The girl was only eleven,
when she first thought

                            "What if I went?"

When even escaping
to magic-filled hardcovers
could not ease her descent

School bullies were not all
that pulled her
towards the yawning void,
on eggshells she walked
around him,

being careful not to flip
his switch
He'll twitch -
see red
It filled her with dread
Better to stay tight lipped -

                Better to be...

                                     His pet

and my question for you tonight
what are you most scared of
in the pale moonlight
when you're by yourself
and you imagine a life where there isn’t any fear
what do you wish you wouldn’t have to bear?

i’ll start, i guess—
i’m scared of loud noises
people screaming
put me in direct contact
and i’ll lose all my feelings

i’m scared of broken ceramics
violence, hitting, cursing, breaking
i remember tea stains on the walls
pieces of a once whole, beautiful cup
strewn about, broken everywhere

i’m scared of the heights
only on days when i feel just too light
that i might just let go
what if i fall and what if there’s nothing that’ll hold me back
or a ledge to hold on

i’m scared of the compact
too many monsters all at once
perhaps i’ll crack
a pressure, eyes upon me
i could disguise, pretend
but i hate all that i see

i’m scared of losing all this kind
of losing who i am
and this battle in my mind
going cross-eyed even as i write
i’m scared of failing, falling,
not being able to swim back up
simply drowning

i’m scared of loving too much
perhaps enough and never being loved back
and it could be a lie or an irony
but i’m scared of nursing a broken heart
or breaking one myself
for i wouldn’t want it
wouldn’t want to see the mess
but it happens, happens way too much
and i have to play pretend

i’m scared of speaking
of what if you see the hidden meanings
of what if you just don’t— and ignore me
what if i speak, and there’s nobody to listen
and even if they do listen, what if i burden

i’m scared of being lost
in the depths, in the lows,
not being able to express does that to you the most
and i fear losing
losing all that i’ve built
every step i’ve taken
every memory i’m sewn in
all the moments out of time i’ve milked
to the very last drop
feelings i’ve penned down, every last thought

i’m scared of— not being enough
perhaps i am not
but even so— i deserve to exist
exist without a doubt or second thoughts
and i shall revoke anyone’s rights
don’t make me feel like it might
be better if i ceased to exist
i fear it and i fear what if a day comes
when i can’t write, listen, see or speak

and what if i lose
lose you, and what if i get punished
for things i haven’t even done but simply being blamed for
and what if you see me with the eyes that carry despise
hatred perhaps, i fear what if a day comes
and i just don’t see you anywhere or here, in fact

i’m scared of a lot more
of being left behind
overlooked, perhaps thrown to the side
never healing from things i can’t even speak of
and perhaps staying the same
missing out, accidentally meeting upon accidents
that could become part of the worst nightmares or
failing, falling on dreams and been a betrayed chore

the list goes on
but i can’t speak it out loud
or answer it when i ask you all about
what are you scared of?
so i just say spiders, and move on.

I know that bird is still inside me
chirping away
ruffling its feathers
waiting to get out
it’s getting impatient
too long has it been locked up
unable to stretch its wings

it’s pecking at the walls
battling
some days it breaks a hole
it peeks out and sees the light
then almost instantly that whole closes back up
back in darkness the bird goes

other days it’s even further trapped
not even enough space to move it screams to get out and then gets silenced again
the dark keeping it in its place

but someday
someday it hopes to get out and be free once more finding its wings on the wind again

Cold, cold ice,
And a

Roll of dice,
Do you

Hear the cries
Of the
Scamp’ring mice

Running
For their lives,

Biting
Down two lies,

And a
Broken

Set of
Eyes.

She lingers where the silence sleeps,
In breathless hums and eyelid weeps—
A ghost in velvet funeral threads,
Dancing in the static of my head.

I dream her drowned in mirrors cracked,
Smiling with the eyes I never get back.
She speaks in tongue, in fevered sighs,
Each word a wound beneath disguise.

My fingers twitch with phantom touch,
Starved for her... it’s far too much.
She bleeds in shapes across my skin,
And still I beg to let her in.

She once was light—but light decayed,
Now she's the price I always pay.
A veiled eclipse, a lover’s curse,
She’s the better half of every worse.

No pulse—just rhythm, raw and slow,
A symphony of undertow.
I kissed the rot behind her grin,
And built a shrine beneath her sin.

She isn't mine.
She never was.
But I was hers,
And still... because—

The scars she drew are vines, divine.
I drink the venom, call it wine.
She is the ache I can’t outlive.
She took what love refused to give.

She isn't real.
But she's the only thing I feel.

Last night I opened the door to a fear I do not know,
a stranger from the street.
Its overwhelming silhouette now casting over my feet.

It greeted me like a neighbour,
tightly gripping at my hand,
a warmth not becoming of the spectre I did not understand.

For my life I've carried this scar.
A symbol of my mother's mercy,
A blessing of a life for which others have been thirsty.

I quietly parade it in defiance,
that slender crescent moon,
rising from my skin so as not to be forgotten.

Now I stand at the doorway of my conscience
and warily make acquaintance,
with the helpless fear that long feasted on my mother's patience.

