Sep 27, 2011

say it like you're screaming at me

I want to make people feel like I'm talking about their lives, to see all their dark emotions on print right in front of them, because I completely understand how it feels. I want people to be able to relate their experiences to mine, experiences that seem so personal, the kind that you swear no one else understands. I want them to look at the words and say 'that's exactly what I'm feeling right now'. I want them to realise that they aren't alone in feeling this way.


I'm pretty sure you've lost everything you once used to feel, but I don't understand how you lost it so fast, two days right after...that. And I should have never let you get that close, both ways. But really, after everything seemed to be going very well on Monday, and Tuesday, why the sudden drastic complete change on Wednesday? And how did it completely erase all the memories? Yeah, the memories aren't a lot in terms of quantity, but seriously? Common sense tells me I should throw this back at you and walk away get on with life. But I can't do it, not yet. Maybe things will be better after, like, the second of december. And I would like to wait till then, if I can. Even if I know this hardly means anything to you, since you let everything crumble because of something like that - even friends know it shouldn't affect a friendship. Even if I know I hardly mean anything to you. Even if I know I can't take being in something like that for long, that pulls me down into darkness more than it makes me smile. Even if I know you can't give me what I need so badly. Reassurance. Unity. I need to feel like I'm a part of you, but you refuse to let me in and you refuse to let yourself be a part of me, either. I want you to know everything there is to know about me, but you don't want to know. So different, so different, and I know someday I won't be able to take this much longer, but I'd still like to hold on and give this yet another chance, anyway, just to see what happens after the second of december. And while you let this take over us and continue being like this, I'll try and find some self-love, some dignity, some self-respect. An hour ago I was crying my eyes out when I was seriously considering walking away from this. I don't see why I should be taking all this crap. And I am pretty sure you've lost all you've felt for me. When/if you come to your senses again, I do hope I play really, really hard to get, at the very least. You were right when you said I should have said no to you, because you don't deserve it. You don't. And if you're going to let something like that ruin it all, you'd better be freaking sorry. I'm pretty sure not many girls would let themselves be trampled on again and again like that, and for the stupidest reasons.
On another note, if you've simply lost everything you once felt for me and you're simply using this stupid thing as a cover-up, just tell me. With an explanation please I'd like to know why. Why you could do all that you did on Monday and still reply with smilies on Tuesday and suddenly cut me off completely the next day. Today I resolve to stop being the pathetic dog with no dignity. I'll leave you be. Of course, a few days later might change this resolve. But seriously, if you could see the person that you're being right now, you'd be wondering why I bother taking all this crap from you too.

You don't know how lucky you are. On the other hand, if you're actually just waiting for the second of december so that you can say bye, then I guess you'd be pretty unlucky to have a girl that loves you so freaking much.

if i were a pheonix i'd be saving lives daily


Sep 26, 2011

raw and uninhibited, in full catastrophic splendor

And if unfit for tombs and hearse
Our legend be, it will be fit for verse;
- John Donne (The Canonization)

"Why am I so emotionally bound to someone who just can't give me what I need so badly?"
"You don't love someone because they're perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they're not. - Jodi Picoult. I was saving it for a time like this."

Because I told him I aspire to be like Jodi Picoult. Where else do you get friends who look up quotes by your idol to drop on you when you need them.

(As soon as forever is through, I'll be over you)
Awwman sweet friends who mend my heart with quotes because they know I'm a sucker for them.

Hello lexy hello timo :)

This girl radiates beauty. I'd love to hear her love story.

Don't forget to look before you fall

(she gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind)

In loneliness the insulating walls give way again; the little candle I keep in my heart in the day spreads its fire to the rest of my body to burn.

Why did we let this happen? I was on my way to healing just fine; my friends helped me stitch up my wounds and the marks were on their way to fading. You didn't have to tear them open again and expose my raw flesh. Blood. You did give me the option of walking away, you did say I had the right to say no because you didn't deserve this after all my pain. I said I wasn't strong enough to walk away from something I had wanted all along. 

