113: scald

of numbers one to ten:
of indifference and going crazy
of in denial and feeling guilty,

on the scale
of all the things through which i've been living to everything i'm capable of being,
of the truths i've been believing to what i'm trying to be achieving,

on the scale
of greatness and sanity
of good health and charity
of godliness and clarity,

i think i finally understand
where i stand.

because on the scale
of underwhelming limits and limiting overgeneralisation,
of forms zero to infinity,
of anorexic to obesity,
i worry
to a senseless degree
of what i am
on scalea

100: breaking news

how do you
brake
the news
to a child
that their only parent
is gone
?
here's one way
:
letting her
estranged villagefolk
who came to take her home
break
the news
at the schoolgate instead
.
because nobody prepared you to face
her
breaking voice
,
her
breaking down
,
as she tries to remain standing
in spite of her wobbly knees
;
as she struggles afloat though
her vision is drowning in tears
;
bothered breathing
,
sobbing and suffocating
;
and you watch
jaw dropped
hands shaking
mind numbed
because nothing prepared you for this
.
holding this
trembling soul
shaken and stirred
by the twists of fate
of having lost
her sole supporter
?
trying to
unbreak
herself
in her state of mind
of worrying about every single thing
of unpredictable uncertainties
---
then you start to realise
that she is no more prepared
than you are
.
nothing
prepared
me
for this
.
how do i
break
the news
to a child
that their only parent
is gone
?

---

written: 13/4/13
last edited: 3/12/13

70: blow job

To think
that being a quarter century old
would help me
endure the mental torture
and the emotional turmoil
of figuring out how to minimise
the blow
of breaking another person's heart.

29/11/12 2pm

59: run away

i feel bad

not because
i
had

reciprocated

mistreated
laughed

smiled

cried.

i feel bad

because
i

fear
being
dispensable
dismissable
disposable.

i feel bad

because

i
would

rather

disappear

than 

confront.

this is how i preserve myself.
this is how i save my heart.
this is how weak i am.

and this is why

i 

always 

flee.     

54: i surprise myself sometimes I

he asked, "you really
wanna know?". i freeze, inhale
sharply. do i?

in the car, there's not much you can't see or are able to hear. or do. or hide.

52: Submerged

Somehow,
I find myself in the middle
of the sunken fields of Despair
again.

But I am not stationary.
And I am not alone.
Because the weight of
pent-up tears and
the wrench of
dark undercurrents 

make me sink
faster, deeper

into the overbrimmed
realms of Dysphoria,

the dystopic home of

the rejected,
the tormented,
the dejected,

the fragmented.

Here is where

you will find those
who are in want of 

a teaspoon of Concern,

a big pinch of Gratitude,

a handful of Appreciation,

a morsel of Happiness,

a sprinkle of Hope;

from those whom
they care about the most

(from those who
care about them the least).

Struggling together in
solitude: suffocating in this
sea of hot ever-flowing tears and

sobs of endless desperation from being

souls trapped in lucklustre, unfulfilled lives

still trying to seek someone who understands, to
save us from ourselves. But there is nowhere to go but

Down.

And the lower I go, 

the more I give in

the more I give up

the less I give a fuck 

about the world.
About all this.

Will this go on forever? Will this abruptly end?

Will this just end up being a nightmare,
where I wake up drenched in my own sweat?

And ah, what if I'm able to save myself

But am unable to save the others,

especially those who dragged
me all the way down here?

Do I leave them?
Not an option.

I couldn't

I can't

I won't.


old:

in the middle
of the sunken
fields of
Despair,
the weight of
pent-up tears and
the wrench of
dark undercurrents 

make me sink
faster, deeper

into the overbrimmed
realms of Dysphoria,

the dystopic residence of

the rejected,
the tormented,
the dejected,

the fragmented.

Here is where

you will find those who 

lack and are in want of 

a teaspoon of Concern,

a big pinch of Gratitude,

a handful of Appreciation,

a morsel of Happiness,

a sprinkle of Hope;

from those whom
they care about the most

(from those who
care about them the least).

So I
suffocate in this

sea of tears as the

sighs of desperation from

souls trapped in lucklustre lives

seeking those who can try to understand.

But there seems to be nowhere to go but down.

And the lower I go, 

the more I give in

the more I give up

the less I give a fuck 

about the world.
About all this.

Will this go on forever? Will this abruptly end?

Will this just end up being a nightmare,
where I wake up drenched in my own sweat?

And ah, what if I'm able to save myself

But am unable to save the others,

especially those who dragged
me all the way down here?

Do I leave them?
Not an option.

I couldn't

I can't

I won't.

51: who i really am

from the depths of my soul,

at the bottom of my heart,

inside the core of my mind,

underneath it all, 

i am

afraid of being alone
of being left alone
of being left behind
of being left undone;

afraid of being apart
of being broken apart
of being broken inside
of being broken hearted;

afraid of being unloved
of being eventually unloved
of being eventually ignored
of being eventually forgotten;

afraid of being disappointed
of being predictably disappointed
of being predictably disappointing
of being predictably unneeded.

these 'irrational' fears                    

guide me

          restrict me

                    control me

                              force me

                              to

do the things i do 

think the way i think 

feel the crap i feel.

from the depths of my soul,
           at the bottom of my heart,          

inside the core of my mind, 

          underneath it all,                        

i am

Sca(r)red