what of hope
but empty promises
if you do not
dream of dandelion fields
and look for four-leaf clovers
in pavement cracks
(even though you’ve never seen one)
what of ambition
but unbridled fantasies
if you do not
bellow your wild ideas
to the skies?
(the ones that make
the earth tremble and the seas part way)
what of love
but heartbreaks and mistakes
if you do not
try to swallow it
but find its fluttery wings
tickling the pit of your stomach
leaving feathers on your tongue
when you least expect it to?
(the 2am I miss yous
and 2.05am tinder convos
tastes strangely like vodka)
do you remember
when we were younger
and they told us
we could hear the ocean
if we held a sea shell to our ears
as if those lifeless husks
contained some echo of home?
as a naive & introverted child,
my brown spotted conch shell
became one of my most prized possessions
and I spent hours upon hours
at my auditory beach
close my eyes
so the waves
could drown out reality.
well it turns out
they lied to us
like they did about everything else
(faeries, santa, growing up)
and the sea-like sounds we heard
was just our surrounding environment
resonating within the cavity of the shell
I guess you cannot escape reality
only distort it temporarily
google tells me
it’s a cheap trick
replicable with an empty plastic cup
(by holding it up to your ear
or finishing the liquor inside)
To readers of this blog (and other poets, artists or storytellers of any shape & form),
Do you ever find yourself gravitating towards trite and uninspiring metaphors to retell the same old stories?
Because I do and it’s been bothering me a lot lately.
A quick scroll down my page & you’ll see my obsession with comparing unrequited love, broken friendships and my overthinking mind to oceans, storms and dark starless nights.
On one hand, I know that it’s so important to always tell your own truth and this constant struggle with body image, establishing boundaries and vocalising my feelings to other people has been mine since I was a little girl. That being said, at times, there’s just this nagging voice at the back of my head that this is an excuse for me to be my own worst enabler.
Instead of focusing on living on the present and fulfilling my responsibilities in the real world, I am finding myself losing hours of the day wallowing in self pity (but as soon as I think that, another voice pipes up in my head telling me that I’m being too harsh and sabotaging my opportunities to feel vulnerability).
I feel like the root of the problem is that I haven’t been able to find balance. At one extreme, it feels like I’m picking apart the stitches that hold me together every few days just to see what words will spill out from from the seams and at the other, I am always swallowing words at the tip of my tongue, smiling, and letting strangers trample over my comfort zone because it’s a shortcut to their happiness, you know?
trigger warning: to be safe, there are mild allusions to self harm, body image issues, depression etc.
and downcast eyes
the lost girl
leaves a trail of silence and half-lies
in the hopes
that she’ll find
before the storm
she has already tried
on her arm
to help her navigate
the cold black nights
but she could never
find the way
before the cross-roads
faded into jagged lines
that mark her skin
with rods of blinding light
[note: video is of an older version of the poem, slight difference with the text below]
I was a collector
not of coins or comic books
but crushes I could count
as I fall asleep
if only to escape the reality
of spending the rest of eternity with
I dreamt of
arms wrapped around my fragile bones
lips kissing the bruises
that hid the true colours of my heart
as it bled for
to care enough
if not to love but to hate
push me away
so I can fall apart
I was a criminal
serial in nature
stealing last names
from boys with expressive eyes
plotting murders of pretty girls
I saw as threats
and they were all threats
locked up in a prison cell
guarded by self doubt and desperation
I had written a million love letters
changing who I am for each delivery
just to fit into the envelopes
I thought they’d want to receive
presenting myself as the perfect package
I never attached the fragile sticker
it’s no wonder I always ended up as broken pieces
I fell in love
first and foremost with an enigma
despite the turbulence of emotions
I have felt since you’ve entered my world
I still regard you as a series of question marks
except I no longer want to figure it out
I don’t remember a time
when you weren’t floating high above me
initially I admired the height of your ambitions
not realising your elevated pride and sense of
s u p e r i o r i t y
would never allow us to see eye-to-eye
I wondered if you had ever spared me a glance
and if you did could you tell me apart (?)
did you want to tell me apart (?)
from the others who stood beside me
with their faces turned up to the sky
hoping you’d notice us even for a second
you must have zapped them
with the same flashy lights and mixed signals
that I once thought you built for me Continue reading “To Alien”→
An offhand comment triggered my desire to just post a quick rant so here you have it, unstructured, unedited and unfiltered.
The story is, someone that I hardly knew called me ‘sheltered’ and I found that incredibly insulting not only because I don’t think it’s true to the degree they believe it, but also because I think it’s so pretentious for anyone to pass hasty judgements on someone else.
When I first heard that someone saw me that way, I couldn’t stop laughing because I didn’t have a logical response to said comment. I know that we’re all human and we inevitably all judge each other but I have always been convinced that the only thing you can be certain of is your own subjective view on the external world. Therefore, your opinion is your opinion, no more and no less and that’s the standard I have been holding myself and others to.
I concede that we are all a part of the world therefore we are influenced and shaped by events out of our control but ultimately they’re coloured by our ethics, upbringing, relationships etc. and that’s something you can’t ever tell from looking at someone and for someone to have the audacity to not only judge but conclude about me, in such confident terms, elevating their opinion to ‘truth’ is astounding.
Although I will admit I am almost obsessively interested in how other people view me in order to adjust how I want to be portrayed accordingly, it has always been on my own terms. As an interesting and helpful exercise in order for me to do the best I can in life, I have never had issue with people’s judgements but their conclusions. Continue reading “Judge and Conclude”→
As I come to terms with my ‘personality,’ I would label myself as someone rather emotional.
I wouldn’t say I epitomise the stereotypical kind of emotional where I’m super sensitive, overthinks and cries at the drop of a hat. Admittedly though, to some extent, I am guilty of all of the above to varying degrees. In other words, I am a total princess.
I agree when other people tell me that being an only child has contributed to my character. I have never questioned how my parents offer the world on a platter for me to pick and choose as I please. I had been confident that I was a good person nonetheless. My logic was that everybody has their flaws and in the grand scheme of things, mine weren’t even that bad! However, being in a relationship has made me reconsider. Continue reading “♔ princess ♔”→