I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all you possess.

I wish you enough hellos
to get you through the final goodbye.

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all you possess.

I wish you enough hellos
to get you through the final goodbye.

it isn't really that
GREAT
without you
being with me

my room smells like that sandwich
i bought home
because of the fear of
loneliness

that sandwich
with
cold bacon
baked with temporary warmth.
spiced
with sweet onion
mayonnaise
honey mustard
which flavours fill the emptiness.
healthy-ised it with
lettuce
tomato
cucumber
onion
to make the most out of things.

my room smells like that sandwich
i bought home
because of the fear of
*loneliness

my fear
is in my inability
of putting together a combination
of 26 letters
that has the ability
to encompass the surging thoughts
the infinite possibilities
and to bring to me
a certain combination of numbers
I hopefully long for.

"it's been said that
everlasting friends
go long periods of time
without speaking
and never
question their friendship.
These friends pick up
like they just spoke yesterday
regardless of how long it has been
or how far away they have lived,
and they don't hold grudges.

They understand life is busy but
love is always there."

This tough time we are going through now
it's a fight.
but this fight
is mostly for others
more than for ourselves.

The serious teammate we have?
She's probably fighting for the passion she has
fighting for her other teammate,
who has one of the biggest dream ever.

That dream that I admire the most
because at least she has a clue
what she wants in her life.

I admire her
there's so many times when she said that
her dream was crushed
but she worked hard towards it anyways.
(because guess what, her dream will come true some day)

The last teammate
She's probably fighting for her lost hours
for her revision
and maybe
fighting for her club.
Maybe she's fighting to prove that she isn't always a
failure

I don't know what they are fighting for,
and I don't think I ever will know.

And there's me
I think

I know what I'm fighting for.

For my teammate's passion
and my second teammate's dream
and my last teammate's will to never give up.

To prove that
this week
of annoyance
frustration
stress
is all worth it.


and
For the invaluable friends we have
crossed path with.

this stress
is making me a mess

tears of anger
frustration
annoyance
impatience
desperation

d
       r    
    i
         p
      d
       r    
    i
         p
d
       r    
    i
         p

Savour the elegance of the little things.
They ferment to craft the essence of us.
They make up to melodies our soul sings.

It’s watching dust caught in the light cycling
through windows where I was first made breathless.
Savour the elegance of the little things.

Drizzles in summers and storms in springs.
When crickets chirp to the air’s dampness.
They make up to melodies our soul sings

The way we feel our whole body smiling
as our veins are pumped with pure happiness.
Savour the elegance of the little things.

The little many music notes dancing
Gives us life and fills our deep emptiness.
They make up the melodies our soul sings.

When you are lost and there’s no one else leading
These little things will be your close compass
Savour the elegance of little things,
They make up to melodies our soul sings

Silver*

is a lot like the night when the gentle moonlight shone through my windows
and I swore it was perfect for a slow dance —
those kind of dances when you feel every molecule of your twirling and swaying;
those kind of dances when you dance to your own music –
legato and occasional staccatos during moments
when you close your eyes and feel the world beneath your feet skip to your beat;
those kind of dances you swore that you could win the title “best dancing couple”
even if you were dancing alone
because your best accompaniment is often yourself.
Silver is a lot like when we wished on that 1111 moment together and
you said you wished for me to be happy,
it may have just been a simple wish but
it sent this tingling feeling down my spine
and I could feel my heart thumping (lub dub lub dub),
pumping the pure essence of happiness into my veins.
Silver is a lot like the day when we first met,
when our eyes first met in this 2 second glimpse
that made the little butterflies in my stomach go crazy.
It’s what I remember my dreams to be.
Sprinkled with glitter
and how I woke up to the freshness of the previous night.
Silver is watching darkness engulf the place where I took a little stroll,
I remembered the crickets chirping to the dampness of the air,
I remembered how the wind caressed my face with it’s soft touch,
I remembered the trickling of the river water
which carried with it so much potential and brilliance.

