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yāsha Aug 2023
drag my helpless body down the hallway
where it is dark and hidden from everyone,
a place too eerie that ghosts yearn to dwell and linger
—my purpose is quite the same after all.

compelled to conceal myself in the shadows,
sublimating to an unnoticeable presence
like speck of dust upon a quaint furniture
that no matter how meticulous and kind
the hands that care for me,
i cannot be wiped clean.

a miniscule of being that i am
only has a slight chance to be found.
to be known.
Jul 2023 · 1.2k
scorched skin
yāsha Jul 2023
my skin was off
the first time i met you and
you saw how ugly it was to be me.
even if i looked frightening,
your face remained static—you wore the kind of skin
that reminded me of the most calm and quiet period
of the night where i can just be myself.
there, i could wear any skin i want
to hide,
to be happy,
to be at peace
or perhaps i wear them at random
just so i can feel something.

you stood there and perceived me
beyond this paper skin as if my ugliness
was something that can be erased.
but just like every skin
that is hanging inside my closet,
every single one of them is threaded
with some sort of deficiency
and each time i wear them,

     i light myself on fire
     because i like watching myself burn.
     slowly, you walked towards me to warm yourself.
Jul 2023 · 1.4k
grave fireflies
yāsha Jul 2023
i have tiny jars that are shelved
perfectly inside my brain
from category a to z,
sorted by themes,
and from one to a hundred
—a scale of how painful
life is in my repetitive experience.

i keep all my memories sealed
like a handful of fireflies shoved in a jar
that only live for three days;
i may forget every scenario with ease
but never the dying flicker—the feeling
that grow dim in each canister.

god, how fragile am i that it only takes
a trigger for each glass to combust tragically,
good thing i'm the only one
who knows how to pull it.
     i wonder which repressed emotions
     are going to choke me violently tonight.
Jun 2023 · 1.6k
see you soon
yāsha Jun 2023
please, look at me.
look at me in every way that love feels,
then peer into me as if you are meeting
a candle light to blow its heat.
     i promise i won't speak unless you need me to,
so look at me in every possible way
if it helps you see me better.

deep in your gaze,
mesh me in every memory that makes you cry
     for i am a home for dark things too.
your every spill cannot flood
the vast space of my nothingness.
     i have all the room in the world
     to take in every version of you.
Jun 2023 · 3.5k
mother
yāsha Jun 2023
my mother shoved words into my mouth
she fed me whenever i cried
and as the obedient kid that i was,
i learned to nibble on every word
and swallowed them as i should.
now that i'm older,
my stomach has ran acid
ーit burns my chest and i would still feel them
foam inside my mouth as if
every word were told just yesterday.
how can i truly love my mother
if she couldn't feed me
when i was hungry for something else?
i cried again with my heart wide open
as my knees wobble in fear
of how exposed i was in front of her.
but this time,
i guess she couldn't hear me enough.
it was silentーshe couldn't feed me anything,
for not a single word left her mouth.
she watched me intently
as i detach the cord from both of our bodies.
     i wasn't the daughter she loved anymore,
     but she was still the mother i loved.
Jun 2023 · 1.2k
a poet's lament
yāsha Jun 2023
as i walk with nothing but the feeling of my heart
grasped achingly by my ribcages,
i grieve for my future self;
this is a habit i cannot break.
like a sacred ritual
i commence a solemn ceremony
to mourn for the unknown half and
to mourn for myself, a loveless poet.
     will i spare someone all the love
     that i tend in my backyard?
     the garden of all my poems,
     the garden of all my words.
but, what kind of poet am i
if all the love i write is mused by utter loneliness,
soiled underneath the pretty field?
resting in peace in a worm casted ground.
oh, i cannot wait to see
how my garden will bloom
once you enter it.
how your presence will soften the soil
and i will welcome you fondly as you earthen close.
     but please know that rain
     did not water every thing here,
     this love grew because my heart has yearned
     a lifetime to be understood.to be known.
     you were once a figment of all my hurt,
     a muse shaped like a blur that i begged to seek me.
i guess our hearts naturally just ache to be loved
that we yearn for beautiful things
right after killing them with our very own hands.
still, i remain as gentle as i am now
because i mourned,
    and mourned,
      and mourned...
       for someone like you.
a flicker that was absent for god knows
how many lightyears away we were to each other,
that we couldn't hold hands no matter how
interlocked our hearts were at recognizing everything we feel.
so forgive me if i mourn for you by and by
—your beauty is closest to the moon after all,
tell me, how can i not long for you forever?
Jun 2023 · 1.3k
my old friend
yāsha Jun 2023
i crave for loneliness to brush my hair,
mother me tenderly to sleep
as you did when i had carvings
on my left wrist at twelve years old
—a braille i fondled with every day,
                   i. don't want. to be. here.

