If I can just die,
And have everything ended
In a flash.
Not with a bang but a whimper.
No one acts like they even care.
And not that anyone would be aware.
The influence is too much
to break the rebellion spines,
Bold enough to get the time rewound.
Wounded.
Only if.
And there is nothing in the world we can choose
Indeed.
I cannot get rid of the real me,
If there is any.
I live for your expectations,
I survived for your dreams,
I am a stock-maybe,
And there is no way to return.
Thought bullet.
It doesn’t kill at once,
But gives no mercy.
It eats you up from the inside,
Through the blood, cells,
And slowly engulf your heart.
Stay normal,
As if it doesn’t hurt.
How heavy is a word?
21g perhaps — heavy enough to kill a soul.
One step from the rooftop,
One more step from the edge.
And if there is even a choice,
Who would have passed the hedge?
55 years to be a brave and fierce soul,
Too reckless to control,
It is a shame you are trying to hold,
Or even bother to alter its mould.
Word bullets.
Notes:
Last day of work.
Why are we blamed for what we couldn’t choose? We did not choose for the city we are in, we did not vote for the year we are born, we do not have the chance to avoid all the shit happened. And why are we blamed for not stopping the rain?
There is too much power in words. It might be harmless to some, but at times the influence is far too large for a broken soul to handle. Lives would have changed before you barely realise, or even before you left your words behind your short memories, and make up new standards, which do not last long.
The world is unfair, and whatever left unsaid is never cared for. Bear in mind that the losers are always the ones who keep their thoughts inside their poor heads, just because they do not want anyone to worry about anything.
My dear twenty-seven
Did you treat me well?
For you made me confess to my fear,
Convey to my emotions,
Rethought my thoughts,
Connect the dots of every happening.
We bid adieu to the wisdom behind the lips,
We witnessed the death of the world;
We faced the greatest pain of life
Buried under the skin,
We experienced the terrible stories
Coated by sugar.
The truth is unveiled and the tides went out:
An acceptance of passed time and made choices,
Too late to be undone,
Too soon to be given up.
Hypocrites on earth
Disguised as loving folks;
Moments of miracles
And fragments of hope,
Mirroring the emerging love.
Too old to restart,
Too young to end —
This is the point of no return.
Note:
Written on the last night of being twenty-seven, “a viable diable age”.
Twenty-seven has not been a lovely year, but I was lucky enough to live it through. Perhaps there is too much to be experienced, and too much pain to be taken.
The first time losing a job, the first farewell to wisdom, the first time to convey the darkest spot in the heart, the first time to share. Did you treat me well? I do not know. But it is time to rethink everything and start a new start.
I am grateful to have met you,
Who supports every dream I pursue.
For the sake of life
And the hidden vibe,
That bound us together
Until the day to wither.
Two hundred years of solitude,
It is better to spend them with you.
Notes:
Written on the day to Sai Kung with you.
Were seeing the eclipse which is not to be seen in another two hundred years.
Made a wish to find what I want to pursue.
A voyage to the Earth:
To be thankful of every encounter,
To cherish, to let go,
For the sake of myself.
Hold on to grace —
For every person you met
And everything that exists…
Just for a mere reason.
Note:
Written after a dinner gathering with my primary classmates whom I have been dodging from for over 10 years. First time to ever share with anyone but you about my childhood feelings and memories.
Am thankful to have a bunch of real friends loving me for who I am. They gave me the courage to share the shadow, the joy to be backed. Revisiting the childhood memory, learning to thank the encounters, the influence which was done to my life, and to let go of the past. For the past has gone and the moment now is what that matters.
You have defeated my fear.
The whisper inside my ear
And the warmth of your hug,
The words from your lips
And the padding of your palms.
Your soul —
The breath of your soul
And the heartbeat I heard
When I lean towards your bosom,
Every bit of you
Healed my broken soul.
Notes:
The fear just won’t go. I tried to open up my heart and confess to my Mom and Dad about my fear. They tried to comfort but only you can make it to calm me down.
You defeated my fear.
The little treats in blue
Shimmer and glow
In every crystal ball
Floating in the snowy flow.
The ash flicked off the sleeve
Drops like the brownish chips
Reminding me of the downpours in our sleep —
Filling the gutters and drains.
In loving memory of.
The star in our galaxy
Loved and missed and thinking about
Every day and night and hour and second
Until the end of the universe.
C of the chocolate chip of the little blue cookie
In the cookie can of ours
Of the fragments and moments and seconds.
Fall.
Flash.
Shadow.
Silence.
Written on 24 October 2019.
A year since then and you are still loved in our hearts.
There are moments in life
You have to admit
That you are way to far from
What you thought you were
And that future you imagined
Is never to come —
That moment to give up
On everything
And everything else
And learn about the truth
That you are going to be no one
But hat piece of dust in the eye.
And there it comes again.
That endless cycle of rebirth and failure.
Failure.
Written on 21 August 2019.
In search of nothing.
Halfway to everything.
To become a butterfly,
To become a bee,
To become an ant,
To become a snail,
To become a spider,
To become a hummingbird.
A destined failure.
A blundered decision.
Without sociality,
Without bravery,
Without hard work,
Without persistence,
Without savings,
Without fragility.
To be perished —
Lose, rotten and decay.
The half rotten
And half ripened
Berry.
Written on 31 July 2019.
Portrait of Em. 