you're going to explode
and every part of you
that got torn apart
in the process
will eventually heal
you'll never be normal
you'll live knowing
means you survived
and you're stronger
than you can ever perceive
yourself to be
She looked at her mother.
Her mother’s dead body to be more specific.
She wanted to cry and scream.
But all she could do was stare at what is in the coffin.
A body. It belonged to someone she once knew.
People were rushing past her.
It is a funeral after all.
Too many things to be done.
And no one really could ask her to do anything.
She was stiff as a stone.
Pretty useless anyway.
Always have been.
Never knew what the right things to do socially were.
That used to be one of the problems her mother had with her.
Her poor mother.
She gave birth to an alien.
Someone who wasn’t normal.
She looked human outside but inside her daughter could not be more different to her.
Not only to her but pretty much an alien to the whole planet.
She didn’t know how to behave or dress up in social events.
How much her mother wanted a daughter who was pretty so she can flaunt her daughter everywhere?
How much she wanted a daughter who did not always argue with her? How much she wanted a daughter who loved house chores and enjoyed shopping?
How much she wanted a child who was just like everyone else?
There were countless days her mother scolded the God.
All her mother ever wanted was a normal child.
She didn’t have the strength to handle this abnormal child who is nothing but a burden.
Fortunately, her mother does not have to worry about that anymore.
She has left this ‘burden’ to fend for herself now.
If only ‘this burden’ knew how.
Not that her mother was much of help when she was alive.
Her mother was pretty useless too.
And maybe that’s why Natalie doesn’t really feel much difference emotionally now that her mother has gone.
The only thing that bothers her is that she needs to cook and clean herself from now on.
He told me my scars weren't beautiful
And I told him that no one could ever really admire a masterpiece
Without taking a few steps back
Your scars make you who you are and no matter what you are beautiful
Everyday I lose pieces of myself.
Looking back to a couple of days ago,
I found myself lost in the "whys"
Of my previous love
Or was it just a fling?
Like: "why wasn't I enough?"
"why did you stop answering my messages?"
"Why didn't we work?"
and "why can't I move on?"
Like "why am I still hypnotised to the sound your footsteps made
The last time you walked by?"
And "why, why the hell does this feel like I'm singing the same old song?"
"Why doesn't this feel new?"
Looking back to a couple months ago
I found myself rummaging through the remains of your mind
Trying to decipher the meaning behind everything you do.
Why one minute you love me and the next you don't.
Why one minute you're a book,
Free to open and to read
And the next, you're a closed door,
With a lost key.
I keep losing myself.
I lost pieces of myself in you
I should be used to this
But the thing is,
I had hoped to find myself in you.
Don't lose yourself in people things places or anything. It's not a nice feeling
I've always wanted to stand OUT you know-
be d i f f e r e n t.
Be that pencil in a box of crayons,
Or that one fish out of the water,
Who swears that he can survive on land.
I've always wanted to be like you.
Walking with your own feet,
Dancing to your own beat.
I try to be free but,
I'm caged in this frame:
This skin, these bones,
I'm caged in this cage.
But still mentally slaved
Different is rebellious
Thinking d i f f e r e n t is insane.
Not knowing even though "different",
You're still the same.
I admire you
Because you're the person I often try to be,
The person I want to be
You're a queen.
I could say I am a ball of contradictions,
confusions and delusions
But I'm no ball,
I'm no perfect shape.
I'm just pieces of different debris
And forsaken things,
Like the broken arm off a kid's doll
In attempts to make something.
And in attempts to make something of myself,
I lost you and
I came up with nothing.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror
But all I see is an empty, yet full frame.
I feel so empty,
I've left you in people and things
I've worn myself out trying to find you
and I'm tired.
I'm empty, yet full.
Full of things that aren't me
Full of little pieces I've kept from many old you's
Hoping to one day find the real you.
I'm tired, tired of roaming in different directions,
Spinning in different circles
And scaling hills and valleys,
To find you
I'm tired of looking in empty trashcans,
And through the cracks in sidewalks,
And in people,
To find you.
I'm tired of seeking and not finding.
Dear old self, can you stop hiding?
This game of hide and seek is getting pretty tiring.
The sweetness of first love
Pulls and tugs at your heart
Emotions riling and snarling in your ear
The sweet flavor is replaced with a bitter
Thing also called
Because it never lasts