when we used to be happy. the last hours of last year, at royal plaza scotts.
remember?
i was messing around the net and i saw a group on facebook in remembrance of my lit teacher in JC.
something struck me hard and i couldn’t help but shed a tear.
gone so young, miss G. i’ll always remember you, coming to school with your walking stick and you coming to class to teach us, rain or shine, cancer or not. you made class lively with all the poems and your wise words. i’ll always remember you accepted homework that was due two months ago and i remember your kind words about the poem i wrote on the back of my (failed)exam paper.
God bless you, miss G. we’ll miss you. you were the bravest, strongest fighter there ever was.
a year ago i was beautiful on
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love
i was so high i couldn’t see how painful it would be to fall from this pedestal no no not at all. now that i’ve been pushed from the pedestal all i have are broken limbs and bones. it does not matter how broken everything is but the heart and spirit no longer exist. rub the
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seed of satan into my skin
after vigorous copulation with the devil, yes the dull ache can you feel it
-
throbbing throbbing throbbing
away down south like a purple bruise deep inside. clad in all our sins i am me, and will always be, till the day i die, just like beautiful emily says it. if i had stuck to my guns i wouldn’t have ended up
-
shooting myself
in the foot and thighs and heart and soul and us.
the perfect halo of love escapes me. and today someone asked me
-
if i was a faithful person
. i didn’t quite know how to answer that question. i have no faith in me yet i am faithful. faith is not transferable; once gone forever gone poof woof toof! i am gone with the wind
-
irrevocably yours
yet not quite yours was i ever yours i don’t know.
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what IS faith
i want to know
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how does faith feel in my hands
is it silky is it soft is it hard is it steely is it intangible is it how i feel right now.
i am a forgettable piano piece
-
played
by a forgettable pianist in the background of a crowded hotel bar that nobody but the loneliest notice whilst the rest chatter about forgettable things and forget my presence and very being
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i am invisible
and when i end nobody notices but my
-
player
with his tired fingers pining for somebody who scorns him for his low wages and unstable occupation.
you’re like a drug, bad for me, yet i keep hanging on to the last vestiges of the last good moment where it coursed through my veins and made my head soar to high heavens. every time i say i’ll go and leave, i keep running back and i don’t know why. it is that very je ne sais quoi about you i can’t put my finger on that draws me back in a trance every bloody time.
home is in your warm embrace where i find comfort and peace. i wish we’d stop fighting for once.
i just want to count the beautiful specks on your neck and inhale in that warm, familiar scent.
i think we’re past that stage already anyway. new life, chug on.
sigh.
i’m so miserable here i just want to fly back home asap and party and drink my sorrows away……………………..
life sucks(said with as much angst as a 15year old).
it hurt more than i thought it would. be still beating heart, be still. time will heal you. sleepless at seven with the mind running amok in fields of black wheat and being chased by three ghosts in lipstick and rouge. listening to the lesbian drama anthem on repeat and on repeat and the lyrics flash in my head…………………………………..
sigh. so disjointed.
paying penance for my sins.
and because this is how i feel.
this is the moment of truth.