I remember.

What if every human being existing
are all creations of
a large
large
LARGE
factory?

In factories,
there's such thing called
quality variation.

Which means
there's a range of quality in the things made.
So there's this section of things that are
in fantastic quality. (minority)
Another section of things which are okay. (majority)
and the last section are things which are of
terrible quality. (minority)

hah no they don't just throw those terrible ones away
they keep them there.
so the good ones will seem even better.
contrast you see.

ahh
I believe I'm the one of bad quality.

the last thing you can ever allow someone to do
is to allow them to control your happiness

U      


                                 S



drifting apart.

cuts break skin
and cuts break heart

put that blade down
do it for me please
i may not be significant or helpful
but
do it for me please.

please.
really.

You once asked me
"Don't you feel lonely?"
with all my words
and actions
that has caused people anguish.

Yes
Now I do feel lonely.
You are satisfied aren't you.

Recently two of my friends had problems
with themselves
I know it's really hard for them.
Feeling inadequate
worthless
useless
ugly
horrible.
I feel that way too
all the time.

I just got down to write one whole page of long message
for the two of them.
They teared.
For once I actually felt like I did something write
I actually felt like I was loved
I actually felt like I was a good friend.
(but this feeling went away as soon as it came).

I realise that
I can't go
battles
journeys
fights
with themselves and everything else.

But I promise
I will be standing by their side
to give them support
to lend them a hand
to put a smile on their faces
to let them know that they are still worth it
to let them know they are loved
to let them carry on
to give them strength.

:-)

You know how you try to hold water in your hands
but the water always slips away?
And then you try and try and try
to make sure the water doesn't slip away.

It's never ending,
no matter how many times it slips away,
the next time we try,
we would do it again and again to make sure it doesn't.

Maybe it's the same for love.
Well,
similar
not same.

When you try to hold love in your hands,
no matter how big your hands are
or how tightly your fingers are put together
love will still slip
through those small little gaps
you will never be able to cover.

But as love slips,
unlike water,
it leaves a
wound
scratch
abrasion.
And even if time heals them
the next time we try to hold love in again
it will still slip away
leaving us with
hurt
agony
pain.

That's how love works,
merciless with side effects like
rejection
conflicts
misunderstandings
over thinking
over caring
leaving you with indescribable pain.

But at the end of the day
the love left in your palms
is the love we deserve
for trying so hard

came up with this analogy with you and I swear it cheers me up every time I think of it

:-) is such a misleading face.

one

Let's just say that
:-) is Tom Riddle
and
:) is Voldemort
Same being,
but they exist as different people,
different statuses,
different motives and
their existence have different effect on people.

two

:-) is the face of a snowman
: are the eyes
- is that dry, swollen carrot
) it the smile the children the children put on to the snowman's face because they love their snowman to look happy

how does it feel though,
when it's alone in the wide field of snow and cold probably without anyone else to accompany them?

how does it feel
when it watches children play in the beautiful winter snow and can't join in
when the only thing is can do is watch and risk getting attacked

how does it feel
when it leads such a transient and short life
and all it does is stand there quietly

that's when you came in*

how does it feel
when it sees the smiles put on children's faces,
feeling their warmth and delight
as they play among the soft white blanket of winter chill,
when it listens to the melodious festive songs
playing in the neighborhood
soothing its soul,
when the aroma of the warm food
wafts through the air and
lands on its lovely carrot nose with a silent hiss?

**blessed.

I regret so much bringing you on to that
train
I felt like a fool
a useless friend
a mean person
who did not understand.

I regret so much losing you in the crowd
but I tried to find you
Saw you and your gray jacket
Red Bag
Lovely long hair
disappearing into the crowd
that was swallowing you.

I regret so much to not being a good friend
who listens
and tries to understand
and keep quiet.

My apologies if I kept asking you
for a reason and
if you were
okay.