All these wonderful memories and you chuck them out the window with a two-word phrase. I don't know how you do it, but I sure hope you're studying really, really, really hard, because I'm not studying at all. I've lost any ounce of drive.

Being in school hurts too much; I return home as soon as I can, loneliness brings hurt too but it's better than school. So I sleep. I've been sleeping a lot. Before I sleep I recall happy memories and pretend I still feel secure.

Baby what happened? Please tell me, 'cause one second it was perfect now you're halfway out the door -

And I stare at the phone and he still hasn't called, and then you feel so low you can't feel nothing at all

And it rains in your bedroom, everything is wrong; it rains when you're here and it rains when you're gone

Was I out of line? Did I way something way too honest that made you run and hide, like a scared little boy? I looked into your eyes, thought I knew you for a minute, now I'm not so sure

So here's to everything, coming down to nothing; here's to silence that cuts me to the core. Where is this going? Thought I knew for a minute but I don't anymore

Back up, baby, back up, did you forget everything?

Sep 25, 2011

a group of eight i've come to love.

When these walls crumble yet again,

friends help me mend my heart. Friends who text me the next day with syringefuls of encouragement, love, happiness, strength - a mixture of gold. This group of eight, brought together by nothing but passion, its individual members take turns to heal me every time the walls crumble. Which is very frequently.

Taking things one day at a time is how I've managed to get through the past eighteen years, and now it's about getting by an hour at a time, and it's working. I'm not strong yet, still weak, but becoming numb, sometimes even happily numb, which is amazing. No sadness, just sleep and chocolate and the occasional wandering of the mind into the happy bits of the recent past - and boundless fantasies: of arms and laps and lips and heartbeats.

I can't imagine what life will be like the day I find strength. Maybe life will become boring and I'll no longer find the pain in me to write, or the strength will prevent myself from stirring up the memories and pain that I need to write.

What is strength like? I envision strength to be knowing I'm worth something more and being able to say I've had enough and walking away with my head held high knowing it's for the better. I was talking about God's strength with Abi and she said 'Perhaps it's not so much about acquiring God's strength but relying on His strength to get you by.'

I'm getting by now, through the slightly-happy-numbness of my heart and the weird ability to get by without texting you, and even being able to reread your texts and revisit memories fondly. And friends, friends. The different pals in this group of eight, as well as a couple of others in the larger group of forty-two, have seen me through the different periods of time, the different chapters of this story (but through the one same theme that runs through them all) and it's just amazing how they help stem the flow of negativity.

To the one who keeps telling me that any guy of mine is a lucky guy, who texts me just to make sure my mind is constantly distracted from the painful thoughts, who gets me talking about the happier memories and helps me realise I'm smiling again.
To the one who sends me "a lot a lot of hearts" to make me heal faster, even though you don't really know what's making me break apart.
To the one who reassures me of God's presence in me, even though you don't know the exact reason for my pain either, and choose not to probe.

Turn back time three or four weeks and it would've been a different set of pals from this group holding these syringes of love. It's interesting to know. Not that they don't hold them anymore, but it's interesting that you three should be the ones to send me these little messages of strength now. Maybe God's coming to me through every single member of this group of eight, like an invisible thread of strength, tightening the bonds between us.

By the way, I'm really okay. I wonder how you're feeling.

your hands on my waist

1st floor: "See, I'm actually a lot taller than you, you still need a stool to kiss me." You straighten your back, I try to tiptoe. The lift comes. It's just you and me at first, and then a delivery man rushes in. Awkward. We move to the back of the lift.
2nd floor: Delivery man walks out. As soon as the lift doors close I feel a pair of arms wrap around me tight from behind. You squeeze tighter; my heart soars higher.
3rd floor: The lift doors open. I attempt to take a step forward - "No, don't go." You don't loosen your hold. And we stay like that for a few seconds longer while the door stays open.

