Adult talk’s to me a curious thing–
The phone’ll ring
And when you pick up, it’ll just be
A choreographed routine
“How long has it been since you’ve called me?”
You discuss your kids, your wealth,
Your job, your health,
But never anything fun.
Nothing. Not one
Word of laughter or joy
(Unless it’s fake).
I wait for someone to make
A joke but never happens
Without being at the expense of us.
Otherwise they just make a fuss
Of Trump and Kamala,
Or other political debates and talks.
Why, how do you just stay and not walk
Away from the conversation?
It seems an obligation
To sit through the meaningless words.
So far, all I’ve heard
From dialogues between grown-ups
Is just useless fodder.
I don’t know why they bother.

I usually hate the violence
Of the senses presented to me–
When the noise and crowd
Is all I can hear and see,
Far too loud
Compared to the silence
You bring
To my mind. Everything
Else just fades in comparison whenever
You and I are together.
There is never
Awkward quiet; that I love.
No spirit from above
Should have given me you–
The one that’s brought me through
Thick and thin
No matter which pit I’ve fallen in.
I can forget about my troubles
When we’re together
In our bubble.

It seems not all cars
Have a place to park
At night, when it’s dark
And everyone’s home is far
From the workplace;
Not everyone has a space
To rest
After being put to the test
Wherever we spent the day.
I’m still looking for my way
To my lot,
Where I can put my thoughts
Aside
And take
A break
Driving on this ride.

In the mornings, I try
To take a look at the sky
While it’s still dark;
While I can still see the stars.
They may be far
From where we are,
But there’s just something
Special, that bling
Next to the occasional moon.
I just hope light pollution’s worsening
Isn’t coming too soon–
The stars are what makes me smile
Before I spend (too long) quite a while
In school. At least I get to see
Something that makes me
Happy.

I’m waiting for you;
Waiting for you to
Appear,
Yet I fear
That you never will.
It’s been twelve years
And you still
Haven’t arrived
In my life.
Where are you, pray tell?
I should know all too well
If you’re here,
But I still don’t think you’re near.

Am I hard to make happy
Or is it that you haven’t found
What triggers me?
Look around
And I’m sure you’ll find
Stressors on my mind
But those aren’t the only kinds
Of strong
Feelings I’ve held onto
For so long.
Maybe my expectations of you
Are higher than you’re used to
But so
What? Deep down I know
That it’s not that everything’s wrong
(Though it’s seemed this way
All along)
But the day
For my to find my right
Has not yet come to light.

It never occurred to me
That is was a door–
Not a wall
At all.
It’s something I can’t unsee:
The door’s not a wall anymore.
Though physically,
This can be;
Why can’t my life be full of doors
Instead of dead ends on every floor?

Sometimes one plus one isn’t two.
Sometimes you
Look
At a person with things
That don’t add up, wondering
Where they took
The excess from.
Because sometimes one
Can skip the work, have fun
With threes
(Sounds familiar to me).
One becomes two
While you lose some value.
So maybe
Two plus zero can equal three
When skills rub off
Accidentally.

I clawed my eyes out,
Then I started to cry.
For although I couldn't see
Anything in front of me;
I could still feel insects' wings
Fluttering around and about
My face,
Every other thing
In this place
Invisible (or is blood nothingness?);
Though the pain I felt brought
One image, one colour to mind--
A sea of red,
Rubber band pulled taut
In my head.
My tears were cried of blood,
Yet I felt the salt trailing
Down my face, my cheeks
As I began wailing.

My sister made
A little rainbow out of clay,
It sits on my desk;
I look at it every day
Though its colours did fade.
It reminds
Me,
It’s just a matter of time
Before I’ll be able to see
The dust, the grey on everyone’s
Face, as if they’ve misplaced
Their joy and fun.
Still, I’ll wish that my
Rainbow will look Age in the eye,
And just have a good laugh.
My colours will stand
Through every wash, by machine or hand.
Air
Won’t be whitening my hair.

