The irony of a life unshackled -
seemingly an advocate for freedom.

But only to find its beats forlorn,
as it serviced payments for past follies’


ransom.

A nighttime recess.

An awareness embedded
within the thickened folds,
layered - one upon another.

Second upon second.
Minute over minute.
Hour after hour.

Rendering me unheard
and vague.

A stream of consciousness
that runs uncaptured.
Unexplained and unreasoned.

Consistent and tiresome.
Haphazardly predictable.

Routine like
                      clockwork.

.
And I’ll show you
fantastical things.

Come into my head.

Know my wants
and desires.
Witness the height
and raging fires.

.

Calm me down
        with the
               pitter patter of raindrops.

Whisk me away
        with the
               scent of petrichor.

Entice me
        with the
               promise of chance.

Lift me up
        with the
               hope of an open door.

.

I am again...

Caught
              in the then and now.

Blind footfalls
              on the treadmill of life.

With a head
              filled with thoughts
              hands full of nothing
              and a heart full of porcelain.

Sticks and stones...

Thoughts are just
sticks and stones.

But words...
They break bones.

Someday will come for us.
Till then our blemished secrets
and tarnished dreams only lay in wait.

Our hands may now yield nothing...
But “someday” sleeps quiet
at the back of our minds.
Awaiting for enough time to elapse.

Someday can never be rushed.
It can never be summoned.
It will come when it comes
and when it does, we’d hardly notice
it’s arrival because the anticipation
and longing will be replaced by overwhelming happiness and relief.

So wait...
It will come.
Someday “someday” will be today.

I am but a stone
just skipping across a body of still.
I get a taste
yet never fully drenched.
Not until I lose all momentum
and mobility - I sink.

Submerge...

And then drown.

I remember this day…

Looking out the window,
feeling the stray droplets;
Tasting the scent of moisture
as the chill of the soft breeze
laces the deep breaths I take…

As I once did…

I remember this day…
To be one that I’ve lived before.

The hike up the steep grassy knoll was arduous.
My legs had laboured for the heart that yearns.
The peak had called with a chorus of promise;
The lyrics sung of vantage and foresight
and of clarity that burns.

The summit now conquered...
Strained eyes blinked away the sting from
trickling rivulets of sweat.
I was perched atop a boulder anticipating a view
which I had expected different but inadvertently get.

The sun was kind and air was sweet.
I tried to see as hard as my lungs had fought...
But my eyes couldn't puncture the shroud
of fog and mist
that lingered over the future I had sought.

Attention brought back to where I had trudged.
I can't move forward without looking back...
At the path through which I had decided to pass.
Gasping at the result of conscious footfalls and clumsy missteps.
I can't help but regret and weep
over the wake of the devastation,
my reckless feet had made apparent in the grass.

Dark clouds had swelled and usurped the sky.
Invisible ***** of a pin and
the heavens burst into unrelenting sheets.

Walkers hastened and cowered under shelters.
Umbrellas opened over their heads
like a sudden sprout of colourful mushrooms.
Traffic slowed to the mismatched rhythm of heated engines and honking vehicles.

Such chaos...
Such beautiful chaos.

I watched from my seat as my bus got pelted mercilessly.
Copious amounts flowed from the roof forming cascades onto the face of windows.
My view was blurred and tail lights refracted.

Amidst such chaos,
I felt such calmness.

It was a moment that stretched limitless.
It was bliss.
It was peace I haven't felt in a long time.

I wish to be caught in such a moment again.

undoubtedly

                   rock...

with
        brittle
                    skin.

stoked

         fire...

burning
              from
     within...

When words form
but the voice is muted,
strings of sentences -
like loose lengths of yarn,
just swimming...
swirling in the currents
of the wash.

They meet,
they connect,
they get tangled up
with each other.

What had before made sense
now swells larger,
more intricate,
more tiresome.

It all converges
into a ******
as the spin cycle ends.

What’ll emerge
is a convoluted mess.



I’m a mess.

And then,
I get hung out to dry.

The words weren’t daggers.
Weren’t meant to ****.

They were spindly,
like needles.
But barbed.
So they latch.



I’m not grievously wounded.
Yet I’m still bleeding out...

.

Surrendering the blood...

Drawn by dull,
rusty syringes.

Manipulated by
villainous fingers.

Promised elixir
but
peddled drugs.

I deliberate.
I contemplate.
I procrastinate.

Then I write in ink...

In the hopes
of capturing
all that swims unruly
and speaks in runes.

Pop me open
and take look in the trunk.

See that I travel light
but with excess junk.

Too deep in this
I’ve indulgently sunk.

It’s what got me so drunk.
It’s what got me in such a funk.

If the
weight of thoughts
could wear away
the resilience
of the broken bough,

I must’ve done
something terribly
wrong
to feel the way
that I do
right now.

Clutch tight the tail of the sun.
Shed your tethers
and take that ride into the next.

Redeem the possibility
of limitless tomorrows.
Because today was meant to happen
and yesterdays were never meant
to weigh you down.

Feels so heavy this beating stone in my chest
Like an anvil strung up by a thin fraying thread
In my heart, happiness feels like a regular guest
It comes for a while, but always leaves me with dread.

When it leaves, there is void ever so cloying
This void it seems to be adamant on being empty
I'd mope and seem unexcited about anything
I fail to see life and all of it's beauty.

Much dreaded, this feeling of overwhelming miss
Oh I simply hate it when I feel this way
Maybe all I want is if only I had her to kiss
Wishing I'd have more of her time in a day.

I can't think like this, I should not be selfish
I must learn to accept she has her own worth living
Deep down inside, I'm fighting my own skirmish
I'd say it's alright but it seems untrue, to myself I'm lying.

I guess this is the relationship between love and pain
One can't just be without first inviting the other
My innermost and most intimate I so have lain
What I want most, isn't what I'm allowed right now, right here.

I often had wished I was in another time
I always have hoped I'm in a different place
A time where our hearts were speaking in rhyme
A place where we'd forever be face to face.

It's just so hard to be a part of a cruel trick
Seems unjust to be played like little game pieces
The locks to happiness I'd forever try to pick
For happiness is having you loving and embracing me endless.

Hello there
familiar stranger...

Between the waking hours
and persistent unsleep,

you’re still
as much as the chaos
in my head then
as you are now.

When all else
has been
flogged by time,
beaten by uncertainty
and consumed
by the earth...

All that’s left...

Is the salt
disowned by
indulgent cascades.

I have been, I am and I will be documenting the complexities that run rampant within.

It’d be easier if my mind and heart spoke
the same language. Most times they’re in conflict.

So I’ll cope in the best way I know how.
I’ll keep posting...

Because no amount of sentences...
Can succinctly form the verses that fully capture what I see and think.

No amount of metaphors...
Can successfully mask and satisfy what I truly feel.

No amount of poems...
Can accurately draft the blueprint of what and why I am.

Do forgive me for I have fallen far and deep. And for the umpteenth time, I am looking for that window or door so that I could see and taste purpose again.

So please bear with me...
There will be more to come as I indulge in my quest for equilibrium.



Yours in ink,

ryn

.