(And I wonder if I ever cross your mind / For me it happens all the time)

Sep 24, 2011

No more running wild; I'm Yours for life

2 Chronicles 7:14
If My people, who are called by My name, will humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.

This past few weeks I've come to realise: human love is so unstable, so unpredictable, a roller-coaster. Feelings can fluctuate so much.

But God's love stays unshakeable and true. It's something we can all rely on, always call upon. We can pray and ask for His peace and genuinely have faith in it and it does come. His reassurance comes.

Saviour of my soul, I confide in you through all my darkest moments. In You I find my peace, my comfort when I'm weak; I trust in you through storm and raging seas.
Faithful, You're my God; You're the Glory and the Lifter of my head. Your light it fills my days; it leads me in Your ways. Forever I surrender all to You -

And I live to worship You; My Jesus, You're the only one for me. Nothing will ever take Your place, my precious Saviour; who can stand between my Lord and me?
Lord I live to honour You, and I long to bring my life an offering -
take me higher, draw me deeper - I give all to be with You.

(Be With You) (It was written by Sendy!!!! How coincidental)

We sang this song at church today. I was crying on my way to church. I didn't cry the whole day, and I told myself I wouldn't, but on my way up to church I saw a couple being sweet on the escalator and the tears just came. I arrived a little late and the first two lines that they were singing after I had taken my seat was

'Today, I'm leaving all my troubles behind
I'm letting go I'll follow the line
I'm holding on with all of my life'

and it was screaming out to me.
Yes God, I'm in church now. I'm going to abandon all that's weighing my heart down and just look to You.

'No more running wild
I'm yours for life'

And then it was that song, Be With You, and it reminded me to
confide in Him through all my darkest moments.
In Him I find my peace, my comfort when I'm weak; I trust in Him through storm and raging seas, and I live to worship Him. I long to bring my life an offering.

And the last song did it for me. All that I was feeling about all this fluctuation of feelings, all this insecurity in this stupid thing we like to call love, human love -

So faithful, so constant. So loving and so true, so powerful in all You do -
You fill me, You see me, You know my every move, and You love for me to sing to you.

I know that You are for me, I know that You are for me,
I know that You will never forsake me in my weakness.
I know that You have come now, even if to write upon my heart,
to remind me of who You are.

Come and remind me, come and remind me,
Come and remind me
of who You are

Thought I'd have the strength not to cry today

Once upon a time there was this someone who would text me every morning with 'Good morning baby <3'. Every day, he'd come from his school in Bishan down to my school in Redhill to pick me up, and we'd go to random places and then he'd take the train with me all the way to Jurong, take the lift with me up to my floor and then go all the way back to Bishan again and reach home late at night. On days I had Dance practice after school, he'd come and see me during the one hour I had free after class ended; I'd see him waiting for me outside my school and we'd go to the park nearby and he'd bring me food he'd cooked in a tupperware and a bottle of green tea and I'd feel loved. On days I was sick he'd come all the way from Bishan to Jurong to spend a few hours with me in my room and watch me sleep. I remember one day I had cramps and he came with Panadol and sat at the edge of my bed and cried while I slept.

People mocked us a lot; our relationship was food for gossip, for slander. But we didn't care.

Even friends have the common sense to know that something like that shouldn't affect a friendship, let alone feelings that are supposed to run much deeper. I've had enough of all this, of pouring out so much out of my heart for you only to have you absorb it all without giving much in return. I get these occasional teaspoonfuls of sugar. Sugar, yes, but teaspoonfuls. I pour out my heart.

I don't know what shaky ground you built your idea of love (or like) upon, but I should have realised. I should have realised. I give it all to you so easily. Unprotected, raw. All you have to do is develop a bit of non-serious feelings, two short weeks, and I'm helplessly yours again. All you have to do is want me to get me, because I'm hopelessly weak. And then whenever something comes that hurts you, whether it has to do with me or not, you take it all back, draw it all back. I have, I have revealed some things about me that hurt you a lot, because you realise I'm not the girl you thought you knew, and you don't know how much I regret the things I did before, it's just that things are different now and I had to let you know anyway. But while you're hurting and you withdraw yourself from me, you still know I'm there, with my stupid tears and apologies. But I don't have that kind of security because you take it all away when you leave.

