Ten

One

If my tear-stained sheets and mascara-smeared pillows could talk

They would speak of my desperation and death each day

Two

I’ve always loved the night

For I find comfort in the dark

But how can I embrace the shadows

If every time I close my eyes I see you?

Three

You are the best thing that ever happened to me

Four

You are the worst thing that ever happened to me because

Five

I love you

I love you like it’s the only thing I can do best

I love you like you’re the air I’m struggling to breathe

I love you like you’re the blood running in my veins but

Six

I was just the bandage to your wounds

When she slashed your heart and left you bleeding

Having eaten nothing but her old messages

Seven

I was there for you

I gave my everything to you

I even let you use my own flesh and blood to reconstruct your broken heart but

Eight

Eight

When the wounds healed, the scars spelled out her name

But you know what hurts the most? It’s when

Nine

You let her open your wounds again

And you come running back to me, begging for another reconstructive surgery

Not realizing that because I gave you my heart to use

It was my heart she killed when you let her run you over again

Ten

I am broken

I am dead

I have nothing more to give

Because nothing to me has been left

And I,

I will be forever marred

By the scars that will always, always

Spell out your name.

Assumptions

When I was little, I thought love was magical, eternal.  I thought wrong.

Growing up in a house torn by flames of ice and screams of silence, I thought love was impossible. I thought wrong.

The first boy who made me smile despite my fears, I thought he was love. I thought wrong.

The first man who made me follow my heart, I thought he was love. I thought wrong.

The first man who made me fight, I thought he was love. I thought wrong.

I’ve collected a notebook full of all my assumptions

I’ve stored a memory full of my thoughts

I’ve kept a heart full of tears and pain, sealed it with an ice chain, and threw the key into my river of wrath.

I am alone.

I am happy.

I am strong.

I thought wrong.

The first man who listened to what I have to say, I thought he was love.

The first man who made me feel like I belong, I thought he was love.

The first man who faced my fears with me, I thought he was love.

The first man who gave warmth to my cold heart, I thought he was love.

The first man who brought light to my dark soul, I thought he was love.

I thought right.

But he has stolen my heart and ran away with it

And now all I have left is a gaping hole in my chest,

Which only his name could fill.

I thought love could kill.

I thought right – it always will.

Bad Love

Tick tock tick tock

Hear the ticking of the clock, sweetie.

It’s counting down your life.

Listen to your heavy breathing.

Is the adrenaline rushing through your veins already?

Tell me, are you deciding – fight or flight?

I see your trembling hands, and I can’t help but laugh.

You’re feeling fear.

Good, good.

Now you know how I feel.

Now you know how I’ve been living for years.

Now you know how much effort I have to exert every time you come near.

Now you know how I have to stifle my cries every time you hurt me.

I’m black and blue, body and soul.

You’ve ruined me.

Yet you stood there with blank eyes, pretending not to know why I’m breaking down.

It’s payback time, love.

Run, I’m giving you a headstart.

Let’s play hide-and-seek.

I find you, you’d feel my vengeance.

You escape? No worries, I’ll still hunt you down.

Cry now.

Shed tears for your life.

Listen to your heart beating.

Feel the pounding.

The glint of my knife will be the last reflection in your eyes.

I Self-Harm

I self-harm.
And no, it isn’t about creating dramas for attention.
No, I’m not doing for the sake of popularity, for coolness.
No, it isn’t romantic.
I self-harm.
Not because I want to die,
But because I want to live.
I self-harm.
Not because I want to get hurt,
But because I want to be relieved.
I self-harm
Because I want to feel
I self-harm because the bite of the blade
Into my flesh is the only
Link to reality that I have
I self-harm
Because I am so damaged that I need to see my blood flow
To convince myself that I am still alive
That I’m breathing
That I exist
That I am still human
Warm with flesh and bones and blood
Not the dead rotting corpse I feel inside.
I self-harm
Because I am a destructive force and
I don’t want to leave debris trailing in my wake
I’d rather hurt myself.
I self-harm
Because it’s the only drug I can have
To keep me sane me as I continue to breathe.
So..
To the person who thought that cutting her wrist and showing it off
To gain the sympathy of others is the
Sure fire way to be popular and cool
You never fooled me.
That isn’t the face of depression.
That’s a narcissist hiding behind the mask of self-mutilation.
Do you want to know how it really looks like?
It looks like blades and cutters hidden in the back of the drawers
It looks like clothes stained with blood and tears
It looks like long sleeves in the summer
And pants in the beach
It’s the shame you feel
Every time you think of how weak you are.
It isn’t about your boyfriend kissing your wrists
Telling you how beautiful you are in his eyes
No. You are not beautiful.
Not in the way they say anyway.
Because you are scarred with your lost battles with your demons.
The only way you can be beautiful is when
You survive and look back and glow
With pride as you think of how strong you’ve become.
Don’t get me wrong.
You are still whole, you are still unique, you are still wonderful
And believe me, your wounds will heal and close
But the ugly scars will forever stay
In places only you can see.

