you were the summer's heat
and you kept me up all night
wetting my sheets with sweat and blood and tears.
you were the winter's icy wind
and you blew down my door
and got between my breath
and underneath my clothes;
making me shiver and struggle to breathe or keep warm.
you were the fall's leaves,
making my trees rain and the sky weep
and everything grew brown and withered and died.

but then you were the spring-
(where the flowers bloomed and the birds sang and things grew again and the sun shined again and the wind blew again)
and you made it all worth it, again.

you break me
and crush me
between your fingers
squeezing the life out of me
until I falter and give in.
like a soft pill that was once hard
but diluted by water
i am molded by your fingertips
the ones that once held me lovingly,
but now pulverize me,
letting the crumbs of my past
filter through your grip
and onto the ground
where I continue to be tread upon
by you and everyone i've ever fallen for.

I tore open the soft skin on my arm again*
soft skin? oh not anymore, actually.
more like scarred skin.
the healing scabs and emergency cells attempting to cover up old mistakes of the past.
seal them, heal them; leave them be.
what do I do now in this mess of blood and tears?
I sit here, undressed, a shivering mess-
afraid of nothing yet fearful of everything.
I am lost, confused,
hurting just to feel,
to feel alive again.
I'm afraid so please hold me
yet leave me alone because I am not sure what I want
what I should do
why I am still breathing.
**** me. leave me.
I think it is my time.

I don't think you get how difficult this is for me. Do you?

At home, I can never be alone, always around my family because they are convinced I am a danger to myself and they have to keep constant watch over me. It's more like I'm trapped. I do not feel cared for, or loved (even though they do) but it feels like a prison where privacy and solitude no longer exist.

On campus, I cannot be myself. This writer, poet, loner, silent girl who only speaks to people who seem decent or whom initiates a conversation because she is too scared to do it herself. This insecure girl who must now change to acquire friendship, company. She only wants to be liked, accepted, and to belong. **** on Wednesday, clubbing, flings, shisha. I do not understand why it takes so much to have a friend that would stay. I smoke, and that would be the limit, but my loneliness begs for so much more.

In public, I want to just shout out who I am and who I could really be. I want to walk up to strangers and spark up a conversation of similar interest. Ask how they're doing, or if their family is well. Let them know I could be their friend and allow them to cry on my shoulder about the trauma they've been through. But I cannot. No one smiles when I smile at them, they only walk faster and turn their heads away. Why is it that simple acts of kindness or just friendliness can be such a disgusting and rare thing?

When I'm alone, I can be myself. I can cry and shout and sing and write and dance and do stupid things. I can smoke and laugh and scribble and put on make-up and take selfies while no one's watching. I can be at my worst, and I can be my best when I'm alone. It's a blessing and a curse but it's solitude which I treasure so much.

It's funny how much I crave companionship; a friend, a partner, a love interest. Yet, I wish to be alone. Why is that?

I'd like to establish a relationship with an online poet so we can write away the time difference with words of uncertainty.*

and then maybe, after years of being hidden away behind screens and across borders and oceans we meet over a cup of hot beverage, shivering in the cold (preferably) and laugh about horrid lines we came up with and the confusion would be blown away by Jack Frost.

we'd be our raw vivid selves, poet to poet, human to human, friend to friend. maybe we won't even speak of poetry but of people we love, hate, bad things that happened, are happening, will happen. ordinary, extraordinary things.

and then perhaps; we might fall in love under the twinkling of eyes and sharing a love of words both complex and simple. perhaps.

she is haunted by a beautiful sweet sadness that won't
                                                                                                 go
                                                                                                     away.

I want to die;
no, actually- I want to live.
but, I want to escape
from the time that traps me
that holds me down
and suspends me underneath
the lack of ticking from the minute hand;
as the clock stares me down
not understanding what goes on in my head.
I want time to move so fast
despite my fear of the future.
I want it to pass by quick
so I wouldn't have moments that would pause completely
and the pain would linger on and on and
it would hurts so much continuously
and I'm frozen in this moment
and time isn't moving
and I can't go on
and my legs won't twitch and my heart won't beat
and I'm just stuck in this moment of complete terror and hurt and
i           don't            know          what         to                      
                                                                                do

her skin opened at the cut
like her lips opened at the hurt.

she cried out into the night when he left 

but when the blood began to drip,
she weeped no more.

put out a cigarette on my tongue

and burn away the words

of yesterday.