You can't expect me to attach and detach myself at will. I'm not a machine you turn on and off whenever you want. With things like love, life isn't just about yourself anymore. Love - or like, of any kind, is a unity of souls,. The questions you ask me, I'm afraid to ask in return - I'm afraid of your answers, I don't even have enough hope of a positive answer to ask them. I'm afraid of your silence, your careful deliberation, an uncertain or negative response. I'm so insecure because you don't give me the reassurance I need so badly. You said you need proof. And I said proof? while you're smiling with your pals I'm crying in my seat and looking back at you every three minutes. every second of the fifteen minutes you take to reply each text, I'm staring at my phone waiting. how much proof do you want? I need proof too.

I know you need to get away from this and I'm okay with that. But I need you to realise that when it comes to things like this, there's one more person you have to take into consideration. I have feelings too, and I hope one day I'll become a part of you, because your life isn't just about you anymore. Things aren't just about you anymore. Love doesn't work this way.

You're just lucky I'm so weak, weak enough to let you take my heart and drop it again and again and again, fifteen months and you still haven't stopped dropping it. One day I'll have the strength to say this is enough. One day I'll be stronger, one day I won't be a desperate running dog.

I'm not going to be a desperate dog this time, I hope. I'll try, very hard, not to come crying and running again. I'm not going to let you have the privilege of having me be so dependent on you - or have the privilege of seeing that dependence and rejecting it, anyway. Try. Try to hold me again, try to break this wall I'm trying to build up around my heart, try to break it with a tender word and I'll scream. I'll scream and cry and turn away, but I know I'll be waiting for you to say you're sorry and hold me closer and tell me you're not going to let go.

But of course I'm dreaming. You'll never do that.

I don't know what shaky ground you're building your feelings upon, but it's not working. I can't live like this. But I'm not going to be a desperate running dog anymore. I'll try very very hard and get some friggin' self-respect.

Claire: You're the reason she's up there right now! You have no idea what she needs. You don't know her! She's my sister. You mathematicians: You don't think. You don't know what you're doing. You stagger around creating these catastrophes and it's people like me who end up flying in to clear them up.
(Proof, David Auburn)

A friend of mine has been helping to heal the heart you've been crushing, slowly, slowly. It's unfair that all along - for the longest time - you tear my heart apart more than you mend it, and it's my friends who do the sewing - a slow process that requires so much attention and care.

He happened to mention JK Rowling, and I told him that JK Rowling was from Exeter, but really, my ultimate dream - faraway, childlike, like my ambition of being an astronaut when I was in primary school - was to be like Jodi Picoult. And I realised you don't know all this, because you never asked.

Four days before the Prelims you started giving me drugs. Horrifying things but the colour of purity, and they're really, really destructive, but they make a person really, really happy, although there's the drying of the mouth, the occasional shrivelling up of the soul into darkness before you inject the stuff into my blood again.
Now fifty days before the A's you do away with the drugs and bring the knife out. It's a faster way to kill.

No. I'm going to be stronger than this.

(Wow, an extended metaphor. I'm on my way to using conceits hahaha)

Sep 21, 2011

you don't know the power that you have

Only the moon's watching as he kisses her. His hands run down her back, she nibbles at his ear, he whispers sweet things in hers: why're you so cute huh, why're you so cute
She buries her face in his chest, the music of his heartbeat's all she needs. He presses her head closer to imprint the scent of her shampoo on his shirt.
She feels so lucky. She forgets their daytime tension, the hesitant words that come in sputters, all the uncertainties, wondering what he's keeping to himself when he doesn't say he loves her back. Maybe this is the end of all that unnecessary tumult called insecurity. She knows he needs her too. She hugs him tighter. She knows, and with that knowledge things are going to be okay.

A day and a night later and she's waiting. Waiting.

