the tip of my lip

there was a precious moment
in my life when i trusted
every string of words that
trailed from your lips;
i was intrigued and captivated
by you
because i was addicted to your voice

i laugh and i can pretend
it is all a joke
when they call me stupid
for having

but there are no explanations to
the way i want to perish into
a million unwanted pieces
that your eyes miss and
nobody looks at

i can laugh and
stand beside their pity
when all i want to do
is run away and
break down

but i can't cry anymore

because i have realized everything
you made me
was a mere figment of your
and my imaginations of

they tell me to wake up
but i have long been awake
since before you
left me to peel open my skin
and shred out pain
and took away my breath
in ugly ways

i am awake and
wish i never lingered a second
into nightmares you suffocated me in

i am in pain
that is hard to feel but
i have long realized this is the way
it will be now


there are movies i watch
and songs i listen to
that remind me
of me
of you
and the way you made me feel

people tell me i talk too much
but there are things
i am sick of, like the
silence when i
was with you

i saw you walk past today
and i almost tore apart

i hate the silent but
there are times when i
need to go back to
what hurt me

to heal.

a different kind of pain

There are days when I wonder
how lucky one has to be to lie
in the middle of a highway and not
get runover
standing on the 31st floor
counting the seconds it might take
to feel the first scrape of skin
when you hit the ground.

I have all these thoughts I exert
through little seeps of
hellos and

I try to be a simple person.

But I am always thinking about
how much pain I can take.

when beautiful things attack

these thick, heavy emotions
i can swallow back like
unwanted phlegm.

I feel it lingering at the back of my throat
just above my chest
above that horrible
horrible thudding
I will not let it find these emotions
I will not let it

I cannot. Swallow
don't say the words
I need you to keep me sane.
I need to stay insane to not need you
I cannot need you
because I cannot hurt you
I cannot want you
because I don't want to dig
bigger holes within me.

desperation is clawing

i want to sleep but the memories
haunt me

the seconds tick by like hours in a day
i want to break free from this plague
of suffocation
that keeps my mind
insane like asylum patients
i feel like i have no more hope
i am my own patient

i kid myself in believing i can make myself better
and paint mirages of myself
for others to reach out to
something i can't even reach

i kid myself in believing
i can be better

i want to be alive

i want to feel

i want to be free

this is my normality

They stare at me with blank looks
blank faces
but I am bursting with colliding emotions
coalescing like
They silently scream 'me'
I am a thousand broken miracles
and one dying illusion

10 minutes of flashing blackholes
pulling every time, day... even worse,
every second
of loneliness and typical expressions
because we like to repeat ourself.

I try sitting crosslegged, or knees tucked
under my chin, inside
my shirt, pulling together to fill the blackholes
that never seem to vanish
but always appear bigger than the last
time it wrenched me open.

There's always a light to pull me out
but I'm living under fused bulbs.

by me and haziq. halinot :)

when the world was alive

I never thought I could live without you
and I tried to stop the clocks from ticking
each second I lived without
you under my skin
I prayed for the apocalypse and
did things to myself to make believe I was dead

I never thought I could live a breath without you
and I am depressed because
I can

I suffered under the glare of sunlight and
let it burn my insides
when you told me you were gone
because I was gone long before you
but you were always there to
keep me held on

It is pathetic that I still gasp
and find it hard to breath when
I think of you
but that's how it is
when you try to die
and wake up alive and

It is like the whole word has changed
and I am still living yesterworlds.


through the tip of my eyelashes i caught
a different you and
a different me
naming our children and painting a future that
never existed.through the tip of my eyelashes i caught
a memory that took away
my breathing and left me curled in trying to use my skin to cover
every gaping hole i could feel inside me.