Nostalgia

I miss you
Like a grass plucked from the field
Like a shell washed from the shore
I miss you
Like a bottle thrown out to the sea
Like a tree uprooted from its home
I miss you
Like the love always needed
Like the comfort always wanted
I miss you
Like an angel thrown out of heaven
Like the devil taken from hell
I miss you
Like how I miss my home
Like how my heart aches for yours
I miss you

Happiness

February 1, 2015.
I wonder if you still remember that day. I do. It was the day you asked me that question: “How would you define happiness?”
It started everything.
My answer varied from time to time.
After months of being in love with you, here’s my answer:
Happiness is seeing your messages on my phone.
Happiness is going through our conversations.
Happiness is waiting for your free time.
Happiness is the moment your name appears whenever you call.
Happiness is hearing you sing for me.
Happiness is making up after days of fighting.
Happiness is asking for forgiveness every time I push you away.
Happiness… is not always there but..
Happiness is knowing you want someone else but still stayed with me.
Happiness is picking myself back up again after you broke me.
Happiness is when you chased me again when I gave up on you.
Happiness is you putting me back together after I inadvertently broke myself again.
Happiness is seeing you change.
Happiness is feeling that finally.. this love isn’t unrequited anymore.
Happiness is loving you unconditionally.
Happiness is holding your hand.
Happiness is looking at your eyes.
Happiness is being with you.
Happiness is knowing that I can  love more than I thought I can.
Happiness is being loved by you.
Happiness is loving you.
You’re my definition of happiness.

Rue

What would your life be today if you only did what you didn’t?
Has it ever crossed your mind that you could be happier than you already are?
If you only…
Took that single step?
Looked back before running away?
Given than chance?
What if that single choice could take away all that pain and regret?
If ever you’re given the chance to go back in time to change the past, will you take it?
Will you exchange your experiences and lessons learned for that single thing every soul, including yours, is searching for – happiness?
But what if your happiness would mean someone else’s sorrow?
Will you be truly happy then, knowing that while you smile, someone will cry?
You are aware that for every action you make, every step you take, will affect the lives of all the people around you, right?
Knowing so then, will you still change the course of your life for your fulfillment, at the expense of the happiness of everyone else around you?
Will you be selfless, giving way for their sake, sacrificing your personal contentment, letting go of the promise of hope?
Or will you be selfish, putting them aside, fulfilling your heart’s desire, grasping what you regretfully let go of a long time ago?
What if everything hung at the blink of an eye, in that split second you’re given to decide?
What would your choice be?

Jump!

“Maybe tonight you’re scared of falling, and maybe there’s somebody here or somewhere else you’re thinking about, worrying over, fretting over, trying to figure out if you want to fall, or how and when you’re gonna land, and I gotta tell you friends that to stop thinking about the landing, because it’s all about falling.” 

                      —   Tiny Cooper
Have you ever wondered why we live our life the way we do? Why do we do the things we do? Has it ever crossed your mind to ask, “Why am I living like this?”? Do we live the way we do because we have no other choice but to do it? Do we live it like this to seek greater glory? Or maybe to fulfill the “mission” supposedly given to us? Or do we live our life the way we do because we are afraid to take that leap over the edge?
Tiny Cooper’s quote of brilliance hits dead-on the dilemma of living our life. Almost all of us stay within the circle of safety, braving life with hesitancy and doubts, all because we are afraid to get hurt. Because we are afraid to be called failures. Because we are too afraid to be laughed at.
This just proves that we humans are too stubborn to learn what life keeps on telling us: at some point or another, we are bound to fail, but it should never be an excuse to stop. Because, at some point or another, we are also bound to succeed. Life is a balance – successes and failures, happy and sad, black and white, yin and yang. But between the two extremes lies the medium that leads us the way: the journey.
As the famous cliché goes, “It’s not about the destination; it’s about the journey”, the journey – the “falling” of Tiny’s quote – is what life is ultimately about. It is not really the glory of success or the pain of failure that consumes us – it is the journey we have taken on the way to the extreme. Life, as tragic as it may seem, is almost always a series of constant failure. It is as if it is programmed to give us humans failures upon failures upon failures, giving success a “one shot only opportunity” quality. This is where “falling” comes in. We fall and fall and fall to land painfully on hard ground, just so that we can jump and then fall all over again.
It’s a cycle really. You jump, you fall, you land, you stand back up and then jump again, repeating the whole process, until finally, you seize that one-shot-only success. Until you’ve done the whole harsh thing, you could not say that you’ve lived life to the fullest. Living life to the fullest means jumping, falling, just to land to jump all over again. It’s about taking risks and facing challenges head on. It’s about facing your fears, braving life with a certainty that you will eventually achieve what you are trying to achieve.