She realises things haven't changed. Why should they?

She's sick of this roller coaster - it's been a year of his roller coasters and it's about time the carriage stopped making sudden horrible drops ever so often. When the carriage slowed to a halt she thought she'd finally be able to hop off, but it suddenly jerked alive again, going up, up, up, up
so high she nearly forgot that the down always follows

Sep 18, 2011

I reach forward slowly; how you would reach cautiously to a snake – except she is not dangerous, just broken

Even as I sit here, contrite and waiting, you do not come. I wonder why I seem to hear, within every heartbeat, your footfalls on the carpet, the door creaking open. I don’t dare to look up because I know my imagination is playing tricks on me, so when you finally come to me I am shaking and have almost given up hope.

You cradle my face in your hands and my heart runs a marathon. You whisper my name. I melt into your arms, thinking all the while of how insecure I feel – and if it is really supposed to be this way. I wonder if you know that hours before, someone else called me on the phone and asked me why I am still with you. I want to tell you this to illicit a response from you – I want you to be jealous, but your lips ghost over my skin and all thought is lost.

You kiss me softly and gently and I wonder if love is supposed to be careful – so cautious – or raw and uninhibited. As though I have conjured that notion into your mind as well, you draw me closer and your touches border on brutal – fuelled, I suppose, by passion and – I hope – love.

Your eyes dance alight with something akin to fury and my heart beats faster – I am not sure if I am scared or if this is just because of passion again. I cling to you tighter, tighter, and you fill me and take from me. Why does it not feel like you are giving?

I give myself to you and arch into you; this is a ballet of submission and of giving. Your teeth against my neck and then sinking into the skin covering my clavicles, your body pressed against mine, slick fire a line between us that we cannot quite cross – is this your fault or mine?

When you’ve been satiated you lie beside me and your breathing evens to slow, soft puffs that completely contrast the ragged, desperate breaths you made earlier. Silent, I start to cry. There is a distance between us now that is almost tangible. The sheet starts to itch beneath my bare skin and I turn, afraid to wake you even as I press myself against your back. You stir in your sleep and move away, murmuring something I cannot quite hear – or do not want to hear.

Terrified by this separation, I curl into myself and start to weep, pressing a corner of the sheet into my mouth because I am afraid that you will hear. I do not want you to think I am unhappy with you. I do not know if I am.


“Hey,” he whispers, his voice curling into my ear like a smoke signal.

I jump at the sound, as though you have caught me red-handed, doing something I should not be even thinking of.

“Hi,” I greet anxiously, but I don’t know why – I am not expecting you to come around the door any moment. You have been gone for days. You talk to girls as easily as I would, and it seems to me that the distance between us is a bridge on fire.

“How have you been?” He asks gently, touching my arm. There is a warmth that spreads, comforting and reassuring. It makes me think of a glow that will light you up from the inside. I nod tersely, still tense. He smiles back at me, loose and casual – the kind of smile that makes me feel at ease at once. I smile back.

You come then, and I do not have to turn around to know that it is you. The way the room is suddenly charged with energy, and the way everything bristles around you – that is how I know. I do not have to speak to you, either, to know what you want.

I follow you out silently, and you take me back to my house where you take me again. I am crying the whole time, and I do not know if you are aware.

I do not feel beautiful.

You say I belong to you, but if that is supposed to make one feel warm and fuzzy – there is none of that. All I feel is insecurity, inferiority, and the beginnings of a hurt that just will not go away.

Jollin, the twin I never had, she's the most talented writer I know. No one else's prose makes me cry. All the time. My aim is to be like that someday.

Sep 15, 2011

a nine-year-old girl who's kidnapped,

her hands tied behind her back, knees and ankles bound, a tape over her mouth. The man removes her blindfold so she gets to see him stab her mother. A knife in her abdomen. Out. Clean. Her eyes are still open when she slumps to the floor. She could simply be in a daze, if you ignore the pool of red growing on her white dress.