somehow, my nightly hiccups
never drove me to my end.
i am still gentle because
you follow me wherever i go;
visiting me at the right moments
especially when i am accompanied
by my own ***** and the cold bathroom floor—
          and then you stay quiet the whole hour
          to give me some time to grieve.

i wear you like a protective charm now,
for you are the only love i've ever known.
Jun 2023 · 1.2k
in memory of you
yāsha Jun 2023
in your absence
i immersed myself in sadness,
for there was nothing left to love
in the remaining pieces of you
that was too blurry for me
to comprehend in the first place.
    was it really you?
because i felt too many heartaches
trying to filter your name in my palms
—you made me figure out
so many things on my own
as if this kind of mystery
will compel me to draw closer to you.

but i, too, am human
i grow weary of repetitive things
that remain obscure,
just like how your name
sounded sweet every time—
     only for it to mean nothing to me.

like ***** laundry, my sadness
pile on top of one another,
and now i am grieving
because your name sounds like a metal
being dragged on the ground
—a heaviness that keeps
tugging my heart wide open.

there is no more room for you here,
my love for you has finally died.
Jun 2023 · 3.2k
touch starved
yāsha Jun 2023
i think i exist only to love
but never experience,
a pretentious bag of bones like me
will only stir your feelings
     —you will wallow in it for some time
     and then you will forget about me
like a cup of coffee that has gone cold.

but if i must admit,
it's because i do stunt my own growth:
in life, in love, but strangely enough,
                                           not in death.
an odd number of reasons
aid my tendencies;
they get glued together to form
a paper-maché of well-composed farewells
—a craft i have mastered in my years of longing.

i think i exist only to love,
but never experience—
yet here i am, still longing
until i get a hand to hold.
May 2023 · 954
the great pretender
yāsha May 2023
i like the way i make you go soft,
when i touch you like a friend
and your hands start to sweat
as if my fingers brushed your lips.
when your eyes hold my gaze
and you look at me lovingly,
even if our faces
never met each other's warmth.
            not even once.
tell me, how do i make you go hard?
because it seems that you only kiss people
who makes your body quiver.
     you only want to love
      when they give you a certain pulse
—but didn't i make your heart beat more faster
when i poured the gravity of my heart
to satisfy yours?
Apr 2023 · 1.1k
guilt trip
yāsha Apr 2023
slather my lips more with your salivated
ecstasy.
pry my mouth open
and speak to me in french—kiss and make me
remember that these illusions are safe. perhaps
alter my two realities,
tell me that i am real—you are real. this trip has no
end, i know. but i've never been loved like this.

      i would end it if it means i'd get to live again,
      but then i'll leave you here
      —all alone with no one to hold.
Nov 2016 · 553
Eclipse (revised)
yāsha Nov 2016
This fifth dimension
might be teasing us,
but no matter how it does
I still see you even at dusk.

Remember when we met once—at twilight,
when the sun and moon met our glance;
in our heart, there were similar feeling that runs
only to find comfort when we held hands.

We were about to write our name on each other’s palm,
to never forget the one who cries this psalm,
until the sun decided to leave the moon at the sky turning plum,
I looked at the broken letter that made my mind calm,
while my heart was suddenly drenched with sorrow as if,
the one, turned the door—and slam.

Within me,
is a soul filled with bliss,
but every time I awoke there seems to be something that I miss–
a longing for something or someone without a trace,
and I could not find it in this place.

How I wish these words within
could travel to what I’ve been searching–
If I only know where the point starts and end;
of this mesmerizing rainbow or the droplets of the rain;
then maybe, we could somehow meet again.

Outro:
Your name is still stringed within me
but I cannot seem to figure the right letters that you told me;
If you recognize me when we cross paths
and we are afraid to speak each other’s name,
let’s make our signal
how to say, “Nice to meet you”.
inspiration: Kimi No Nawa
Jul 2016 · 264
Not a poem, just feelings
yāsha Jul 2016
I’ve been thinking of names. Of faces. Of familiar voices. I wanted human touch. I needed human touch. I’ve always been crying in my own arms. Always. If not mine, I’m crying on my pillow thanking God he was the only one who knew my thoughts. My feelings. He was always there. I don’t know what would  I do if he wasn’t.

     Today, I woke up feeling vague. I felt like there was a hole in my heart I forced to plug with who knows what. Then I suddenly found myself tearing up. I just could not accept the fact that someone had been pretending. Someone had always been pretending and I didn’t know. I had no idea. I wish I had noticed it before it devoured me.
     This gave me a lot of pain more than any unrequited feelings I have ever felt. I have only come to know that being lied to was the worst thing one could feel.