I was really scared.
I cried.

I can honestly say that
I'm not back in the state where I wrote poems
because that
may bring me back to the state
in which I become sadder and sadder
every single day
in which I think more and more
as seconds tick by
in which I sink deeper and deeper
into that abyss.

I honestly need someone to listen,
but no one is ever there.

I put walls up,
   not to keep people out,
      but to see who cares enough to knock them D
                                                               ­                     O
                                          ­                                          W
                     ­                                                                N

It must be hard to have me as your older sister.
It must be.
I call your cute little jokes "lame",
and ignore you when you tell me about your fantastic school day.
I refuse to hug you to sleep at night
even if you're afraid of the darkness that could swallow you up anytime.
I order you to do things around and you do them but
when you ask me to do things, I don't.
You try to get me to stop paying attention to my phone and
start paying attention to your piano pieces.
You try to get me to stop lying around all day and
start going to swim with you.
You ask me all the time:
"Can you go swimming with me?"
I always reply:
"No, I've got work/I'm lazy/. Go swim yourself."
And I don't understand that when you keep calling your friend over
it's because you feel lonely
She's the one who listens to you
play with you
talk to you
when I don't.
Well maybe I didn't understand that when I said:
"Why is she coming over again? You guys play like every single day. Do your work."
You try to make me happy by telling me interesting things.
I silence you out when you do that,
popping in my earphones
and you just sit there quietly.
It must be hard to have me as your older sister.

It must be hard to have me as your daughter.
I talk back 99% of the time just to prove I'm right,
because I am so thick-skinned I wouldn't actually admit even if I'm down right
wrong.
I always change my mind the last minute,
leaving you panicking and worrying about what to do.
I treat my younger sister badly, being really mean to her,
I don't understand how we are both precious to you
You don't want to see any of us getting
hurt.
You work so hard for me
I don't come out of my room to say hi to you when you come home
You bought a new wifi network set for me
when I kept complaining that the current set wasn't working
when it was just my fault for using it
too much.
You meticulously worked to come up with a nice study table design for us
I complained that your laptops were taking up too much space
and you moved it away to the living room
where you could only use it while standing.
You didn't say anything about it.
It must be hard to have me as your daughter.

It must be hard to have me as your friend.
I blast at you
and treat you like a punching bag
not being sensitive to your feelings.
I make you worry about me even when I have hurt you.
I tell you what I feel so frankly and
you get hurt.
You tell me you're always there to listen
yet I never listened to you.
You always notice when I'm about to fall down into that deep abyss of the unknown,
yet when you're falling I still can't find a rope to help you up.
You try to watch videos with me and
I move my attention to my phone.
It must be hard to have me as your friend.

People tell me that I have
pretty eyes
they say they are
beautiful.
Honestly i don't like them
I find them weird
and of an odd shape.
I hate how they just LOOK, and not SEE.
I hate how they don't notice things.
I hate how I overlook things that have happened.
I'm not good at noticing stuff that happen to the people around me.

Sometimes they even show the painful emotions that
I don't want anyone to know that they actually exist.


People say I have a sweet smile.
I hate how my chin protrudes out when I smile
I hate how my jaw looks
I hate it


And I hate how it hides away the painful emotions.

You see,
my eyes and my smile contradicts.
because that's how I feel
right here
right now.
Contradiction.
Dilemma.
Doubt.
I actually don't understand my emotions.
I don't understand why I feel certain ways sometimes.
But sometimes, sometimes is always.

Sometimes
When there is suddenly this little lump in my throat
and my vision goes blurry
I tell myself:
"It's okay."

I don't realise that I have been lying to myself for
way
too
long.
Truth is
"It's not okay."

I watch sad videos in front of you guys
and cry
and then I realise that it's not the video that's
sad.
It's because they are excuses for me to cry.

I know people care for me
I know people worry about me
I know people want me to change
I Know.