I sit here with tear stained cheeks
and a pale face,
typing with shaking fingers in the dark night,
straining a mind consumed with pain to think
of words that no longer sound too foolish
or too youthful.
my heart pounds hard in my chest,
but I no longer feel it
knowing it will only beat for a while more.
my shallow breaths prepare for my final exhalation,
and the warmth in my physique diminishes
to winter once again.

What can I write about a dying girl
who had perished so many years ago?
nothing, honestly.
I sit here, lamenting the loss of someone
I used to know.
the reflection that I saw in the mirror every morning,
the face I used to paste a smile on every day,
the very skin I used to rip apart.
she had died somewhere,
in the midst of all that suffering.
and no one knew I was merely the walking embodiment of her.

And that is why
with icicles for fingers
and a hollow chest where my heart was
I write an elegy
for someone I used to love,
yet could never bring back.
as I am dying
just as she once was.

I wonder why it's made
Why there ever was such thing
To signify-
All signs of pain,
Hopelessness and hurt,
Torture and abuse.
The thick redness of the complicated liquid
Litter eery vessel in our bodies
Giving life
Yet symbolising death.
The very look or feel or texture of it
Almost aches the heart:
The very source of all
Good, pain and mystery.
Emotions run through our blood
In a continuous stream
Of laughter, tears and uncertainty.
That is why,
We're made.
Why: we possess
The things we are meant to have.
To live.
The way we do, now.

I am mad, so mad to the point that my seething anger can be seen and felt by the red in my cheeks. I feel like I am about to burst, because my heart is pounding, continuously increasing it's pace. There is a mild throbbing at the back of my head and I feel it ever quicken and deepen as my rage becomes painfully noticeable. I wince, and that calms me down a little. The feeling of physical pain caused by an emotion as simple as anger can lead to an immediate calming effect. But I can no longer be calm because I am mad again. The rage I have in me is so strong that I am unable to let out a single word.
Not even a shout or scream or squeal of frustration. My chest feels like it may give up on me and explode, causing my heart to break apart my ribcage and skin and fall out into the open.
The smallest trickle of tears fall down my cheeks and my loathe for sadness only escalates my wrath. But as the tears continue to fall, I give in to it-
Becoming the vulnerable, sad little girl that had tried to be angry and was ready to burst, only to be consumed by misery and guilt once more.
I collapse into a heap onto the ground and turn my head so it faces the floor, wetting the surface with my tears and heavy gasps of hopelessness.

when her eyes open wide
I could feel the ocean rushing in them
I could see my reflected happiness
I could taste the sea water as she cried
when her lips parted to reveal perfect teeth and tongue
I wish i could indulge in her
I wish i could make her feel wanted
I wish all that came out of her mouth were moans of delight and sweet nothings she'd whisper into my ear
when her heart beat fast
I could hear the thunder of a storm approaching
I could hear the blood rushing to her head and to her cheeks
I could hear her thoughts tumbling about in her head

and I sat down to think and think and wonder
why have I not fallen in love with her yet?

you've churned me into vulnerability
and all i'm inclined to do
is to thank you
for breaking me and bending me
into a mould i can no longer break out of
thus,
compelling me to look to you
as my source of life
love
and happiness.

i am,
and always will be,
unconditionally yours.

