dancing in circles

I love running to him drenched with rain

grinning at his

disapproving look,

ignoring his remarks that I will 

one day die from fever;

I just say "You're boring." and

push a piece of chocolate

into his mouth as I kiss him.

He makes a face and

tells me he doesn't

like chocolates so I say I am 

teaching him to be sweet

and the best place to start was 

with his words; he didn't

take the hint but takes off his shirt

for me to wear;

"Keep yourself warm." he shrugged, as if that was

the best he could come up with.

I would rather he hug me, but 

I guess I always ask for too much.

He looks in me 

for I am silent a minute too long

and whispers painfully

"I can't be like you."

I block out the negativity and reply that 

it doesn't hurt to try

but he repeats over and over

"It does."

because it's hard - so I walk away

disconnected 

and had no chance to look back at how he now 

spends his nights under the rain

sucking on chocolate bars because one day 

I died from fever and 

his words tastes fucking bitter to him.

my terrorist

i feel a hundred and one degrees 

searing through the capillaries within my body

and it is the proof that i am once again

locking myself behind cages and

wearing beautiful masks 

i become something i am not

i wonder how he is capable of

noticing it when i 

slip away from him

the moments when my fingers

trickle out of his and he seems to hold on

and squeeze

a little tighter to reassure me 

i don't have to be alone in this

but i am not

for there are always those haunting thoughts

screaming and mocking

i am turning into those people

everyone hates and

jeers at for having no life

for i have no life in me

i agree

so why do i still feel like i am about to 

explode?

but i will not be as pretty a sight as

fireworks in the sky but more of a plane

crashing through buildings and

killing lives.

forcing onto gravity

i stab myself with a blunt knife
a million times until i am
numb to pain,
and the loss of blood makes me feel lighter
free.

i swallow shards of
lies and dishonesty that cut through my
oesophagus until i choke off shattered
dreams, i suffer from amnesia because i once tried
so hard to
forget everything about my life
every second;
seconds like these

i throw myself into fires and plunge
off building tops
without pretending i am superwoman
because i know by now
i am not

never was
never will be

i am just
a distorted lump of crisis and
public disharmony

i can tell by the precise ways i
stutter in tempo to the
malfuntional jerks under my lungs that
my life is
slowly slowly
decaptating itself

i realize how much i hurt
myself and others for i am
mute to exposure
and blind to colours

i sustain suffocation
as easily as i
let slip breaths meant to
keep me awake
i like the idea of
dying in my sleep because
i feel so

alone

and i know it is just
me and
my faults
when every night i hear the
frantic thumping of people
trying to claw in, reach in, break in
to me

but i have long stopped laughing and
i don't cry either therefore i just
drift mid-air with chains binding me shut

therefore i just

grow immune to life and its many
cruelties
beauties
therefore i just
fly without destination
and
sink without end

waiting for the moment where i start to

crumble.

seclude

i suffocate so easily these days

it is no longer a challenge to

fight it

i am defeated, beat, crushed, trashed, fucked.

it seems like every thing i say is never heard and i am desperately trying to 

get people to understand the aches in my heart in my body that i can't seem 

to figure out

but so far everyone failed me

like i failed myself

i want to be able to smile without feeling like it will hit back with a tear 

at the end of the day but somehow my instincts towards bad things are always 

right and i end up screaming at myself every single fucking night i am 

clawing out but so far

nothing breaks except for me

i repeat over and over things that i am sure of but somehow the uncertain 

responses make me so frustrated i am unsure anymore of the one thing i 

thought i could believe in

there, i don't even know what the fuck i was talking about

it is like a million 365 worries a day a year crushed in my head and someone 

turned on a switch that dropped the weight onto my heart without any 

resistance without any reason for me to cling on to when i burst into tears 

and cannot give explanations for them

and so far it just gets worse

subconsciousbreaths

you fit me into every category synonymous to

perfection

though i sometimes don't feel that way like

the way i sometimes feel you deserve more the way you look at me differently 

to how i scoff at myself the way i have done things that makes me sick and 

makes you fake a smile but i know you 

hurt.

i don't want to believe in sunsets anymore

because they just loom over you until

you are gulped down by the dark and

dragged through shards of

solitary thoughts

i don't know why i do this to myself

but you tell me not to because

i am everything you want

you force me not to worry 

for you have promised me the strings of

your pulpating heart which you

slipped upon my palm when i was

never watching

the way you whisper in my ear and i forget tomorrows the way you shower me 

with kisses that hold many forevers the way you shudder me with a trace of 

your fingertip on my hip

but i fret not over reasons you see

but the fretting merely 

emerges when i 

figure out moments when you

look at me like i am

Venus

when i feel as ugly as

the gargoyles of Notredame.

wishing on stars

there was a time when i believed in

horrible stepmothers and

wicked witches; i forgot about

fairy godmothers forgot the rainbows 

forgot the shooting stars forgot the magic carpets

forgot magic itself

.forgot prince charmings

i believed everything i did would be

chaotic from the moment my

heart had

dismantled

and every minute was

midnight when

carriages turned into

stupidfuckingpumpkins and

dreams were destroyed

i spent too long stuffing myself with

poison apples and pressing my finger on

spinning wheels

finding reasons better than his to why

i was insignificant

there was a time when i forgot my name and

spent hours in front of mirrors

wondering what went wrong;

there was a time i thought all was lost

.then you found me

and i believe in magic

i,

see your lips when i lick my own,

i taste you in our 

favourite drink. i miss your smile.

i see your name written in clouds and i like to

say things that you usually say

to me,

it is like you are here. i try not to

talk about you too much, but everything i seem to say is

"oh, and he likes to -"

i miss your voice so i sometimes

call you before i take a shower, though i

sometimes don't know what to say and

love it when you call me even though

i am busy because you

remind me that you are

thinking of me too.

i press my two hands together, imagining

one of them is

yours, it is like

you are here.

i listen to our songs and sing like

you would. for a while i feel your kiss on my neck,

for a while i hear your boyish laughter, and i 

giggle along with you.

i get uncomfortable when i 

miss your hugs and

try to hug myself to sleep

but just end up wishing i could

crash your dreams at 3am in the morning

just so i can see your face.

how to move little fingers

three chocolate muffins lined up

in front of me, I feel extremely

famished but

cannot take a bite for my mouth is

already stuffed with

sweet, sickening secrets.

i see scattered cut marks

and i don't know how

they got there

i see my mind locked in like

an insect in a flytrap

slowly, i stiffen

i cannot write poems anymore without

having to

pause and think of which word is more

appropriate?

accurate?

or was it

actual?

my mind is distracted as

i watch people who don't 

know my life

scribble blurry letters upon the

sheets of paper i once

spilt brains upon

i do not deserve what i am served

they steal away my

counting sheep

and sell them to people thought

worthier than i am 

until i have nothing to

keep me asleep

instead i am fed with

images of sharp knives cutting through my eyes

actually, i don't dare to shut them anymore

so no, counting sheep is off my list

for a reason, i suppose

;after all.

i don't tend to make sense, i don't even know

the point in me saying

i can't afford to lose another minute

to

fake promises - those you see when you

drift

away.

i say life sucks in

a different language so others

can't

point fingers at me and call me

insignificant

can't

laugh because foreign words always

sound better

i'll sell you a piece of reality

for a penny

a penny a piece - maybe two;

i have way too much stuffed in my

pockets

and i don't know what to do with it

except

stare at the things i keep in my hands that i

don't necessarily want.