We all have the ability to suffer
when it comes to love.
We all have the ability to get the pain when expectations run away from our brain.
The reality always hits you.
And here I am in.
So let's get all of them create you become an art.
This poem may not get you
but it is better to share with you.
You may not realize who you are now,
until someone tells you,
someone that you didn't know before;
the strangers in your mind.

I'm a foreigner
at the crossroads
what you see from a distance
wave hands
say hello to you.
I've been confused
ever since stand alone in the crowd,
no one sees me
except for a pair of eyes
that is lodged in people's heads
which I never knew before;
and the clouds turn blue but don't hurt flowing right over the head
then the birds rise expel the wind
who had tossed my long hair.
I just stare at them,
hope they don't look at me.
However, the world suddenly stopped. And my world seems to have a limit
to transcend isolation.
I'm a foreigner
at the crossroads,
which has been left behind by old memories,
and when the new comrades have become adept at reading signs,
and therefore we have bonded
like a relationship
that we are not really aware of.
I'm a foreigner
at the crossroads,
greet you as a stranger too,
but now everyone is busy making their own festival,
and don't ask,
I make a festival for whom,
except for the day
when I'm not known anymore.

If you remove darkness inside me how much matter would remain?
Would it be a clean break or would that shadow leave a stain?
The antiques passed through generations only weigh me down
Heirloom weakness and shame parents wore as crowns
Would bring all the way till I crossed the finish line
Their weight is making progress steadily decline
Yet when I try releasing find their grip is way too strong
Have no other choice but drag these heavy burdens along
I fear limbs decay the more time that passes by
Friction wearing holes in flesh
I can't sever ties
A broken soiled reputation all I've seemed to gain
Blessings one by one like drops of water swirled the drain
Under layers of appearance is a piece of myself I rightly hate
Seems to be too large to safely amputate
These cheap thrills have gotten more expensive than platinum and gold
Their toll taken by draining my peace and prematurely making me old
As I held dreams in hand I stumbled and I fell
Shattered as they hit the floor
Hopes more fragile than eggshells
Then clumsy feet only made the mess worse
Every step makes a crunching noise
Wish I could somehow reverse
I never knew growing up would cause me to feel so low
Only when flying too high that I see how far the pavement waits below
The little girl in me died now there's a stranger in her place
Look in mirror and am terrified because the stranger wears my face

The strangers in the past kept staring at me and smiled.
I smiled back at them.
I let myself not forget them.
Their happy face always stays in my mind.
The memories of them give me a chance when I am getting lost and don't have a place to find.
Sometimes I don’t have to choose.
The only things I do only remembering them.
The strangers in the past kept staring at me and smiled.
I am happy with them.
I want to say I have to go but I can't.
I want them to know if it will be a beautiful goodbye.

Flash of a camera goes off and I rush into the shadows, because the picture will look all wrong if I am in it.
Conversations circle my head aimlessly, all connected by a single thread that has slipped from my grasp.
A game of cards that I watch from the sidelines.
Memories are made in front of me and I cannot have a slice of them—they are not mine.
I was there, but they are not mine.
Because you smile when I wave
and I laugh at jokes that I don’t fully understand
and we complain, compliment, communicate,
but you are a stranger to me.
I am a stranger to you.
You, polished jade stone in vicious waters,
yet the waves yield to you
and your iridescence
and all of your beautiful stone companions. I am a pebble who gets caught
in the tide, too desolate to swim back to shore, too afraid to join you in the deep.
I cannot stop fighting the current.
There is no hope for me if I do,
for I will sink, settle on the sandy floor with my back arched and my hands shaking
and join my fellow forsaken, solidified into a gritty brick of aching bones and broken spirits.
I will no longer be your burden. I will be something you do not bother to look at twice.
You will float above me with nothing to haunt you.
But even as I am fighting the current all my life
I am still dissolving
bit by bit.
As though I am destined to fade away no matter how hard I try to stay.

At the very end of the forest you will see
A lonesome silhouette standing in the sea
It seems gazing at the infinite horizon
While bathing under the vivid light of the moon

It was clearly a silhouette of a person
A maiden with a hair that was adored by dawn
And a body of an hour glass in the unknown
Sparkling as though diamond on a podium

But it is not what peaks my curiosity
It was the feeling that surged through me
Like seeing a very candid photography
Void with lies and ambiguity

But when I tried to reach out to the lady
She recoils from me instinctively
Now my thirst to know her identity
Burns in my throat painfully