 

So live your life – jump over the edge of fear, land, and then jump again. Because that is life: landing from a bad fall only to jump and fall again. It’s picking the pieces of your broken self and starting all over again. It is about never stopping and making excuses. Because as you fall, as you live, you realize: life isn’t just actually about falling; it’s about embracing it, so that it becomes about the floating.

Beyond the Glory

“Hey, congratulations!”

“Whoa! You’re so amazing!”

“I want to be just like you…”
I’ve been hearing this all day long. Wherever I go, people would stop to shake my hand or clap my back. And all day long, I have been smiling and thanking them. Putting on my biggest smile, booming out my loudest laugh. Pretending that I’m okay.
I want to be happy. I’m supposed to be happy. But why can’t I feel the joy of success? I have met the people’s expectations. I have made them proud. So why am I unhappy? Why can’t I be happy for myself?
Is it because, in the first place, I did not choose the path I am now traveling on? Maybe that’s the reason. Because I have been so caught up in obeying and yielding to other people’s demands and expectations, I have set aside what I had really wanted. In order to make them “proud”, I threw my dream away…
How can people just let go of the future they are hoping to have? How can you just let something like your dreams slip out of your hold? How can humans just give up what they’ve worked on so hard, for the sake of other people’s opinion? How can we just chase other people’s dreams, while our own gets left behind in a wispy strand of memory, trailing in our wake, taunting, haunting?
No one expects to hear this kind of stuff. Well… the people you least expect to be unsatisfied, more often than not, turns out to be the people with the biggest regrets. You might think we’re happy because of everything that we have achieved. You might think that we’re satisfied, that we have nothing more to ask for. You’re wrong.
I wish I could go back in time and did all that I should’ve done. I wish I made my own decision. I wish I was stronger. I wish I had a louder voice. To speak out. To be heard. I wish I had the courage.

 

For now, all I can do is go on this path. I know I am not alone. There are a lot of people out there, feeling the way I am feeling, suffering the same way that I am. I hope no one gets lost the way we did. And as I continue my journey in this travel-worn path, I am hoping and praying that someday, I’ll find the courage and the strength to seize freedom, spread my wings and chase my dreams.

I’m Not Her

 

Looking at your smile hurts.

 

I’ve been staring at you for the last half hour or so, just following you around, trying to get a glimpse of your face. Not that you know; I’m too scared to even think about how you would react when you discover what I’m doing. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but that smile.

 

But looking at it hurts.

 

Do you have any idea how you look when you are happy? It’s like looking at the sky opening up for a downpour of sweet, sweet rain after a drought.. it’s like seeing the stars when you look up at the night sky after a week of rain.. the way your face just lifts up, the way your eyes crinkle and twinkle, the way those lips turn up for that smile..

 

Looking at your smile hurts, because I know I’m not the reason behind it.

 

I want a glimpse of the smile she gives you because I know that’s something I couldn’t give. I cant make you look at me the way you look at her. I cant make you hold my hand as tightly as you hold her’s. I cant make you wrap your arms around me to make me feel safe like you do for her. I can’t make you wipe my tears away and promise me that everything will be okay. I cant make you say my name in the sweetest way.I can’t make you love me… Because I’m not her. I’ll never be her.

 

It hurts so much because I’m not her.

 

I’ll never be as graceful as she can be. I’ll never have her pretty face. I’ll never be as desirable as her. I’ll never have that carefree, fun attitude you’ve always wanted. I’ll never be as brave as her. I’ll never have you loving every little thing about me, the way you do for her.

 

And it’s killing me. It’s killing me that I cant ever make you happy the way she does. I just want to see that smile playing on your lips. But I cant. Only one person can bring that out. And I’m not her..