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
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 


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

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


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
therefore i just
fly without destination
sink without end

waiting for the moment where i start to



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


you fit me into every category synonymous to
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 


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

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

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

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
or was it

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
fake promises - those you see when you


i say life sucks in
a different language so others
point fingers at me and call me
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
and i don't know what to do with it

stare at the things i keep in my hands that i
don't necessarily want.