Mummy. She screams. All she wants to do is run up to mummy, stop the blood, hug her tight, nudge her, maybe she'll wake up. She screams, but it's muffled by the tape, it hardly does her heart any justice. Her body yearns to tear open, tear open, to expose the flesh and heart. But she's bound. This rope holds her body together but her soul falls apart. Her body is no longer a part of her. It's a prison. She's wailing inside this prison, pounding at its concrete walls. Her shackled body is a confine, her soul struggles to burst out. She just witnessed a man stab her mother. She can't even scream.

(That must be how it feels like to be paralysed, too. Just saying.)

Sep 14, 2011

A kiss speaks more than words can express

so if you've got too much to say, remember to relax: the hearer needs to breathe too

how many mistakes does it take to learn

Some things are beautiful when they come at the right time.
When they come at the wrong time things can fall apart.

like a repeat of my birthday, only now the stakes are far too high
i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry

don't let this fall apart

Sep 7, 2011

"do i really make you that happy?"

"Would it be okay if he came over for the day?"

But of course your mum would never allow that. She wouldn't even allow your tutor to come over if no one else is home, let alone your boyfriend. You know that nothing close to what your mum fears will ever happen, really. You've only barely hugged him once. He's a shy guy, and you're a shy girl, and all you're seeking is a sanctuary -

Some couples, they're okay with all that PDA, but the both of you just aren't like that. To people like you and him, the air is acid, the eyes that pass you by are daggers. The walls have ears that distort and echo, you've come to learn in your painful preteen years. Now all the two of you are seeking is a refuge, an escape from the scary outside world where you can be free. The closest you can get to this sanctuary? A musky stairway, the back seat of an empty bus, a lonely park at night, where he dares to hold your hand, touch your face, where you whisper i-love-yous that no one else will hear.

All you want is a place where the both of you can feel free. You want to show him around your place and the bed in which you lie every night to think about him. You want to show him your childhood photos and the diaries you kept in primary school, and maybe have a little fun cooking. You want to be able to talk openly about feelings without having to whisper, or having to check if anyone else might be around. You want to feel like it isn't wrong for you and him to be in love.

You have every right to feel so.

Held back, by all these restrictions you impose on yourselves. You imagine an enemy and end up suffocating yourselves. So because mum will never let him in, on his birthday the two of you look up some budget hotel, the kind that reeks of one-night stands, because a sixty-dollar room's all a couple of kids can afford. And five beautiful hours the two of you sit at the edge of the bed and talk and laugh and look into each other's eyes without having to worry about anyone else noticing. You walk out to the balcony, boldly hand-in-hand in bright daylight for the first time, and for the first time he says it out loud, those three words, for the first time it's more than a shy whisper. Here you find your sanctuary. Here you're free.

Five hours later the sheets remain creaseless, the bed untouched. Maybe they would have charged less if you told them all you wanted was a room with a bench. You walk through the glass doors onto the street, back into the big world. The calm of the evening air. For the first time he dares to hold your hand in the open. Maybe he's learning to let go of unnecessary mind-barriers and love like he wants to. There's nothing wrong with it, is there?

And a step too early, a wrong turn of the head; you see a pair of dagger eyes staring, a hand covering a mouth that's waiting to spill over with gossip. I just saw them walking hand in hand out of that sixty-dollar hotel.

Nobody will believe you.

Sep 4, 2011

2am and I'm watching Rachel Berry sing

Oh my man I love him so; he'll never know
All my life is just despair
but I don't care
when he takes me in his arms, the world is bright, all right

What's the difference if I say
I'll go away
when I know I'll come back on my knees someday
Oh whatever my man is, I am his forever more

It cost me a lot but that's the one thing that I've got; it's my man
Cold and wet, tired you bet, but all that I soon forget
with my man

He's not much for looks and no hero out of books;
he's my man
Two or three girls had he, that he liked as well as me, but I love him

Oh my man I love him so
he'll never know
all my life is just despair; but I don't care.
When he takes me in his arms, the world is bright
all right

