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May 2016 · 835
Eyes Cold
shryl May 2016
will you only have eyes for me?
i don't mean eyes as in looking at other storms
i meant eyes as in am i the only
one that you give that gaze to?

deep brown pools of pain.
pain that makes me
want to hold you and not let go.
pain that makes me
want to kiss you a thousand times and more.

eyes that melt me
and i let myself fall into them
but then feels cold whenever i stayed too long.
Mar 2015 · 464
Untitled
shryl Mar 2015
i am calling dibs,
you’re mine.
will the Universe hear my plea?
Oct 2014 · 383
them.
shryl Oct 2014
they wore u down like trucks and cars
on fast highways.
but all u could think about was her.
and him.
and all of them.
them.
Sep 2014 · 302
Untitled
shryl Sep 2014
i remember setting myself on fire
cause i loved the warmth
but it got out of control
and i was the one burnt.

and after all that
i never blamed you
for the ******* ashes left in my hands.
May 2014 · 429
Untitled
shryl May 2014
i keep your hold on my wrist
because it makes me feel, things i have never felt

i keep your hold on my wrist
because it lets me know, i am here

i keep your hold on my wrist
because i learned, that love can be cruel

i keep your hold on my wrist
because although it hurts, i know i’m alive

i keep your hold on my wrist
because it reminds me, i have felt happiness

i keep your hold on my wrist…
Jan 2014 · 315
Untitled
shryl Jan 2014
Weary mind on an empty bottle
No there's nothing left to spill so
you spit
words that has no meaning.
Rhetoric.
Dec 2013 · 394
.
shryl Dec 2013
.
Fill the salt jar full and let it spill.
Broken mirrors and endless tears.
Dec 2013 · 1.1k
Psych Class Rambles
shryl Dec 2013
I just sit here and I stare at the white washed walls and I think "hey, these walls are boring."
But Psychology is just another subject and I'm just another student.  
Hmm, Lunch time. McDonalds, Nandos and Dominos. I want them all. It's bad but I want them. You say, "just indulge my child."
"No."
"Once in a while."
"I can't"
"JUST DO IT!"
Oh hey, which reminds me I need a  new pair of shoes. But then I remembered again that I don't have any money cause I spent them all on cigarettes and cab fees.
To remedy this, sometimes I work selling merchandise for concerts and then I spent them on more cigarettes and cab to go home which brings me back to square one.
Oh well.
I will starve this lunch out then.
Sep 2013 · 378
again
shryl Sep 2013
i wish i have never kissed you
because now
i crave for your lips so much more
than before

that kiss that i regretted
and wanted so bad and finally gotten

and now my thirst gets worse
with every passing second

to feel your lips
pressed
against mine again

******* kiss me again
and make me want more
again
and again
Aug 2013 · 609
20 in 2012
shryl Aug 2013
Thrown into this stream of life
Drowned in rhetoric
For the money, for the system
What is that we are living for?

Molded by the system
Back to sand and earth we go
Liquor bottles and cigarettes
Wasted away, do you feel the buzz of life?

Joints after joints, I droned on about life’s meaning to you
And you to me
And ahhh, the ecstasy of ecstasies!
Hit after hit, again and again

The moon fades
As we smile, laugh and cry
Cry ‘til we hear nothing
But our own heartbeat

Ba-dup ba-dup ba-dup

On and on it beats
To loud electronic music
And we dance
Like we fear the first ray tomorrow will bring

Ba-dup ba-dup ba-dup

Now tell me
What happens when it all stops
I wrote this last year. I was 20.
Aug 2013 · 650
Pretty lashes
shryl Aug 2013
she had pretty lashes
that clung to even prettier eyes
that made me feel insecure
of my own

but i couldn't look away
until the next time she caught me again

stolen glances were all i will ever have
with her
Jun 2013 · 536
Blue
shryl Jun 2013
If you asked me how I feel,
I would answer you "I feel blue".
I don't get why they call it
"feeling blue".
I don't think I ever will.
Coincidentally,
blue happens to be your
favourite colour too.
I love blue.
You love blue.
But I still don't know why
they call it "feeling blue".
Jun 2013 · 929
Chapter 1
shryl Jun 2013
Found someone new and I lost the old me.

I miss that little girl that's locked up screaming to be free.

Find that little girl and hug her tight.

She's weeping, trying to keep her head up high.

HA HA HA. HAHA.

Those laughter rang in her ears since she was five,
 when the kids in kindergarten called her ugly.

Until now, it still haunts her.

Those words slowly became the monsters that she came to love.

Because they become her shield.
How can she love herself when she loves the monsters in her head more?

When she can't bring herself to run away from them.

When she listens to them and shut out the ones she holds dear to.

And these people who actually LOVES. HER. BACK.

And before she can love another, she needs to love herself. FIRST.

She. Is me. I, am her.

I have been mourning for these monsters for a while now.

I realized I need to **** them before they **** me.

Before they make me **** that little girl that is crying but is trying to fight her way back.

These monsters have been a part of me that I have been holding on.

I used to hide behind them whenever I feel insecure.

They helped me build a wall to cower and cry behind.

They helped me disconnect myself from the world.
So that the rest of the world can feel comfortable.

Being disconnected gives you time to think.

Loneliness breeds thoughts.

Guess the **** what?
No more of that *******.

My impression is here so stay.

My footprints will forever be marked behind me,
whether I like it or not.
And I think that I need a small spot for my footprints.

For me.

ME.

I crave for understanding and support.

I crave for genuine embraces.

I will explore.

Anywhere, everywhere.

Anything, everything.
And maybe you,
someday, one day.
My thirst for genuine affections
are driving me insane
but is inhibited my angst.

Because…
How do I explain to my mother that her only daughter,
her only child is one confused mess.

I like girls.
I like boys.

I might not like girls.
I might not like boys.

Maybe I like both.

Maybe I am just blind…to gender.
One way or another,
I have come to accept that it doesn't really matter.
Whichever way, I go, it's okay.
I want to stop apologizing for cussin’ around.

Because to me they are ******* appropriate.
I am ******* tired of having to be sorry for being me.

I am ******* tired of having to be censored.
Just because some people think that
my orientation is an abomination to the population,
blaming people like me for the demoralization of the institution just because they are the ones without proper education.
But **** that, this is my identification.

I will never know when the time is right,
so I'm putting the hourglass into someone else’s hand.
I guess I will let time do its job.
For now, I am happy with our
awkward little conversations.
You deserve to know that I am just flattered of your existence.
And y’know what?
I think you do a ******* good job at that.
I want you to exist beside me.
To hold my hand in public
and not care about offending anyone by doing so because it shouldn't.

For now, I am holding on to the hope
that maybe you will accept me one day.
I feel things that I don’t understand when I’m with you.
******* kiss me out in the streets.
When our eyes met,
fireworks lit up in my chest but at night
those monsters put them out like rain
I trip over these feelings but hold them back because
of my fear of rejection.
Because I want to be good at being good to you.
Taking out these monsters may all need a lot work but I got time.
I performed this for a Spoken Word session during an art festival in college. It was my first time going up on stage as well. Was a big step I've taken and I can't help but feel slightly proud of myself. :)

— The End —