It doesn't help when people just
Point out what might be
Literally my biggest insecurity.
They're nowhere near the first
To do so
(And I'm pretty sure they know
It) but it hurts all the same.
Been getting called the same names,
Always losing at this same game.
Fine. Call me billboard face.
Maybe I'd finally have something to do
In this place.
If you say I'm a ******'s dream
You might as well gather a team
To take me out.
You seem to know
What you're talking about.

Everything has got to be the best
Nowadays. For every little test
And exam must we come out on top;
Never must we stop
Working at our every skill;
Take
A break
And everything you're good at will
Just disappear.
Everyone just
Wants what's at the top of Mt. Everest.
I guess I've got to get used to
How it works around here.
Always having to do
More than what you can.
Sometimes I just don't understand
It but every explanation
I get just adds more and more complications
To the tangled mess in my head.
I miss how things were before
Instead.
Nowadays even the karang gunis
Don't want newspapers anymore.

Only
When we
Got the chance to have some fun
Did the clocks speed up;
Day four’s soon going to be
Day one.
Why is it that only
Now’s when happiness
Showed itself to me?
Only at the last few
Weeks do the hues
Finally separate themselves from black
And white.
And only if time might
Turn itself back
Would I have held onto
You
For longer, or just taken more
Time for
That move on the chessboard.
Perhaps I would’ve played less
Of Stress;
Would’ve known not to say yes
To the extra responsibilities
Standing between you and me.
But now
The cards have fallen, I don’t know
How
I can do so
Much in three days–
There are
Far
Too many things I didn’t say.
And now my
Heart aches for the times
That passed by
Where I thought
I’d be happy to leave.
Would it be too late to say
“Guess not”?

There is no hunger in my household,
My country;
Everyone’s worth their weight in gold
Or probably more
For
Singapore’s
Economy is nothing
Short of prospering.
There is no hunger, no thirst, no craving
For anything here– no one’s saving
Food and water anymore
For
Rainy days
(No one does, no matter what they say).
I live my life blessed
But my mind can never rest;
I hunger for peace
Perhaps not of the world for now but simply for my mind.
I look high and low
Within all the drawers and cabinets I know
Of, yet I still can’t find
Anything that might just make me content.
For what I’ve had of life went
By relatively quietly, however nothing could stop my head
From working. Instead
I crave
For peace that I have but just can’t find.
Save
Me from the demons in my mind.

Because all you need is
Practise
To help anybody.
See
Any
Good counsellor in action and really,
It's the same
Comforting words; same
Reassuring actions to beat the same
Game.
It's the routine stand-
Up-place-
Hand-
On-face-
Or- shoulder
To push the same boulder.
Validate the emotions. Talk
Them through walk
ing away
From whatever ruined their
Day.
Put in all your love and care;
Hold their hand; stroke their hair;
Tell them it'll all be fine;
Get them not to lose their mind;
Help them leave the past behind.
It's not a bad thing--
Isn't it reassuring
To have a one-fits-all
Solution? Fall
In and out
Of love; cry about
Exam results; your ex
Found their next
Too quickly;
Unhappy
Is all you can be--
Just go to anyone fit
And perhaps you'd come out
Even a tiny bit
Happier about life
Than you were
When you first arrived.

Sweat
Drips down my forehead.
I regret
Joining this race
In the first place
(Though there’d be nothing else to
Do
Instead).
My whole body
Is on fire; I’m wondering what drove me
To run
At the start.
My heart’s
Used to the sprint, but this one
Is unbearably long.
Why does everyone else look so strong?
Others are
Far
Ahead of my pathetic last
Place. This is the time for me
To be
Running fast,
Yet images of past
Failures (no victory
In sight) is all I can see.
I’m tired.
My throttles have been fired.
Continuing this race is just cruel–
I’ve already run out of fuel.

Eyelids, always too heavy.
Glued for eternity
The moment I snap
Them shut. Then someone’ll clap
Or scream or shout
Their lungs out
Or tap
My shoulder or call
My name before I fall
Asleep. It really makes
No
Difference though–
I wouldn’t be able to take
A break,
Even if I wasn’t awake.

