167: vacuum

i keep landing in alien spaces trying
to pace myself between touchdowns & breakdowns;
traces of untied laces all over the place
remind me that i count steps & leaps
more than i inhale

my words go further than my aims
my tank is starting to run out of air
god what am i doing here

2019-09-04 7:58pm

166: oh sheet

i am in love
with excel;
letters and numbers and symbols
all aligned neatly in columns and rows - its infinity,
the ease in which
cents and sense add up
as i am handed the ability to
manipulate and enumerate;
formulating and formatting,
manually or conditionally.

to be honest, my love for spreadsheet is newfound
i am barely waddling in the deep-end,
bound by cells
within my control,
but too often i forget
that my obsession with virtual borders
is merely a means of containment
to manifest contentment:

facts and fractions could be put in boxes
but not faces
not feelings
not you
not me.


Last updated: 2019-08-10 6.49pm

165: do you kopi

i was jingled into believing that

hitam itu keunggulan:

invoking senses by blended scents rising

from steaming water stirred

with spoonfuls of bold black and sugarcane specks,

the whirlpool pulling me in

is a dark swirl of mixed notes

and spiralling memories, of moods

swinging from the coldest of temperaments

to blistering tempers and tongues.

i grew up thinking

everyone started their day with java,

that instead of learning to ice our burns,

we were all taught

that all it takes to deal with heated things

is to pour out the contents in a shallow container,

and either blow some steam off or wait for it cool down

before you dip in and sip

till the last drop.

life feels a lot like a cup of kopi o

complex

bittersweet

anxiety-inducing.

wait.

is that why i just buy four boxes of fruity teas?

Last updated: 2019-09-03 5.27pm

164: harapkan pagar, pagar makan hati

forgive me
for my
staggered
response,
i am still struggling to gain composure from past blows.

the hard expressions i wear (a mask at best)
and the hostile exterior i carry (an armor at least)
are all attempts to cushion any sudden or sustained impact
on my mushy softnesses inside,
yet all the walls i keep building are no match for my constantly outstretched arms
—my first line of defense and my most faithful traitor
everready to charge headfirst and to wave the white flag
in the battle of hearts.

i must confess
my sleeves have turned black
from wearing my heart on them
so religiously.
you can't kinstugi shatteredheartpieces
when it's still bleeding,
so i have spent decades perfecting
the art of stitching them together
with flimsy threads of self-love
and forced silver livings.

sometimes i wonder
how despite everything
it still keeps on beating.

sometimes i wonder
why despite everything
it still keeps me alive.

2019-06-13

163: a concept

i keep finding myself holding out an axe for you
crack open my skull
hack me quickly,
understand its discontent
just figure me out, already.
but what you really wanted was to pick my brain in peace;
to poke around the pieces and folds as you please.

perhaps i am hoping too much
with these pipe dreams bursting at the seams
my screams of consciousness incessantly leaking
thoughts and tears and fraughts and fears
—i must apologise
for believing you could save me if i struggle to keep afloat.
i should have learnt by now that we can't see neurons
sending distress signals with the naked eye;
that you can only hear
my palpitations and hyperventilation
if you would look at me
rather than through me.

i am not a concept.

20190719 7.56am

162: airbourne dis-ease

a slumber laced with magic dust slowly reaches its final act; the illusion of a young-at-heart morpheus is slowly morphing, deforming into a seasoned peter pan ever on a flight of fancy.

this daydream or daymare of castles in the sky
is making me dizzy.

i can't fly that high.

2019-07-08 1.17pm

161: carb and get me

i say woe is me
as i swallow my sorrows with mouthfuls of waffles,
sweet ice cream melting on my swelling tongue,
blank tears flowing downstream
— all attempts to save me from the gallows of my mind,
but it seems like a dream
that i can be both numb yet very much alive
in this tragedy i never asked to play in.

breathe, pause.

this is not a cry for help but rather
an acknowledgment:
this deja vu must mean that i have survived this before,
so every time i slip into the depths of infinite void,
i should be able to drown my existential doubts
and keep myself afloat
with these little lifeboats i can afford,
using whatever spoons
i have left on to keep me going,...

right?

pause.



20190627 8.16pm

160: fakeup

blurring the shadows from the past sleepless nights
lining soul’s windows with the cattiest of sights
flicking off the ends, 'few times for good measure
to last all through the day in pain or with pleasure
plucking the follicles that have grown astray
filling in the gaps left behind by d.n.a.
staining the pale from being pursed for too long
plumping them with shades they keep on saying are wrong
powdering the rest, especially the spots
gathering the loose strands and untangling the knots
staring at the reflection, wonder with dread:
am i seeking attention by looking less 'dead'?