You painted onto her eyes
The sweet poetic words of your cold embrace
Letting the punctuation marks run down her cheeks
In the form of saturated tears and soiled mascara
Every alphabet you left behind
Ever tear you refused to wipe away with your thumbs,
She used to form words of love and remorse-
Statements of a battle lost and a broken heart.

i'm desperately longing for the way things used to be
when you were you and i were me.

she whispered the words of hope
her breath thick
her words slurred together
as they danced from her tongue
loveliness surrounding the air around her.

she beamed the smile of happiness
her face lit up
like christmas lights on a traditional tree
and she shone brighter than any sun
allowing them warmth and laughter.

she sang words of life
and each sentence proved a lesson,
she taught and they listened
and they believed
in the slight glimmer of a dream that had once faded.

and finally
she loved with emotion and desire
with a strong passion
that could not be found in just anyone.
she was special
a beautiful young daisy
barely blossoming
yet letting the sun shine brighter
and gracing the dirt with her beauty.

despite it all
she never seemed to see
all the beauty she was and could be.
perhaps we should try
to be the good in our hearts
that she could perceive.
let the world smile with
Esther,
once again.

"She was a little bird
Seemingly free from her cage
Of pain and mutilation."*

But they held her down,
Trapping her in her past.
They plucked her feathers out
One by one and bit by bit,
Until her wings were
Sorry excuses
And ****** stumps.
They reached her hands down her throat
And pulled out her voice:
The one she used to sing
Her sorrowful songs
And happy chirps with.
They took apart her torso
To reveal a beating ****** heart,
And they tore it to shreds
Leaving only icicles in place
Where it hurt to feel.
They reached to her face
And pulled out her longing eyes
Once big and beautiful
And left small black marbles in their place,
Allowing her to only see the beautiful world
As a monotonous void of has-beens.
They cut off her legs
The ones she used to dance and to run
And left behind twigs
Which left her unstable and wobbly;
Incapable and useless like a newborn without purpose.
They extracted her brain from her skull
Pulling out thoughts and dreams and imagination,
Forcing in demons and terrors
To keep her company during her lonely nights.

But then,
They tried to cut off her soul.
And they wrestled and fought,
They ****** and twisted,
But nothing budged.
It was as if
It was never there in the first place.
What they never knew
Was that a soul,
Being merely an embodiment of this little bird,
Contained barely a whisper of a being
Yet,
Was able to make or break the very core
Of one who could no longer feel.

Little did they know
As they tore her apart limb from limb
And took away everything she had ever known,
The very light which gave breath to her
Stopped
Shining
And left her.

Just like everybody else.

The rise and fall of his chest
As the breath of life flows through his body.
I watch, silently
Barely awake from last night's slumber that had taken me to its *****.
Barely moving
Barely making a sound
I wouldn't wanna wake him
As my thoughts swim around;
My mind starts to tumble
All about with love and wonder
Someone who fell in love with me
Though I'm such a blunder.
Something presses on at the back of my head
Calling me, alerting me
I only ignore it
Nothing is more precious than this moment.
He finally moves a little
Enough to put his left arm around my smaller frame
Beside him
Holding me down
Securing me in his embrace.
Then I begin to wonder as I settle my eyes shut again
How I ever got so lucky
How he makes me ever so happy
And how much it hurts
To realise..

I wake up
Everything is gone
He is gone
His arms are gone
The security I once felt is gone

I am alone.
Surrounded by darkness and the creatures of the night once more.
Haunted by the past, the present and what is to come.
The many boulders of life in front of me
Coming closer
And all I can do is
Wrap myself in the only arms I've ever relied on
As it begins to rain down my face once more
The tears I always regret crying
The pain I always despise feeling
And pray to fall back asleep into a restless
Yet more comforting
Parallel reality
Where nothing is real
Yet everything is.

It feels as if
What matters in my head
No longer matters
As soon as I hear your voice.
The love you engulf my heart in,
Allow my heartaches
And tortured soul
To relax in the open
Of your arms.
And when your eyes meet mine,
It's as if the whole world stops
And time freezes into a frame
That is ours and only ours.
Let us relive each moment
Together.
Forever.

the love I have for you
is a love untameable.
as wild as the wind
on a winter's night,
is as wild as my heart
beats for you.
your sweet voice drips like
tempting honey,
where I would be the only bee to taste it.
your heart contains joy
that I hope I have instilled,
and holds blood which
pumps for me alone.
the laughter which lights up your face,
illuminates my heart
and I love you even more
than the day before.