They tell me
So many
Ways to solve my
Problems; days go by
And I hear the same things
Over and over. The people speaking
May be different but it all
Just sounds the same. I fall
For the same tricks again
And again,
Same so-called friends
And my permanent mindset.
You’d think I haven’t tried yet
But the worst part
Is that I’ve taken
The suggestions
To heart;
Tried so many times to start
(Because I know
They would probably make life so
Much better)
But it just never works with me.
They’re probably
Right about needing to reflect.
What else could the problem be?
Because (apparently)
It is always my choice;
Yell in joy or raise my voice.
Because you cannot blame
Others when they make
The same
Mistakes.
Because when they promised they
Wouldn’t, they didn’t mean
What they say.
Because you don’t have the right
To make yourself seen
To society.
No right to influence others,
Even though the people
Still keep tabs on one another.
Because there is no one except
Me that can’t accept
Others for who they are.
Because people you consider close
Have the right to decide
They’ll be far
From your side.
You call it constraints.
I’d like to call it selfish complaints
In their heads
But of course I read
The room wrong.
Because it was my choice
To not be able to be strong
Today.
That’s why I can’t say
No one cares.
Because it isn’t fair
To expect some love
In return when I put you above
Everyone, everything
Else. Because I can’t think
That friends should benefit
From being together. It
Simply
Isn’t right for me
To expect the best from you
Because it was my choice to
Do
It all.
Because when I fall
Down,
I shouldn’t expect anyone around
To actually try and pick
Me up. People’s lives are quick
And busy;
And the only constant
In the friendships falling apart
Is me.
Because being useless,
Talentless
And joyless
Was all my decision.
There is no such thing as imprecision
Here. It’s all you,
Not them. They didn’t do
Anything wrong.
It’s your fault you can’t
Get along.
Constraints apply to them,
Not you.
Don’t even think
Of that excuse.
Go self-reflect on how
You need to change now.
After all, no one has the rights
To tell you
What to
Do.

Because being tall
Also means that you have to be big all
The time for those that are small.
You bend
Down to comfort a friend
Who's being
Vulnerable. All you're seeing
Is the top of their head
While you look like a god to them.
And instead
When you look for
Comfort, reassurance,
Nothing matches your size anymore.
I miss how things were before.

You all tell me I'm born smart.
How you can't take it to heart
When I tell
You to chill-- how I've done too well
To say
That 4 hours a day
Is enough.
How studying
Hasn't been
Rough or tough
For me.
How I should just let
You all get
More stressed without
Trying to tell you about
Just how hard I know
You've worked
And how much I've seen you grow.
How a good friend
Can't attempt to end
Your panicking.
How I'm not lacking
In the areas you
Do.
How I won't understand
Your parents' demands.

I get it.
I really do.
Why else would I be trying
To help you?

Maybe if you took
A step back from your books
Then you'd see
How it didn't all
Fall
In place for me.
How I've put in
The effort needed for a win.
How although I haven't spent
My nights studying, how time went
By in class;
Glass-
Glazed eyes from only staring
At the teachers as they walk past.
Not caring
About how much I carried
The team, just so
Everyone could go
Ahead for an A.
And how they
Never seemed to know
How long I spent in the glow
Of my computer screen.

I know you all don't mean
It. But I've worked hard too.
I do
Understand you.
You know,
In this scenario,
I don't think that I'm the friend
That doesn't comprehend
The stress that's sent you round the bend.

Do
You
Really
Love me?
It’s probably
A me
Problem
But why
Can’t I
See it? Why
Don’t I
Feel cared for
When I text you anymore?
Maybe you
Used to;
Maybe you did
But what got rid
Of those feelings?
Because every time
I’m
Dealing
With you and your
Issues I pour
My heart and soul into
Helping you
But I’ve just
Never been checked on
Without me breaking first.
Always been looked upon
As support for you to lean
Against but that just means
I’ve always carried your weight;
Forever stuck in a stalemate;
Not yet dead
But nowhere to run instead.
Can you tell
How much I love you
And how much I wish you
Loved me too?

