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
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
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


I hold you out at an arm's length
trying to ignore your
clenching my fingers to pull me
while I am trying to pull away
breaking touch.

You are covering up
broken words 
with a handful of keys
that might or might not
reopen a heart battered
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.


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
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
Because I want to feel how it is to
Break something that was
Healing, healed, whole
Another was a rich red
Ready to gush, so I let it

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

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

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 
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
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.


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
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
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
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
I forgot to mention my experiment
was completed
just last night
with the final addition
painful words
from you.


it is almost
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
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
because I realize now
the trickle I get
when you melt my 
freezing process
is not a fraud
what you are
because you are
what kills me and 
what makes me feel
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,
chests, rooms,
a million half-answered,
half-completed questions
mine or yours?

I realize I fear what I have
stumbled upon, I am 
to be just another 
along the line
to not be special enough
to stand out
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.

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
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

Why are there never
answers satisfying


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
i do not let myself
melt with the warmth
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


maybe i'm built for no good
like buildings that give way to
and the rain that
paths way for rainbows
maybe i'm made to do grave things
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
vanish vanish vanish
i like to watch them disappear into
brain damage
sudden laughter
it feels good to dream again
it feels good to laugh
maybe i'm built for no good