there are certain chairs i avoid in the cafe and i turn away
from people who speak like you

i have not ridden a bike since
and i don't want to because the space
is too small for me to find a position that does not
feel like

i still freeze when i see -

there are hours in a day
i keep for myself because
there are people who try to pull me out of
this & i can't stand the cold rush of fresh
air it is like wind pulling at loose skin,
ripping it further and making it

i cannot look people in the eye because the
reflection disgusts me

in the midst of a thunderstorm she cowered at lightning
beside me but i merely laughed because things that can kill
thrill me more.i heard once that brains could
fry and leave a person thoughtless
so i walked out into the rain
singing a favourite song
hoping to be struck by bliss.

worse things

i wish i never met you
because you are too beautiful
and the tingles you leave on the soft of my skin
are too delicate for someone
as scarred
and destroyed as i
i wish i never met you because
i know one day
you will feel the way i feel
and hate me for that
and you will hurt
i don't want you to hurt

i wish i never met you
so i could still paint a hundred portraits of
unknown faces and call them
and love you because it's not real
and i don't have to
realize i don't deserve you

coincidences don't exist

just fucking cry, bitch.
it's not helping at all, the way you're suffocating yourself in huge chunks of words and swallowing the pain back inside until it destroys the rest of your body, it's not helping because your mind is already screwed up and your heart has long been shut down and smashed to pieces.
just fucking let those ugly, ugly tears fall from your eyes because you will feel better, but maybe you don't want to feel better and you want to feel like you're in control when really every single organ and vein in your body has gone twisted and out of control
because you look at yourself in the mirror everyday and hate what you see but sometimes it feels good not liking yourself
because you once read somewhere that they won't like a person who can't like themself.
there was a time that seemed like a previous life when i could reach out to the sunlight and feel happy and never noticed the little things like how it made my palm redder and scorched the back of my skin until it was too agonizing to lie on my side because the skin was peeling and i stay awake counting days until all this will end, and i'm counting in seconds because i try to believe i can live like this a lot longer because i pretend i am stronger than what i really am
which is not strong
weak weak weak
weak like babies born with illnesses and old men who can't get out of bed
the phlegm at the back of my throat reminds me of things that i don't want to remember but i find myself thinking of it everygoddamnday because those things are the only ones that can show me i am still alive.
i sit myself down in my room and count the pills inside the bottle though i know there are 58 because i've only taken two and the bottle says 60.
i still go back to that place where everything is black and i feel comforted by it all because i don't have to worry about tripping over something beautiful and making sure it's not going to hurt because of what i have done but it's all a fucking phase because i still wake up to blue skies and realize there are certain things that i have done and repeated, mistakes that i will have to eat up and hope never to regurgitate out so the effect will only occur to me
i wish i was blind
i wish i could breathe properly without having to force my heart to thump another beat more because some people still want me here even though i wished every night that i was long gone
i wish i could cry
i wish i could cry
i wish i could cry

but i am afraid to feel what i had promised myself never to feel again, lying to myself that what i am experiencing right now is not that exact fucking feeling and the only reason why i don't cry is because i have succeeded in feeling a cold, hard depression not the hurricanes of reality.

and that's when i pretend i don't feel the pain
when really i do

i want to meet an alien

i am happy
so happy like the bright yellow pages
and beautiful writing
i actually feel good about myself but
i am depressed
dirty depressed
like the yellow pages that
blind me under the sun
but i don't stop staring
and words that spill
words that spill secrets i do not want to tell
tell me
i am happy and
make me believe it
tell me
i am beautiful
like things that
steal our breaths away and
make us feel elated inside
but i am not
i am not

shut me out
shut me out
shut me out
shut me out

i keep building a world too small for me
and i keep falling off the edges
i keep falling

the new page

i have to swallow up
my psychotic dreams
my mental self
and pretend i am


and don't forget to breath

and then, the crash

feelings blotted up like the shadows
of water droplets creeping down glass
screaming in my head songs
that are cutthroat just to make the real pain
less obvious
it's the same old, same fucking story
it's not like anything
or anyone can make it better
so why the hell
it's not like i
will get better anytime soon
so why the hell bother
pretending i can?