your box

This is another box

of memories I trip upon

swept under the rugs

with a neatly folded T-shirt 

you once wore

ten times a week

with a neatly folded T-shirt

I once clutched to

every night I sleep

Then I had put it away when

you first stepped on my heart

and balanced your toe on it

with pages and chapters of

our moments together

I touch upon, also, to

movie tickets and

photographs

it is not only pain

nor only happiness I feel 

being under the lid

it is more like

a closure of my thoughts

because I still do not know

what to feel

when I think of you

There are days when I still 

laugh and cry

at all the wrong moments

and all the wrong places

With the box on my lap and

us inside me

I am packing my bags to

runaway 

yet I'm bringing the box with me

wherever I go

like a part of you

like a part of me

Because I live in your box of

memories now

and it might

one day

help me come back home

to where I belong

when I can feel the electricity

when you hold my hand

see-through

I hold you out at an arm's length

trying to ignore your

clenching my fingers to pull me

closer 

while I am trying to pull away

without

breaking touch.

You are covering up

broken words 

with a handful of keys

that might or might not

reopen a heart battered

and

sore

I am staring at the key that

will unlock what I feel

but you keep missing it and choosing ones 

too big to fit

Look up,

I am staring right at you.

Because you feel I am as colossal as the world

when all I am is a small part of

messed up thoughts; when

all I need is

a little bit of scooters and

intertwined fingers

to make it better.

The worse emotions come out from

wrapped up parcels of

unspoken pain and wanting somebody you

just can't have.

At least we're now on a similar page.

papercuts

I stare down at the papercuts
Across my fingers
Subtle, tiny, and barely visible
Insignificant slashes that are an odd
Crucial pain

They remind me of you and the moments
I clutch tight to your shirt
When you say you have to go
Because you agreed that we were no longer
“We”
You agreed with no one else, but
Yourself because somehow
I’ve hidden behind papercuts and
You can’t see me

I suck on one papercut until it
Reopens
Because I want to feel how it is to
Break something that was
Healing, healed, whole
Another was a rich red
Red
Ready to gush, so I let it
Gush

I wanted to be like you

But what I do only covers nothing
And I slowly trace my finger across
The thin sheet of paper
Where I see my blood tinted across the borders
Already turning brown
And unreal

I stare down at my papercuts
Like a new discovery, and suddenly
Hate myself because I am
Weak

I realize nothing will change what I feel
Because papercuts heal but

Hearts never will

nothing like razor blades & dettol

Perhaps I cannot give you enough

and maybe the lady in a trance

who ratted on my life

was wrong about my fate

and I am not really the type to 

give you everything.

I believed I was really that

great and

able to give you my all

because I tried to be who you want me to be

until I realized

I was no longer myself.

Then I stopped and figured I was

about to fail.

I was not willing to give you

my handphone to keep for a week

because I didn't find it neccessary.

I was not willing to give up my passion

because some things are a part of who I am

and honestly, because the moshpit was 

where I first met you.

I was not willing to give up affections for

close friends because they were once

my life

and everything to me

and things like that leave a scar on my heart

however much you were able to 

heal it; some things

even a lover cannot erase.

Like if you leave;

except it will not be a mere scar but complete

dissection.

Perhaps I am not as wonderful of a person

I thought I was because I was not willing 

to surrender my life to you

so instead

I tried to die

because you made me believe you no longer cared.

I am not that great of a person if

all I do is keep doing things you don't want me to do

and knowing that's about as much as I can do

for you,

I'm just so sorry it isn't everything.

and see what you find

I wake up today in a body

too big to fit,

and things adjust differently

to my sight now,

there are clothes that are no longer

familiar to taste

and the lines on my hand are glowing.

I wake up to a clock

spun 24 hours for what

feels like ten years

already, and I am drained;

my eyes are hidden from

nights of pain 

and one night running from it.

I wake up today and am I

who I was before - ?

I wake up today to 

a house of secrets, a chest

of silence with my legs

cold and

numb from clenching my toes tight as I

scream awake from nightmares

conjured by myself

and the lines on my hand are showing.

I wake up today to pretense

and uncertainty, I can only

figure out why I am

weak; my hair is torn from

my wrenching fingers and my heart

is drowned with the

overflowing tears that spill like

words I cannot utter.

I feel like the sheets are of

a hue unlike yesterday's,

wrapping me now in

a darker shade of 

blur,

I wake up today in a 

world I have ruined

because the lines on my hand are real.

To know who I am

And in moments where

I am a whirlwind crashing 

down on mistakes,

where you are the air,

you held your breath to

slow me down

until I am no longer

my nightmare.