Am I too young to miss the past
Am I too old to enjoy the rain
Too young to notice the change
Too old to be immature

Or maybe too young to think when to blink
in fear I’ll miss the bliss if I stop to think

Or maybe age isn’t real
Just there to control when we do what
When we should be embarrassed to cry,
or when to start to live our lives,
and with a blink of an eye
you’re caught barely alive,
wore out from existence of time

i'm like when 2 am ferociousness met with 5 am alarm
smudged off the **** nuance off the corner of my lips in the dark

back home, drained, phone lighting up except it's not who i missed
make changes, perfect the scars — wipe out the traces that exist
feels like a music video, no cameras anywhere in sight
but i feel them watching, and with every reflex i hope to hide

multiple versions like blind spots behind the walls
were the masks always as potent as planned for them was?

surreal sometimes, watching it slip
i pull the cloak over, can't let it flip
for even a second, for it carries my whole identity
if they truly saw — saw truly for who i am
i don't think they'd even recognize me
faking pills, anti-calamides, the entirety of my existence
look at pictures on my walls, to lose grip over any remaining hesitance

it's in stages
when it happens
undoing my skin, zipping it down and stepping out to breathe
during the nights when it gets as real as it can
i look at my wardrobe, it's filled with masks
who should i be for the day? choosing is a dire task
one that i must achieve, tally all the previous repeats
and it's never the same — midway through, i have to tear myself apart to hold my coop

signs, watch for them
like ants leaving behind a trail to follow
dropping crumbs even tho all they wish to do is swallow
can't carry it all, no matter how much they can borrow
there's moments when it flickers
everything bare just for a second and the world seems to hold
as if waiting, hide it away — telling me — hide yourself whole
this is your chance, run, or settle down
wait, or burn yourself out
extinguishing a flame is impossible when you give the oxygen
give it all to aggravate
in the end, how dare u cry for all the mess it made?
can't kiss the flame, why get close to it in the first place?

there's rainbow fumes slipping through the blacks
the radio playing the album's sixth track
the board up says take right
but there's a figure standing right midway
vision turning bright red, it flashes white
x-rays me through, i can't see the eyes
but they tell me a tale i've long since held
been rotting in the prison for so long
even the wind seems to snap

your eyes speak
like butterflies held in watery imagery
like that one store open 24/7 for the hungry
resembling a payphone hanging off its cord
the voice echoing, "knock knock knock"
you loom in between the dimensions
almost floating, with dragonflies in your palms
stretched out towards me
there's a puddle of rainwater on the ground
a gas burner bright blue and white in the faded background
the screens flash with errors and figures
they walk past, like fishes swimming in an aquarium
the neons slip through the eyes
irises fading into a silvery crash
thousands of people drift by
barely a hundred holding hands
distance separates, time forgives
forgetting is like looking deep into the liminal
knowing there's no ending to this beginning

the streets aren't all too familiar
the buildings carry lives that speak
their windows tell stories — a dozen different endings
the sunshine falls a certain way
creating grey memories across the streets
do shadows overlap each other?
multiple questions — the answers to which lie in the mist

i could scan your eyes
find the me's that exist, see if u see me the way i do
check for pictures in your wallet, in your camera
in your feed, in your head — on your body, on you
but knowing i can't describe it all
describe them for you, i can't seem to stand tall
i'm afraid for you, seeing you walk out
is perhaps the best chance i can take
but a miserly one at that, it's a coward's mistake

should i count them out?
on fingers, i'd say just three
there's more — but facets to multiple sympathies
the major ones though, i call them the protectors

one exists — borderline deceitful
never aiming to hurt, keeping peace closed off
in a loophole, almost
living in boundaries
closed off, hiding in plain sight
having created doors, windows nailed shut
speaking in controversies
it preaches to protect the soul

there's another —
the publicised centre
lives empathetically
provides requests, hearing pleading
walking epiphanies
the bored, tired, sleepy version
meeting eye to eye
smile for smile
never faking, but never loosening the knots either
tie the loose ends just right

the remaining, the original
is a psychological art house
chaotic, musing, no doubt in the dark clouds
writing warfare of the minds
speaking soft, almost gullible
closest, truest, no boundaries like the previous
she lives as she breathes
grief filled in the soul
with a happy-to-go personality
i believe she's the one
except she hides beneath all that is dust
drifting through the mess she's become
it's calming, silent, wrecking havoc amidst
stench of sugar, candied crushes and humor
psychic tutorials, rafting rows of water
she lives in nightmares,
daydreams — almost as if there were none

It was never that bad —
until it was.
Until I tested my luck
and didn’t pass the spoon.

I wasn’t the “good girl”
I had to be.
And it cost me — heavily.
You say I made you.
I knew the rules.
I broke them.
That's how you want me to think, right?

But I know the truth.
You’re a polar bear
to the unaware.
With your crisp white coat.

But even they slip —
leave blood on that coat.

You forgot to check my phone.
I have a video
of you preying on the weak.

But I won’t show anyone.
I won’t fight.

That’s the difference —
between me and the prey.
The prey doesn’t feel bad
for the hunter.
The prey asks for help.

And I?
I stay.

Your coat stays white.

Just hoping you leave me
alone to fight.