines on how to look after this boy. At the time of this letter, we are both eighteen. Young, raw, and still halfway through college. Okay, how do I put this in a nice way. He is light-hearted. Free-spirited. He does what he wants, as long as he is happy. He skips classes often here, I'm not going to deny that. Make sure he doesn't do the same for his work. Force him out of bed and make him go to his ****** job unless he's too sick to sit up. He has a family to feed and children to raise now. Help me shape him into a responsible man. I trust you enough to do this. Also, let him buy his cereals. He will still probably eat it in the morning when he's in a rush, in the evening while he's waiting for you to prepare dinner, and at night when he's too lazy to make supper but too hungry to go to bed after two movies. He makes the most disgusting-tasting oats. I tried it once and it tasted like *****. Trust me, there is nothing you can do about it because he's convinced that it tastes good. Perhaps his tongue has been surgically engineered when he was a fetus. I don't know. Either way, love him for that. But don't let him be the one who makes cereals for the children. Poor, poor children. One more thing, be ready to let his lips touch the mouth of your drinking bottle if he asks for water. He doesn't know how to pour liquid from a bottle without wetting himself. He's an idiot like that.

     Oh, and the air purifier in your room? Clean it once in a while. Make sure the machine works well. He's allergic to dust and I don't know the effects it has on him. And his body can't tolerate coldness that much, so compromise with him and agree on an intermediate temperature, please? Personally, I don't like it too cold either but I do not matter in this context.

     Anyway, I have to go to bed now. It's 1:27AM and I have a class in the morning. I might write another letter to you in the future, I might not. After all, both of us share an extraordinary bond. You are currently in love with someone I used to love. You must have seen the same things I saw in him, probably even more. Maybe I could actually get along with you well, if I could make myself stop wondering what I am lacking every time I look at you.
I got inspired to write poetry in a letter format after re-reading berry's 'the first and last angry letter' ( and also kunthavi's 'A Letter To My Landlord' ( Therefore, my writing style might have been similar to these two pieces in several parts. I used them as reference. Credits go to these two. I love these two pieces so much I printed them out and stuck them in my notebook.
 Oct 2014 ln
 Oct 2014 ln
Writing isn't really my thing.

It never has been and I don't think it ever will be.

But god **** I could write a book about all the things I love about you.
 Aug 2014 ln
Hope surges upward from your core and to the heart. It warms your blood as your heart crushes into itself twice every second and unbelievably, your mind starts to think of a million and one possibilities. Your hand tingles and finally, after what seemed like eons, you think you are feeling hope again. You start suppressing it out of reflex- an unconscious, uncontrollable action. You push it down, right back to the void it came from but its too late and your lips are curving upwards into a gentle smile. You anticipate euphoria -almost can feel it at the top of your fingertips and you finally let yourself believe and hope.

It comes crashing down without warning. For a second, you still smile because your mind could not process the disappointment yet. Then - hurt, sadness, shock - flits through your mind. You still hold on to your hope like a child who refuses to let go of candy. Your smile wavers. But just like grabbing onto handfuls of sand, hope will fall out through your tightly clasped fingers. You realised that your hold on hope is no longer and instead, it is replaced by cold, unforgiving reality.

Like an icy slap to your face, like an unexpected kick to the stomach, like a bite from a dog you have always love- that is how disappointment feels like.
my feelings are so poignant, i don't think i can ever express it adequately in words. but i tried.
 Jul 2014 ln
Let it go
 Jul 2014 ln
no matter how hard we try
some people are just not meant to be in our lives
 Jun 2014 ln
Here's the truth:

Love can't be recognized in a time span of two, to five minutes.
It's not as easy as you may or may not think.
Love has to be felt by one.
All parts of the body are significant to feeling love, it's not just the heart.
You may think the heart reacts most to love;
But it's mostly the body.
It's always the body, showing you signs.
Your fingers that make you instantly reply a text message.
Your stomach that makes it seem like you run a butterfly field in there.
Your knees that wobbles at the sight of the other walking toward you.
Your eyes & head that ache after a night of silent cries under the sheets.

Other than that..
The sparks you feel at each contact.
Fireworks everywhere during each kiss!
The sharp knives that penetrate into your whole ******* soul when the other actually says it the end,
that's where you gotta stand and say;
"I ******* love you, you have to stay."

Man, that's love. And how you feel it.

 May 2014 ln
Lost of touch.
 May 2014 ln
What happened?
You've changed.
Slowly distancing yourself from me.
It's scaring me.
What happened to,
Days go by and it seems as if you're falling out of love with me.
What happened to forevermore?
 May 2014 ln
what love is
 May 2014 ln
love is when you see the beauty within a face full of pimples,
the light shining so bright on your other, despite the heavy rain
the insignificant touches, glances, grazes, chuckles and giggles
the significant madness, misery, glares, curses and screams
but then you turn back, say you're sorry and make up again.

love is when you feel like you've done no wrong but you give in,
it is when you turn the lights off for the other who is sleeping
the off days you spend at parks and lake sides
and the lunch hours you give up to say what you have in mind.

"I love you, I love you, do you love me too?"
Said the other on desperate measures,
the flowers and chocolates you buy just to please her.
The infinite amount of kisses on a sad night,
the hugs and blankets to keep her from fright.
"I love you, I love you, baby good night.
I hope you love me too, I hope you sleep tight."

It's the last night before one leaves to university,
it's the last kiss before the last night ends, surely
you've wondered why they'll have to go,
what can you do, and can you follow?

it's the last hug, the last touch, the last laugh and the last smile,
that you'll ever get to see, in probably a very long time.
it's that last physical feeling you feel in through out your body,
its the pain, the joy, the suppressed happiness and the misery
that you felt when and before you first met her.

that's what love is.
and that's how it goes on,
and never ends.


Dedicated to Farrah.
love and i'm ******* sleepy
 May 2014 ln
raw with love
you're not your hair:
you can cut it dye it curl it straighten it shave it bend it twist it;

you're not your face:
you can hide it under layers of make-up you can put on lenses you can change your face in a matter of minutes;

you're not your skin:
you can cut it draw on it bite it tear it;

you're not your body:
you can lose weight gain weight;

you're not your clothes:
strip them off;

never reduce
a colour
a number
an adjective
a noun

never reduce
to a simple

you are
the thoughts you have at 3 a.m.
the lame jokes you tell your friends
the art you create
the books you read
the pages you have dog-eared
the quotes you have highlighted
the coffee you never finished drinking
the movie you watch after midnight, wrapped in a blanket
the chocolate cake you ate that night with that girl
the slice of pizza you could've eaten but you gave to your best friend
the kiss that still burns on your lips
the cigarettes that sting in your lungs long after you smoked them
the dreams you dream
the worlds you build in your mind
the song that's stuck in your head
the moments you're in the shower
the iloveyous
the ikindaguessilikeyous
the icareforyous
the seeyoulaters
the words you say
the smiles you smile
the laughs you laugh
the loves you love
the hates you hate

you are
an entire universe:
you're stars
and planets
and galaxies
and asteroids
and comets

you are a cosmos
trapped in
a shell.

you are
a gazillion worlds
locked in
a human cage.

never think
of yourself
as of
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