menutup mata

there are moments like these when

a passerby shows her magic tricks

but she sees right through it

moments like these when

she wraps herself up and

closes in away from the world

she can see her future burning

and she's run out of extinguishers.

she sings now without emotions

because there are certain songs

that hold too much of

her

it is a sickening gutfeeling when

you realize there was almost a pinch of something real

and you almost feel

what you've never felt in a while

and you remember

what it was like

to have feelings

but feelings never last, because

you're too scared to accept them

there are moments like these when

big words numb her

and she sits on a windowsill

counting the stars

on the tip of her fingers

silently

silently

she closes her eyes

and wishes for eternity

------------------

close your eyes.

clockworks

unwashed cups loose paper

a cigarette box

the fight club dvd

out of the box

wet hoodies battery chargers

tangled wires

a fan

whirring

shadowplay

joydivisionjoydivisionshe'slostcontrol

the overused black and white bag

crumpled towels

slung on the bedpost

pages torn my favourite french deodorant

drops of idon'tknowwhat on

floor tiles laura dockrill is a good writer

stuffed toys piled like

dead bodies

4.34am

peace-of-mind tablets i do not take

6 different pair of shades

a messy closet full of

messy clothes a handphone face down

alarm clock's set to 9am but i don't

think i will need it pink curtains

pink ribbon - what is it doing there?

the telephone on the chair

note to self: don't sit on it

posters of unfamiliar faces

i don't know what to do

tomorrow

unfinished coursework

unfinished thoughts

i might as well stop.

rehabilitation

1.

i never lived with walls

for i never believed in

harm nor knew things that could

break them down

until i met you

fear would slip out of my fingertips

unable to stick with someone

like me

for i had no business with fright until

the first sharp pain i felt in my gut and

that sticky burn in my throat

that tasted like rust

the day you first

choked up my veins with words that killed me

and did things that blinded others but

revealed ugliness to me.

2.

'a year ago

i would never have imagined you like this'

they say

and i agree

because 275 days ago

i was life in a candle-flame

on a calm night

swaying and

unshaken

i am still life in a candle-flame

now

but i have tasted the risk of

being blown out.

3.

i never lived with walls but

now i live with 275 of them;

it isn't just a fucking ugly coincidence

that it was a saturday, a 17th

two days ago.

4.

i have lived the past few billion hours

trying to manoeuvre the right way

wondering why smoke leave no shadows

wondering why sleep is such

a difficult concept

wondering if anything can make it better

things do make it better

until the next dip

and i cannot cling onto the changes

5.

they told me to let it go

that i am strong

and i tell myself to

fucking forget all of it, already

but i am not strong enough.

it's been long established that

it is easier said than done

because it has finally revealed to me

that despite how hard i have tried

building walls and

distracting myself

there are still things like

one text message on the top floor of McDonald's and

seeing a friend of his outside Starbucks

giving me dirty looks

that affect me

and puncture me with bulletholes of feelings that i thought

i would never feel again

6.

it is a disappointing stab in the stomach

when you have spent the past few months

trying to forget his number

and the pain the torture

gulp down the lies

the accusations

and one memory decides to revisit

any point of any day

and everything comes gushing back at you

crushing down your walls and

drowning any speck of happiness you

managed to recollect

can'tforget.can'tforget.iwanttoforget.letmeforget.

the 017s and

254s and

fucking 1842s.

and i want to kill my mind because

it is killing me.

7.

no, i don't fucking love him anymore

it is his inflictions that i live with daily

i do not miss them

i want them to go

to go

go

leave me

alone.

i had managed to stop myself crying

unable to digest that

the last time i cried was because of

him.

it isn't a fucking ugly coincidence that it was

a saturday, a 17th

two days ago

and i cried again

because of him.

birthday thoughts

Smoke

Dancing in the sky

I find beauty in things that

disorientate

with time

Blueorangewhite

Blinding my eyes

And I feel free like seconds

and Ants on my skin

I find beauty in things that

don't exist

Like happiness and memories I

try to keep

I waste my time trying to find more

Realizing too late that there's

none to save

I am still locked in, locked

out of home

Maybe things will get better,

maybe I won't

drawing smiles

there, a girl sits

with a pen in her left arm because she tries

to feel different

she has smiley faces on her arm

well, she draws herself smiles and

pretends she is happy

she covers her head with her hands

and tries to see the world when

her eyes are shut

but she still sees a knotted blur

of what she used to

know by heart

there, a girl sits

and writes poetry

singing songs she used to love but

feels nothing towards them, really

now,

she looks at the smiley faces

and tries an attempt

knowing she's been trying to hard

to draw smiles on her face

to pretend she's happy

i don't like eating

i hate the way my tears dirty my face
and they feel horrid on the tip of my lips
but at least it was anger
not a cause of my depressive state.

i was locked in my heart's cage,
screaming for death, his hands around
my neck and i'm screaming
"kill me" -

why the fuck am i still here?

i like the idea of dying and
smiling at the pain, laughing because
the pain is the only thing that
remains real.

His slap tasted good and felt like
fireworks.

I save sundays to starve myself and I want to
twist, i want to coil up and split
open my intestines and
die.

page breaks

there are fullstops in life

and i stand on a ground of

hopes and dreams that are meant

to come true

and it's crumbling beneath me

like broken ice and

psychological landslides.

i used to stand on tiptoes -

steady

but where is my balance

where is my strength?

i fall upon cushions of rocks and

sharp knives and i feel safe

torn and tattered

i feel secure under

broken roofs

because i know now

that i can go no further

than pitbottom and

life won't hurt me

as much as it once did.

i drop

i am free.