2019-03-27 2.10pm

159: soft

please
let me sip on your existence.
i never liked sugary treats, yet i am dying
to savor your natural sweetness on my tongue,
feel your effervescence inside me.

please
this heat is making me drowsy,
and i am parched.

2019-02-27 10.25am

158: volcanot

i grew up in a volcano.
visitors marvel at the vegetation above me
- lush forests growing from fertile soil
failing to hear plates crashing
into each other.

deep within the dark earth,
high pressured liquid fires and deathly fumes
are ever on the verge of erupting
and i'm tired.



2019-02-13, 4.50pm

157: Life, less (draft)

Hang on, i hear them say
as i lie on my own puddle of thoughtvomit,
eyes deadstraight
cheek kissing the ground
wiry weary locks swirling around,
flattened by the gravity of nothing.

At this moment, I am unmoving, unlike the world.
Unmoved, unlike myself.

Overwhelmed by senses of nonsensical proportions
in thought and from touch (always too little or too much);
for being blue yet well-burnt
for being infected yet disaffected,
I wish these unwanted emotions would stop mutating.
I am getting too old to see my reflection
post self-contamination and exposure to dangerous fumes of my own virtual reality,
constantly questioning my own sanity when illusions can be truth in its own concealed crumpled convoluted way.

Perhaps this attraction to hypothetical flames
is a way to douse my own nightmares of having been burnt one too many times.

Floating around in circles or among them
Up down left right everywhere nowhere
in a daze
in a maze
it's all a haze at this point
against the backdrop of wonder and wakeful gratefulness
paved with mysterious tracks of apparent randomness.

Or maybe these are merely excuses.
Because I do find peace sometimes.

But just as tears from the past turn into scabs and scars and signs of having lived, the too-familiar cloaks of safety and in denial compresses who and what we are, and the invaluable invisible packets of what's left of life's lessons of what we learn of what we are and should become; that we know we aren't or shouldn't be, are lasered onto my headspace
From snottynosed days where nothing is left untouched
To flushed cheeks where my heart is more than parched

So I heave my body up from the gravel
wheezing dirt and scraping my fists as my voice finally breaks
-- Save me.

One day you will be free
Hold on grab on come on get up
Youcandothis
wash your grimy mask
and plaster on a grin

Fake it till you make it, as they say
Keep swimming in salty tears
Embrace the pouring rain
and rest assured that one day you will be free

but for now
Hang on.

2018-10-17

- originally from 2017-09-04

156: S _ I N _

kopiah aurat cover semua
kaki cam confirm dah cecah syurga
konon genggam tali yang kuat
kumat-kamit macam nak kiamat:
"tiada paksaan dalam islam"
"Tuhan maha tahu, dia tak kejam"
tapi bila kau hilang sabar
terus tanduk kau keluar,
tiba-tiba bahasa cam jahanam
"TAKKAN TU PUN KAU TAK PAHAM?"

kalau ini la maksud kau 'kemanisan iman',
terima kasih je la -- baik takyah layan.


2018-07-02
9.05pm

155: no god, but, god.

after ramming through our door,
you announce to the world that you come in peace
to carry out your godly mission
of serving thick slices of humble pie
with chunky pieces of cherry-picked facts and fictions,
a pinch of salt, &
a fistful of irony
to save our souls.

how about
  no

154: topless

i may seem
 like a bottomless well of forgiveness,
but it's only because
the walls keep going up
  with broken pieces of me
   every time i fall
the water keeps rising
  with tears emptied out of me,
    in no time at all

153: Sleaze and Dank You!

3 decades old
and for every marriage and birth
i am reminded by obviously well-meaning people
that i am still behind;
that my value is depleting
  with my sagging skin
  with the layers of my chin
  with the lines around my grin
  with my shape being far from thin
  as my breasts reach my shin
  as my wrinkles keep on growing
  and endless other things
i should apparently be fussing about.

after all,
travelling solo
  and buying your own car
  and living in foreign lands
  and collecting awards and degrees
  and having contacts all over the world
  and working your ass of to pay off your loans
  and struggling against all kinds of inner demons
  and still breathing somehow
    are not achievements for women to be proud about
      when nobody wants you.