So I'm really sorry guys,
I've been holding these emotions for way too long
way
too
long.
Trying to lie to myself that everything is fine
Trying to tell myself that things will get better
Trying to tell myself that it's okay.

I've been trying.
I really have.
I've been trying to fake a smile through everything
Doesn't mean I don't say anything,
I don't feel anything.
I know you guys are hurt by me too
and that I shouldn't blast at you
and treat you like punching bags
but
honestly I don't want it to happen too.

You guys say I can always confide to you
and you guys will always be there for me
but there's too many things I need to say
and these words form that little lump in my throat.
I can't find anyone I can confide to.
"My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations."
They all have their own problems and the last thing I want
is to have them worry about me.
They worry when I hurt them too
and I don't want that to happen.


So I guess I'll just keep quiet.


I'm sorry guys,
I'm not going to say anything about my problems
and not say anything mean to you.
Don't worry about me anymore.
I will let that little lump in my throat
get washed away from the tears
and the little streams of optimism I still have.
Though these streams are drying up
from the emotions that have continuously been
heated up.

Her words were like the edge
of knives
threatening my throat
She came down at me
Continuously
Unceasingly
Endlessly.
and everything black and white would
spill in the form of mauled speech.
and I
would be left in a pool of words that could craft
the speech of a joker.
And these... knives
not only gave me continents of pain with just its paper fine edge
but took away my dignity on the horizon of its merciless surface.

The sight of him won't knock me off my feet like Alp's wind,
but just enough to make baby breaths blossom
at the edges of my heart.
But baby breaths don’t last long.
for they wither with every second I float up
to the surface of realization, a realization of how stupid I was,
to let myself fall into the dark depths so easily.
He hated how I looked.
He hated how I laughed.
He hated how I’m so loud.

They treated me as an outcast.
It was just because I couldn’t quite tame my hairstyle,
Couldn’t quite do a proper split.
Couldn’t quite get satisfy everyone's idea of a perfect skirt length.
Couldn’t quite paint my nails without getting some out of the pale pink space.
Couldn’t quite have a meal and not ending up having greasy lips.
They wore hair spray that suffocated me with trend and fake personalities.

People ask me
Is there really not a single thread of grudge restraining at your heartstrings?
Why don't you push her head and force her to drown in her own insults?
Why not ruffle up his hair and tell him this fitted him better than his cheap hair gel?
That their hair sprays and make-up were just explicitly a futile effort?

I answer them
Indeed, there are grudges restraining at my heartstrings
But an eye for and eye makes the world go blind.
Though I care for my dignity
In which she has torn apart
My confidence
In which he has demolished
My reputation
In which they have successfully destroyed,
I have found boldness to forgive them.

I looked at her,
Everyone labeled her mean.
She hurt everyone that came her way too
With her crude words
But no one saw
The cuts on her wrists,
How her eye bags got worse each day
And how she starved herself each day,
Getting scrawnier as the clock ticks by.

I glanced at him,
He has never gotten good grades
I know he is working really hard
To make his parents happy
But
I wonder if his parents work hard for him or
If they drink a lot or
If they are too demanding
I know his shoes have holes in them because
When it rains he always complains about wet socks.
Maybe he feels so out casted because he has too little.

I stared at them as they walked down the hallway
Everyone sees them strutting
But deep inside, they are running
Running away from the lives that they have been living in for too long.
Parents who each have 70% of their body fluid made up of alcohol
Some of them don’t even have a complete family they can go back home to.
Running away wasn’t easy
When their feet are bind by the immense pressure
Of an incomplete family
They could only find comfort in the weaknesses of other people
And indulging in a fake persona

Bold from all the insuppressible emphasis
To let go
Those words and actions
Were untold stories
That only their pride could hide
And they might not know
For I don't need to read them inside out
Just turn them over, watch their back, read their blurbs, and learn that no matter how terrible, every story is a story worth to appreciate.