Because people get tired of me
Be
ing sad.
Because I only write sad;
Talk sad;
Act sad;
I guess we can cliche
And say my parents are mad
Because of the sad
They have to see every day.
I text sad;
My music is sad;
Days start to blur
Because the days that were
Spent happily
Don't come easily
To me.
I'm tired too.
But what else can I do?
I can't really say
That every day's
A bad
Day
But every day
Has its own sad
Thoughts.
It's true for you
Too,
Is it not?

My Starhub Cyber Protect
Has decided that the Starhub site
Isn't safe. I guess this effect
Was unintended (right??)
But then again, it must be
Doing a great job for people like me;
Unable to
Watch YouTube, do
A Buzzfeed
Quiz, satisfy the need
To scroll on Reddit.
Is it
Just me, or is
This
Just all too
Familiar? Surely you
Know what I mean...
"This site has been blocked" flashing on-screen.
It's just the irony here
That makes it bigger than it appears.

Too many people take
The shortcut home; the one to make
Your journey
No more than thirty
Seconds shorter. It may
Be dirt now, your everyday
Pathway,
But I’d just like to
Bring you
To the past,
When this path was still grass.
When the lawn was green
And lush,
Before people’s needs to rush
Became more
Important than the lives on the floor.
Maybe if you just took
A look
On the ground,
Then around
You for another road,
Then the grass wouldn’t have the load,
The weight of your body on them
Once you step upon them.
Make a pass
On the grass.
Take a different path
To avoid the plant’s bloodbath.

The plasticiser of human flesh–
Influence,
Poured on without filter or mesh.
Swabbed, glazed
Over a body.
The victim left in a daze
While we
Watch (unknowingly? Or not?)
As they rot away,
Day by day.
They’re less brittle,
Yet it seems this plasticiser has little
Positive effect.
For the promoting of flexibility
Just seems to mean two-facedness
And a lack of respect
To them and me.
Plasticiser just turning our world to mush–
To get it done,
I’m truly in no rush.

Because “yes”
Means yes
And “no”
Means no,
Especially when I’m being
Ever so
Serious with the things
I’m seeing
From you; Messaging
But never speaking.
Stop asking questions when
I say so (then
Maybe I’d try to
Be nicer to
You).
There are reasons as to why
I don’t really cry
In front of those I can’t rely
On. Stop bugging me
And then we’ll see.

Because nowadays
Every feeling is a cliche.
Every tear shed;
Every bowed head;
Every face turned red;
All are cries for
Attention (the more
The better, am I right?).
And if your eyes are bright
And shining with what are
Finally not
Teardrops
Then you should think of the children far
Away in Africa or whatever,
Forever
Starving or in thirst.
Feel generous, put others first
And you're just
Showing off. But helping yourself
Isn't any nicer, I've found.
Dare upset even ground
With thoughts of anger and
You'll understand
That fury
Does no one good, yet
It still seems to be
The emotion that gets
The most coverage, makes
The most change. Go through heartbreak
And be scorned for having expectations.
Have great relation
ships and people envy you
For experiencing no complications.
I don't know what to
Feel anymore.
I've experienced the repercussions
Before.

Some of you
Don’t know how much you mean to
Me–
I just can’t see
A way
To say
“Just standing next to you makes my day”
Or perhaps “That made me feel so
Much better” because I know
It would just feel weird.
For how long has our society feared
Expressions
Of affection?
Too much obviously feels wrong
But when you’ve been here for so long,
I don’t know how to not overdo
My gratitude towards you.

I hate
The stabbing feeling
At my food and water’s gate
Into my body.
Hate dealing
With the bacteria in me
When their arrows
Are pointed in that narrow,
Singular spot
When anything cold or hot
Just hurts. Please
Leave me alone; no lease
Was signed before
You declared war
On the space
That wasn’t yours
In the first place.

Don’t leave a puddle
Untouched, lest
Someone muddles
Along into it. Best-
Case:
It deepens, the place
Acquires a lake.
But make
The wrong move,
Avoid its surface
For more space
Along the path
And face mosquitoes’ wrath.
So I guess it’s better
To let
Your feet get
Wetter–
Let’s
Avoid the forehead sweat
You will
Produce when you fall ill.
Get some puddle on your legs
To **** those mosquito eggs.

