a little later

tripping over buried jewel under my balance, i am still unknowing of how it took so long to find his shine in the grit of dirt beneath my pain-stained world and learn as he teaches to find hope flicker behind every comforting whisper and a healing heart.

but with every freeway
comes a tunnel
and i feel like i am once again plunging into the midst of a heavy dark where the light might misplace me as i speed through the clots of my miserably blunt thoughts, murky and rusted, without an end to show me out.
i tend to forget
about the vents above
to climb into and escape

it is the worst to feel this way when i have nobody to blame
but myself
and i feel guilty for trying to find outlets because i am too afraid to admit to my demons and i try to understand why i have ended up this way but i cannot see through the regular black spots that tint my eyesight of a once colorful world.
and i wish i never forget the taste of freedom,
and i wish i never learnt the taste of freedom,
and how challenging it becomes,
yet how thrilling to fight for.

i held his hand when i was my freest,
without ever feeling
as alive as i did again,
when i put aside my insecurities
to haunt me a little later.

but when 'a little later' is
a little too late
and visits when your guard is at the lowest,
i wonder if throwing away the weight just for a while to attempt to fly was really worth it to be strong, as i head towards the skies without any security left in me to pull me back towards the ground.

i want to feel free when i am
with you
but i have to face my own ghosts and
live my own cages.


i continue to pick on the skin beside my bitten down fingernails when i have nothing to do and no cigarettes to smoke, and my eyes will zone out as i picture a series of cold, unpleasant imaginations.
some call it a bad habit
but i call it clockwork
ticking like a timebomb until the next explosion of thoughts that can almost (kill) suffocate me; it is an automatic structure of the way my body works and some may give it an alienating medical term but i'd rather just stick with "stress" to make myself feel a little bit better about myself.

there are still days when i am in need of
letting my soul fly
free - so i listen to music like Sigur Ros, A Perfect Circle and Deftones and capture lyrics like "you're into depression because it matches your eyes" and "overwhelming hostility"
so i try to steer away from the words and listen to how these bands have so much emotions they can teach me how to feel again when i crumble down from another session of "i need to run. i need to run. i need to -"

i wish i can fly

i wish i can feel the skin on my bones deteriorate with the wind as i disappear from a place at a time because i want to be somewhere else; under a rock or inside a box
or in your arms with my face buried in the curve of your neck
and tangles of your hair

and i will worry about my weight crushing your heart as i lie above your chest counting your heartbeat and i worry i will lose you
then the clockwork begins a ticking and i will try to runaway so you won't face my disasters but i can never runaway from you because you keep me safe and allow me to curl inwards as you try to communicate when i just want to

i have decided to keep my hair long
but every so often
i will snip at the side of my hair that measures unproportionately short and keep it the same length as it was last week, and the week before, and the week before because it makes me feel like i am
still the same person

(as who?)

i refuse to take medication and that is why i give away my cough medicine and leave pills and tablets sealed and untouched on my table and threw away every single anti-depressants i was given because i shake my head and prefer the insomnia when they decide on a medicated slumber.

i do not want to dream in colours
if it is not my choice

this is a hollow and dark pit i return to every so often when i sit alone
and have no cigarettes to smoke and want to distract away my fingernails and i will pluck thoughts from the clockwork of my mind to release the tension

then i will look up
and think of you
and how i have the courage to laugh and dare to love because i believe you are worth the try and i get tingles under my skin when our fingers fit together; when you cover my mouth as i yawn and then kiss my back and have a secret smile on the tilt of your lips that only i can notice
and that makes me feel special.
and i want to disappear, again
but i want to disappear with you
because you remind me how to feel
like a favourite Sigur Ros song
when i begin to go numb
and sink into my bad habits once more


i try not to stumble
and i try not to pick on
broken glass
again. i have learnt to
wash away my reflections
and create new ones
from the shine of your eyes
and you are the flicker
of hope
of my own Pandora's box.
though i ache
a blunt, cankered ache
i am relieved and
embrace the feel of sunlight
upon my fingertips
because you are the one
who steers away my storms
and never bring me rain.

it no longer matters
where i will find myself
when i wake up
in a foreign morning
far from you
because i know i will
find my way back home
to you
and find my place of reason
in the steadiness
of your heartbeat.