And I can feel your hand 

once more;

A reality.

i write because it hurts

moments we had

kissing under streetlights and

drawing hearts on 

each other's faces

until we led ourselves 

into furious passion

that crumpled sheets and

had you clutching me

against your body

until it hurt so deeply 

yet I still found the breath

to gasp "I love you"

because I do

nights of fearing

and reassuring you 

i am only yours

and you are only mine

singing songs that reminded me of

you

and writing poems to

push away hurtful things

you say

over and over

i say i believe you when

you tell me you love me

because i do

yet after it all

i can't believe

i have to once again

put in place

uneven heartbeats

because you decided to forget

me and my words

decided to make yourself

not understand 

that I still say

"I love you"

because i do.

chemistry

there was a short pause

in seconds and minutes and eternity

where I forgot to fend for myself

and let you eat me up

I left a part of me lost in

nightmares and

froze in an unpleasant stance

every day I woke up from

sleepless nights

I attempted a self-assessment

and

experimented with padlocks and

passwords I could use when I

felt it was time to

put myself away from

the motions of life

I attempted to take control

of the little I had

left in me

that I saved for myself

but somehow

I lost it all

lost it all to you.

=======

I continued searching for different

methods

to kill a man

or save one

I decided to go with 

the latter

because killing you isn't 

much of a satisfaction to me

anyway

because I remember telling

you once

"If you leave, I'm better off dead,"

=======

you are now finding ways to

scrape back to my heart

but

I forgot to mention my experiment

was completed

just last night

with the final addition

of

painful words

from you.

=======

it is almost

sweet

to see someone else trying

other than me

for once to

make things work

I am running out of catalysts to

pull me further inside

and I 

slowly start to

 feel your hand on mine

now

and your apology

actually sounds

real again.

I attempted to ruin myself

after you

but I am failing

because of you.

=======

I let myself believe that

another escape will

stop myself from

once again falling for

the candy you place in my mouth

with each kiss

candies with a 

bitter end

but each escape is

a door leading me back to

you

because I realize now

the trickle I get

when you melt my 

freezing process

is not a fraud

but

what you are

because you are

what kills me and 

what makes me feel

alive

strength and

what makes me weak

my destroyer

yet also my builder

my hurt and

the one who heals it

because you are the reasons

i am whole and I am empty

and also everything 

in between.

things better left untouched

you give me keyholes that I 

somehow always had keys for fit

and I find inside the boxes,

closets,

chests, rooms,

a million half-answered,

half-completed questions

mine or yours?

I realize I fear what I have

stumbled upon, I am 

afraid

to be just another 

along the line

afraid

to not be special enough

to stand out

afraid

to remind you of

the numerous 

stringless before-me's.

What if you look upon me

as our hearts entwine; as you grip

my hands so tight you don't 

want to let go

but forget the reasons why and

merely see

what used to satisfy you;

which isn't me.

afraid

to be just a satisfaction.

life on hold

I sometimes wonder

little things like why

I don't sleep under my blankets

anymore, why don't I sleep?

Little questions like what

do all these nightmares mean;

why do I dream, why

am I afraid to see; what am I

afraid of?

am I afraid?

I sometimes spend nights

counting sheep and seconds

in a song, wondering 

what life is meant to bring 

to me

to us?

I thought about

minutes and windows,

and asked myself why you

showed up, why we fell,

why I am still holding on.

I thought about

reasons that made

sense of your words that

sometimes are quite

unexpected, I wonder why

surprises can't all be

good;

why do I fear?

I thought about

unmoving seconds

asking if I had the power to

move the motion of time

to my own delights;

why is time so

unbalanced?

Why are there never

answers satisfying

enough?

icebox

i no longer sleep under

blankets and cuddle in

tight tangles

i do not yearn the feeling

of protection

perhaps i am now

immune to the cold 

prickles of solitude

and self confinement

that hits me in constant

shudders.

i do not let myself

melt with the warmth

now

i have many reasons

to give me hope that

perhaps if i could

stand the chill i 

can then learn to freeze

with it

for eternity

hanyut

maybe i'm built for no good

like buildings that give way to

earthquakes

and the rain that

paths way for rainbows

maybe i'm made to do grave things

like

be the soil for coffins and

the ends of a broomstick

i feel sick to the throat but

it feels good

the nasty gutting feelings

all

vanish vanish vanish

i like to watch them disappear into

smokes

and

brain damage

and

sudden laughter

it feels good to dream again

it feels good to laugh

maybe i'm built for no good