I remember, when I was younger,
I thought that of time, numbers
Like 9:30 or 10 were considered late
To sleep. I was in bed at 8.
But now I can never sleep enough--
I find it tough
To start dozing,
For my eyes to be closing
For seven hours straight;
To do so would be a good twist of fate.
I miss when I was five,
When my body clock was still alive
And working well.
At this point, I can't tell
If it's tired or it's dead.
Think the insomnia's
Getting to my head.

"Without you, I
Would probably die"
"You don't know
What it feels like" "No
I can't stop"
"Right at the top
Of that building looks nice"
"I really wanna ****
Myself"
When will
People stop telling me this?
All it does is
Make me
Worry;
If you ever **** yourself
Was it that I didn't do
Enough for you?
"You're the only one that can"
Sure, I understand
How hard it's been
(I've seen
Others of your kind)
But if you ever die
By
Your own hands the only thing on my mind
Would be
The number of times
You came to me
And my love
Wasn't enough
To help. "You're
A lifesaver"; for
How long will this be true?
For how long can I keep you
In my sight?
I could try but all my might
Will never be enough for
All of you.
It's not that I can't do
It anymore.
You tell
Me you can't hold back
So I do
The holding for you.
But unfortunately
For you and me--
My arms ache as well.

The thief-- she
Took to me
A bit too well--
It was too long before I could tell
Just how much she was taking.
Every piece she was making
Soon turned from hers to mine;
Though she was stealing food
When we sat down to dine.
My words, my soul,
Coming from a theif
Not a month old.
My fingerprints on her gloves.
What did I do
To deserve this?
For you
To take the things I love?
Poetry is
No longer
What makes me stronger,
Above
The crowd.
My voice from your throat
Is far too loud.

It just feels
Like I should be feeling
More, dealing
With moving on.
I look upon
The past six years;
Joys regrets fears
Run through my mind
But I find
That nothing truly stands out
About
My emotions, nothing
Seems to be stabbing
Into my heart like I thought
It was but did not.
Is it wrong
To not feel much
About where I’ve been for so long?
Because deep down I know such
Thoughts will come to light
Soon; bright
And white
They will be
(Yet rendering my head and heart
Ever so dark).
How long will it take for me
To see
The pictures that should be
Running through my head,
But are choosing to hide instead?

Don’t be the man
Yearning
For the moon,
The one without a plan,
Not learning
From past failures and what’s
Bound to be coming soon.
Do not be the one who desires
For the untouchable,
The one whose fires
Are kindled at only one sight.
This is my attempt at shining a light
Upon your scars.
Though you wish for the moon
Amongst the stars,
Don’t you care
About the lack of air
Up there?
Don’t you know you’ll die
Too high
In the sky?
I suspect you’ll never be able to fly,
To reach the moon;
A suffocation I fear that’s coming
All too soon.

So my eyesight
Is getting worse,
And though some might
See it as a curse,
I’m just grateful that I won’t see
The downfall of our world as clearly.
Yeah, it’s getting bad
But at least I can’t watch the fads
And trends ruining my society,
The community
Around me
And what it’s come to be.
My glasses will still function
At every messy road and junction
Of my life, unfortunately.

Peace, where are you?
You certainly never do
Seem to appear in my mind–
I can never find
You when I need you most.
Even when cases are closed,
When mistakes are fixed,
I’m unable to see you in the mix
Of emotions that are mind
(Though I’d like to leave them behind
From time to time).
So I search for Peace, hoping she’ll appear
When times of chaos are near.

Fields turn flowerless
As plants turn powerless
Against the winter cold.
At only three seasons old
Do their stems start to fold,
Heads droop and begin
To wither.
Within
Me
Seems to be
Something similar–
Perhaps I’ll look good for a while
But the smiles
Start to fade
With too little sun
And too much shade.
So I hope knowing me for one
School year’s
Enough– I fear
December’s
Round the corner. Remember
Me at my brightest,
When my roots were strong
And my thoughts felt lightest.
For I long
For your company
But Fate’s decided we
Simply aren’t meant to be.
The storm’s coming around.
This side of me should not be found.