I, too, am pretentious. But not that pretentious.
Jul 2016 · 519
A Migraine to Me
yāsha Jul 2016
The word 'friend'
brings an echo of headache
to my solemn mind
for I have no more strength
to fathom of what it really is.
I am exhausted of this cycle
of myself
trying to understand those
who cannot even understand me.
I am exhausted
of giving my trust
to someone
with a playful mind--
I just stood in my place
like a a string in a candle wax--
I was burning,
I was in pain,
but still,
even though I tried to protect them
I ended up hurting them instead


     again.
                again...
      and
again.
i think i lost a friend...again
Jul 2016 · 328
nonsense
yāsha Jul 2016
Sometimes I want to ran away
to a place where the only name I know
is mine.

This two-syllable name
that rings nothing
but emptiness.

For I am like a glass--
I only let people see through me
because I am terrified
of them getting deeper to my soul.

A soul tapestried
with confusion and migraine--
for I am only an ache in the head
when you try to understand me.
this poem is trash just like me
Jul 2016 · 440
Unboxing the Past
yāsha Jul 2016
of how I loved you
was like trying to remember a dream
as soon as I awake--
everything was swirling
in a blur,
but the feeling of
the way I loved you
was still there.
Fainted:
but the numbers
of its weight
were etched
on the walls of my heart still.
Jul 2016 · 346
The Dream
yāsha Jul 2016
felt real
for I went near the mentor
I have always loved dearly
for we were allowed to ask any questions;
the line intensified and then it was my turn,
the clock was a ticking bomb to my heart attack--
I was panicking, thinking of a question to ask
then suddenly these words poured out,
"Ma'am, is it okay if I fall in love again?"
My mentor just looked at me,
and shrugged her shoulders with
a sigh of irritation.

Maybe it was a sign
that I was still
not
ready,
     to fall in love
     again.
I make it a habit to jot down my dreams as soon as I awake. Here is one.
Jul 2016 · 470
Noise in my head
yāsha Jul 2016
I heard you were back in town
and my lips stretched from west to east--
I had no idea why
but there was a faint feeling
that I was happy to hear about you again:
that my lips went the opposite sides,
they could not help but smile.

At last,
I thought.
This was the first time
in years
that I heard about you
from someone else--
someone else
that was not me.
Jul 2016 · 300
Blockhead
yāsha Jul 2016
Maybe I choose to stay awake
so my mind will be blocked
with exhausting headaches--
too painful to even try and  think--
then I will easily drift away to sleep.
To never let your name
be the last thought when
I shut my eyes keep.
Jul 2016 · 311
Consumed by Transparency
yāsha Jul 2016
This evasive past
has become a fog within me—
it does not affect
my soul that much anymore,
but it blurs my vision;
looking ahead appears
to be only a threatening temptation,
and reaching my future
seems to be only a just reverie.
I did not know I was trapped
in these walls of glasses,
maybe people built this around me
so I could blame myself after.
I have taken million of attempts
to call upon the name
that was bruised on my lips,
but not even a break within his voice
vibrated through these ears.
Now I understand,
     why these consequences
     are scattered at my feet—
Now I know,
     why everything was so far away
     within my reach.
Jul 2016 · 264
Unravel Me
yāsha Jul 2016
(April 18, 2014)*

I want to eat the whole sky,

          because I am desperate to be happy.

I want to fill my self with it.

I want it in me.

I want to be the sky.
Jul 2016 · 758
Our love, a tapestry
yāsha Jul 2016
Nothing is wrong.
but you act like
it’s something that we should talk about;
I have to tell you that
this is not true.
I am perfectly fine.
I smile and say,
“What will happen will happen,”
because that’s the way life works.
There is pain
but that ends quickly.

As I look at the mirror, I feel awful;
I fear not being with you.
These nightmares are the reason
there shouldn’t be anything to be afraid of.
It is never true that
handling these well of emotion is difficult.
I have always found that
it is easy to be calm,
I hate when you tell me
I am not the same anymore.

(now read from bottom to top)
Jul 2016 · 320
I, a plain poet
yāsha Jul 2016
1
I fell in love with words—
and these are all I have,
all I could really get my hands on
and control every line,
curves, and the way its
sweetness roll from my tongue,
and touch me without actually
getting close to my skin.

2
Do not even attempt to pour
your silly cup of tea
on my lips—
when all you can fathom to do
is to construct words you need
to lure my heart from your
sweet talk.

3
I have warned you not to win me over—
now you have gotten to break your own heart,
because you believed a poet like me
will fall in love with words
if spoken from the mouth of a lying lips.
Jul 2016 · 662
Lost luggage: Never opened
yāsha Jul 2016
I have no permanent home address
well, maybe I do
but I am not sure anymore
if that is true.