(haven't you heard, doll?
the age of your womb matters more
than the maturity of your brain.)

some friends say they miss their innocence when they were younger
but i am thankful of my decreasing ignorance
as i acquire firsthand pains and secondhand lessons
while bearing witness to my messups and glowups
that no one else had the privillege to observe,
and yet, i am still told
that my eyes are too cold;
that my 'resting bitch face' will only scare people away
but isn’t it an oxymoron?
because bitches are babes in total control of herself
and you can't be you're in charge if you're 'resting'

but at the end of the day, let's be real:
being unfazed while returning men's gaze isn't just a phase
it's a stance and a form of resistance
because masculinity is so damn fragile
so stop telling me to fucking smile.


2018-12-03 8.49pm

152: thoughts and players

1.
my thirsty lips
brushing against
your lazy smile,

2.
whispering sweet nothings
while running the tip of my tongue
along the ridge of your ears,
slowly nibbling each lobe
as you silently beg
for more,

3.
your sweetsalty skin
and heavy scent
as i leave a trail
of sloppy kisses
down the side
of your neck,

4.
your collarbones
grazed
red
moist,

5.
drawing circles
on your chest
and blowing on each peak
as you quiver under me
ever so slightly,

6.
my hands
twirling your curls
cupping your cheeks
squeezing your shoulders
holding you
down,

7.
your heartbeats
and the constant cycles of
sighs and gasps
as we dip in and out
of blissful insanity,

8.
breathing you in
and kissing your temples
as your trembling pillars stabilise
leaving my throbbing altar
witness my spiritual supplication
through closed eyes
and needy moans,

9.
watching you
rise and fall
as you drift off into another world
leaving me
for the nth time
undone,

10.
knowing
that i can finally breathe easy
now that you
are no longer
in my prayers.

2019-04-12 5.38pm

151: Qu Penat

They say,
'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder'
but

I’m constantly reminded
that those who are darker 

are still made to remain in the shadows,

that some browns are more beautiful than others.

I’m getting tired of all this obsessing
over mothers not trying

to ensure their embryos are whitened
by bingeing on soy rather than caffeine.

I’m tired of capitalists mindfucking
those who are already struggling
over our worths as a human beings
still very much determined
by the shades we were born in.

I’m tired of celebrities promoting
lead in what we’re wearing
and mercury in what we’re swallowing
and that we keep paying

them to kill us from within.

I keep on wondering
when we’ll finally be accepting

regardless of the color of our skin

and when we'll see that melanin 

is a gift, rather than keep scrubbing
it off like a curse for existing.


2018-02-16 7.29pm

150: Sayang

she calls me Sayang
as her love straightjackets me
while the padded walls absorb my screams
and my streams and my dreams
and it seems that she thinks she’s trying
to save me by tugging me tightly
but i’m no barbie in abaya,
nothing but a black sheep in wire
who'd rather crossfire than conspire,
wearing social justice warrior
as a badge of honor.
.
dia panggil aku Sayang,
dan aku dihidupkan untuk menjadi bonekanya yang
solek-selokanya bak bidadari tanpa bayang-bayang.
tapi sayang, suaraku tak semerdu dayang
rambut tak lebat berikal mayang
lidah tak sehalus tali lelayang
tubuhku tak seramping tiang
senyumku tak semanis angan-angan siang.
.
dia panggil aku Sayang,
tapi diriku dah penat ditayang.
sendiku sakit dihuyung-hayang,
diheret, disentak rentak si juru wayang.
yet even after decades of resistance
i am still struggling to keep a distance
between her scripts for me and my own reality.
.
she calls me Sayang,
and sometimes i wonder
if the word has lost its meaning
because the more she talks to me
the more redundant she makes me feel.
.
she calls me Sayang,
so the saying "marah maknanya sayang"
is really just gaslighting,
isn't it?


2019-04-12 7.20pm
2018-01-30 3.06pm

149: heartless

once again,
you are caught red-handed
with another pulpy, still-beating heart
ripped out of a chest you've once been a guest in.

blood splutters all around
as you squish it inside your fist,
turning tears into tsunamis
and friends into foes.

this isn't your first time,
i know.


2017-12-13 4.39pm

147: full circle

i keep dipping in and out of circles;
running in one spot and then to another
everoverworrying that it's never gonna be my place
to say or do or think or feel the way i do
and it always leads me back
to me wondering if
i'll ever




          f    i    n   d



                      my         

place
 
                                                         in

                                                                        the
                                                                       
                                                           

                            world