There is an unwriteable in my life,
An unspeakable in my mouth,
An undreamable in my sleep.
Such a hurt,
That I cannot even skirt
Around it, hint at what
The unpermitted is.
A blank space in my head
Once remembered,
Now consumed.
As a doe absorbs her kittens,
I unlearn myself,
Unwritten from existence,
And unspoken evermore.

Why do i always have to be told
Though indirectly,
but told,
so ******* sarcastically,
with those irritating grins and giggles
'' you know what? you should take part in the beauty contest "

When all i know is that
they have a good reason to
make me feel so on cloud nine for a minute
and down crashing on the ground
with a thud,when i sooner or later
will realise,
no, I've got scars, I've got marks, I've got bruises,
I've got frizzy hair,I've got a skinny bodytype
I've got ordinary clothes, I've got no good pair of heals,like you do.
I dont have the talents to put
makeup on..
duh.


You know it all too well.
i know it,too.
Still,you wanto say it on my face,so that it hits me harder
the time I see myself in the mirror wearing clothes
i feel will make me look alright,just alright.
and then i enter the classroom
seeing all of you guys to be staring at me,
saying,''pooh,you look awesome''
I know why,i know it.

And then as more chicks start to enter,
All I'd want would be to tear my outfit from the middle
throw it away,
rub off that kohl I tried to roughly apply
to kinda accentuate my tiny Asian eyes.


Because all of you guys
look so **** perfect.
so gorgeous.
so rich.
so what we say CLASSY
so IT.

When'll I be enough?
am i always gonna wear those nerdy glasses,
slick back my bangs from my forehead
that hides my scars ..
wear the oversized, boring sweaters,
and pants and shoes,and with books by my side .
Am i never going to be like y'all?

that others want to be like.
who look upto them.

when someone'll be like, ''i wanna be like her"
Can i never be that 'her' ?
can i never get a compliment?
Can i never hold the crown?
or that sachet ?
or the flowers?
or the teddies?
or the hamper?

NO?

i must rather abide with my
unlucky,
hopeless,
shady,
dusky, good-for-nothing
weird life?

Can i never make something out of it,
with my appearance appreciated?
even from people who matter,
from people who live with me
under the same roof?
can ,for once and for all,
i be made feel
enough............
?

Like a beautiful flower
That has deadly hidden thorns
waiting to strike
To end the life that has just been born
To drain it fast
To **** it dry
To watch the life wither away
Like when winter comes this way
Kills all the life that was once warm
Just because it was bored
That beautiful flower
Kills all that it sees
Because life to it
Is like a annoying bee

I have spaces between my fingers
And scrapes along my knees
And there are cracks between my lips
Where empty words are breathed
Now can you see - that i am not complete?
Im waiting for your arrival
and when you come, please do not leave