If you happen to know
where I live,
please tell me
so I could rest
and feel at home;
as if I have fallen in love again.

For I am exhausted of my tongue
being twisted every time
I try to think of a friend--no
a name, or someone
and not pour myself
to them--
to that person
because I am simply terrified
of the fact that I
might scare them away.
     I might scare them away
I might scare them away
again.
I might scam a part
of their soul
and never pay
the pain I gave them
when I only tried
to unpack my feelings
in front of their door--
like a helpless luggage
lying on the floor.
yāsha Jul 2016
I stood still like a frozen pole
when you held your hand out to me;
With that one swift movement
I felt my lips suddenly turning pale
I felt it resonate–mumbling what ifs
I felt desperate
Of these comforting misfits
I was fine when there
was no hand in front of me,
I was fine with these lips
uttering my own apologies,
but then you held out
your hand just like that–
hands that I have been waiting for ever since.
You only came when I felt comfortably numb
so tell me why,
why would you only show up at times like these?

I would love to take your hand,
I would love to–
but every time I try to reach it,
anxiety starts to hammer my ribs
and I cannot let these break just like that
for these ribs are the cages that protect my heart–
cages that assures I am safe.

I returned my hand to where it belong,
to where it feels safe–
I put it behind me
and found pure bliss,
this bliss murmuring that I was safe—
you were safe for now.

I felt afraid
because holding another person’s hand means,
“I trust you”
“you are safe with me”
“I will fight for you”
but you see,
these hands are perfectly shaped weapons
I try to keep to keep close
for I cannot witness another
person bleed with pain,
I cannot witness another person
look at me with shame–
for these hands are guns
that learned to shoot bullets instead of flowers
to keep me sane,
and let you know that
people like me are dangerous for you to keep.

Here as I speak,
I give my deepest apologies
for the souls I shoot with bullets–
with the reasons that came out selfishly.
But I want you to understand
that I did it because I stood for my own defense–
because no one ever did.

When you held out your hand
When you tried to give me a flower–
I had this silly thought
that you knew I was dying.
It petrified me
that you would enter my life
to **** me even more.
To let me die even more.

I pointed my hand at your head–
now I hope you do not ask
any more questions,
I hope you realize
this is the end.
(a long *** poem)
Nov 2014 · 594
TRAPPED
yāsha Nov 2014
SHE’S TRAPPED IN A PLACE
WHERE DARKNESS DEVOURS HER,
GRASPING A SHOVEL
WITH BOTH OF HER BRUISED HANDS,
DIGGING A HOME
FOR HER SOUL TO REST AGAIN.
a friend of mine asked me where her old self was
Sep 2014 · 349
waiting
yāsha Sep 2014
I close my eyes
and count to ten
would you still be here,
and hug me then?

But now I see
no sight of you,
where did you go
out of the blue?

I close my eyes
and count to ten,
I sit and stand
then sit again.
Aug 2014 · 2.2k
safe journey
yāsha Aug 2014
the silent waves of my thoughts
still crashes me every night.
no, i think i am not sad...
the wind is just so powerful
that it creates water in my eyes.

i wish the storm would go away soon;
i long to have a safe journey
to whom i would be with,
without the print of your name
engraved on my ship's mast.
May 2014 · 821
at least
yāsha May 2014
it doesn't bother me
if i'm not taken.

i enjoy being single,
and i never wished for us
to be together,
because i know that would
never happen.

but at least we're
together in my thoughts,
and that's enough for me.
it really is enough for me
May 2014 · 369
you
yāsha May 2014
you
i never had you,
yet i lost you.

i will never have you,
*yet i still want you.
:(
May 2014 · 1.6k
veins
yāsha May 2014
People tried to convince me
To stop writing about you--
I would be convinced,
but you're trapped in my veins,
and i'm afraid,
the only way to set you free
is to cut my veins one by one,
until there's nothing left
for me.
i tried, but it ******. :(
Feb 2014 · 421
confession
yāsha Feb 2014
i tied your dulcet confession
through the vestiges
of my neck,
and wrote them
in the depths
of my heart
my love for him is still suffocating me, that i can't even dig up my own feelings in my heart because of how deep it has gone, so deep.
Feb 2014 · 695
your voice
yāsha Feb 2014
it has been a long time
since ive heard your voice.
it was like a melody
with a sophisticated symphony
that i breathe deeply
into my soul.

as i reminisce
the last time i heard your voice,
it reached my heart;
and i inhaled slowly
that it made me tear up
it hit me hard
in my head and chest
i realized that,
you made my heart beat
once more...
my friend told me this is one of my great poems so i decided to post it here. :-)

— The End —