Listen to her heart
Fluttering.
Watch how his lips are
Stuttering.
Their palms are enclosed into
Fists.
Their bodies shrouded in heavy
Mist.
A clock chimes somewhere
Far.
This is them, at their weakest state;
*This is who they are.

Will you reach for the stars
When you're still on the ground?
Will you keep dancing
When you no longer hear sound?
Will you still love
Though your spirit is torn?
Will you still smile
When you're sad and forlorn?

*You were made to reach for stars
You cannot see,
Made to keep dancing
Though a dancer you'll never be.
Designed to love
When all hope is lost,
And to smile
Even with a heart full of frost.

maybe, like writing in sand-
our feelings may wash away in
intermittent rain and satiated tide
filled with rough seashell and friendly fish.
maybe, in the nights
where the moon is hidden-
we simply close our eyes to the light
and lie to our incoherent minds
that we were deserted,
and no longer loved
merely to gain some sort of
melancholic self pity.
maybe, our senses
are blind to the most obvious,
to the situations which love us
and people who leave us.

Only a wee child.
A tiny little girl.
Oblivious to the world
And its swarm of monstrosities.

She yawned
And he glanced over,
Realising that it was time for her nap.
Her parents had gone out
And she was under his care
Under his wing
Trusting him
A little too much.
He tucked her into bed.
And snuggled in next to her.
She tossed and turned,
Trying to sleep.

But dreamland
Was a little more out of reach than it usually was.
"Want to try something?"
He asked, voice all regular.
Her eyes stared up at him
Sleepy yet curious.

He told her not to look underneath the blanket.
There was movement.
She trusted him,
she trusted him.
Then she felt her belly touch the blanket.
And her bottom exposed
As her ******* was pulled down.

What came next was a shock.
She did not know
Did not understand.
She was a child!
It was there.
Rubbing
Cold
Different
Eerie
She shivered in
What was it, delight?
7 years later she hoped it wasn't.

Snapping back to reality;
Pushing the questions to the back of her mind,
She glanced under the covers
And got a rough pull.
He scolded her.
She was scared.
She did not cry.
She needed to ***.
What was going on?

She could not sleep.
She was curious.
She was scared.
Everything changed.
She wanted more.
She did not comprehend.

7 years later,
She found out.
She understood.
And it was painful.
It was traumatic.
And it left such a deep scar
That could never
Ever,
Be healed.

She was 5 years old;
He was 14.

It's 11 years later and it still haunts her.
**Why me?

The fragments of blood and tears litter the floor.
A small pile of hair and human beside it.
A girl once strong- no not anymore.
The fire that once sparked her heart no longer lit.
It was almost a dream that had once come true,
But none of it seemed real anymore.
Broken promises and lies of the things we do-
In that little pile of debris was where her spirit tore.

The monster inside,
She fights and she bites
Yet I don't feel a thing.

I can hear her screams of pure hatred,
Which almost seems like sweet nothings in my head.
Slowly, I breathe in; and so does she.
Despite being a beast in my head,
She acts like a regular person instead.
But I can't see her, no not yet,
I feel her breath next to mine.
Almost the same tempo;
So synchronised in time.
I inhale the sickly sweet scent
Of her smile.
The wind in her hair;
The drost in her soul.

I begin to smell,
The contempt in her eyes.
The evil, oh so bold.
And as all these senses
Merge into one-
She disappears.
Like a shadow fades into the light
Or a mighty devil scorned.

It almost feels like I'm free
Just for a moment.
Slowly, and gradually,
But it feels like it was in a split second.
The pain rushes back.
The realisation doesn't.
My senses resurrect from their numbness;
Ever so ploddingly
And I see
I see,
Her.
Looking right back at me,
As if she had been there for days, weeks, months,
An eternity.
Just, watching.
Waiting.
Ready to attack.
I look straight back into her eyes;
Barely breathing.
Barely smiling.
Barely feeling-
Anything at all.
It is then, the moons change and the stars shift
Feelings alter
And I feel something I seemed
Unable to fathom
Just a few moments ago.

Then,
I fear again.