What's the difference if I say I'll go away when I know I'll come back on my knees someday
Oh whatever my man is, I am his forever more

My Man (Billie Holiday)

"I like the way you dream so big. I don't know how to do that. You look so pretty tonight. Rachel, I have something to say to you -"

AWWWWW FINN :(((((((((((

I think I'm gonna stay up watching all the Glee episodes, crap. FINN :((((

when the rain washes you clean you'll know

"You're the hottest girl in the school and I...[have] legs that don't work. This shouldn't be happening, not because I'm on a wheelchair but because I'm obsessed with Angry Birds and my mum cuts my hair."
"I like your haircut."
"It's hard for me to believe that this is real. If I know that you spent even a little time sharing yourself with someone else, then there's one other person in your life that can provide for you things that I'm supposed to provide. That's just too much for me to take."

Every person's circumstances are different but these emotions, these emotions are the same.
These insecurities are universal. On both sides, hers and his.

And there's one more thing that you've got, whether you want it or not. You've got me. It's not up to you, or me either, really. I would help it if I could. I'd have said no, walked away, hold back tears and praise my strength if I could. But I don't have that kind of strength.

Yes you do.

I don't. You don't know me. You have no idea.

At church, the incident was a cloud growing in my head and I couldn't get rid of it. Revolting. Asked for His forgiveness. Asked for cleansing. To be clean. For His snow-white rain to wash over my blood-red slate. Then I realised it was I who couldn't let go of it. Then I realised it was you.

He's written it off, forgiven me, forgotten about it like He said He would.

Hope one day you'll find the strength to too

and I wish you could read my mind just to realise what I don't know how else to prove

Sep 1, 2011

remedy for heartache

at assembly
at the bleachers
let the tears flow
break down when you try to say something
cry all you can
until you've no more strength in your wrenching heart to squeeze out those drops of fire

then wash them away
(the fire, the pain)
decide that
if he isn't crying for you you shan't cry too
get some dignity get some self-love
and quit acting like a desperate shameless dog

clean up the mess

retie your hair
change into a nice new oversized comfy top that reads 'I <3 ME'
be so, so grateful for the sister you never had
who helps you dry your tears
and forgoes a free lunch for you

go shopping for a birthday gift with your pals
be thankful, again, that she reminds you to be happy

get some time alone
call up a smurf and say
'i wanna go somewhere and lie down in grass and not say a word
and forget about everything'

so while you're waiting half an hour
go get some fresh air and call up the chinaman and talk about nothing, everything
and repeat the phrase 'life is good' until you start believing it

then spot the short smurf in his untucked tee
let him insist on carrying your bag for you
walk and walk and walk and walk and walk and walk in the darn hot sun
to nowhere. tire yourself out
cross a road, a bridge, take the longest detour to a
turn on some music and don't say a word and let your mind go blank
the person lying on the bench on the other end of the hut, he's guarding your thoughts
because even in silence, a friend's company is all the assurance you need

when the weather is cooler, go to that pretty grass patch like you wanted to
it's a beautiful day, the clouds so pretty, the sky so blue
get a full view of the sunset right in front of you

unfortunately, you don't get to witness the brilliance of the sunset when
the sun hides behind impenetrable dark clouds -
a reminder: happiness can't come into your life
when you envelop it with darkness

talk about kindergarten and crying as a child
to take your mind off the troubles of teenagehood
on the way home, alone, drown yourself in party rock anthem & just dance
drown yourself in the beats, can't think about anything else

go home and
let the morning tears translate into midnight words
and sleep as soon as possible

and be so thankful for the Council and every single person you've met there

and take comfort
in the knowledge
of written, but never spoken, words of a few days ago

and hope they still hold true

honor society

I got another question that I need answered
But you won't speak to me
Got another problem that I need solving
When are you gonna see?
Don't act like you don't care 'cos I know you do

I can't act like I don't care 'cos I do

But I just can't figure it out
And I just can't leave it alone
And you just won't pick up the phone
And I know I'll never get through