I’m done

I’m so tired I’m not a tool for your vengeance I’m so tired I don’t want to spend another sleepless night I’m so tired I don’t want to shed another priceless tear I’m so tired I don’t want to cry myself to sleep anymore I’m so tired Why can’t it just end? I’m so tired I can end my misery so simply I’m so tired I feel like a ball tossed between two ends I’m so tired Each side just scraping off another piece of me I’m so tired Why can’t I turn a blind eye I’m so tired I didn’t take meds to feel like this I’m so tired I wish each pill i swallow would be closer to killing these emotions I’m so tired I’m done with emotions I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so tired I’m so fucking tired

Make it stop.


I’m okay

I’m okay.

I mean, why wouldn’t I be?
The light will shine through my window the next day.

As i wake up and cast my eyes onto a blurry room

And wonder if I’d slept my day away

I would realise soon

That no matter what i say

The day would still go by.
Making tea would be as simple

As it is complicated:

Putting the carefully rolled 

Dried tea leaves

Into a pot

And watching as they open 

And dye the water,

Its influence would captivate its environment.
The tea would change it’s surroundings.

The tea would lose it’s essence.

The tea would be cast away.
The tea wouldn’t be forgotten,

But nothing can replace it.

Its taste.

Its effect.

Unlike an apple once bitten,

Nothing can be used on the empty fit.

It goes to waste.

It becomes inept.
The apple will never become the tea

But the apple is fine;

It is of different elements.

Apple can be used to make tea

But its sweetness will 



The bitter filling sensation.
The day has passed,

More days have passed.

The tea’s effect stayed,

The tea hasn’t stayed.

The apple was still bitten.

The area which was bitten?

It’s still hollow.

And the place where the tea used to be is also hollow.
More days have gone

And the seasons have changed.

It’s still gone.

It hasn’t returned.
I would wake up to the same blurry room.

The sun would still shine through my window.

The sun would go down and up comes the moon,

But there is no sorrow;

Just hollow;

Just emptiness.
But it’s okay.

I’m okay.

The apple is starting to wilt abit.

It’s lost it’s aroma and sweetness.

And the bitten part,

It’s turned brown,

Almost crispy brown.

It’s almost disgustingly pathetic

But it’s still there.
The tea has gone.

It’s all finished now.

But there’s nothing left there

And I’ll have to be okay.
I still wake up to the same blurry room.

Slightly darker than before;

Somewhat alien to me

Despite it being the same scenery.
The sun would still shine through my window

But it’s blinding.

It almost hurts my eyes.

So the shades would have to be drawn.

There’s still no tea

And i’ll have to be okay with that.
The apple would still be there.

It’s completely wilted now.

I wouldn’t want to touch it.

Noone would want to touch it.
It’s a sad apple…

Almost as sad as me.
You have been gone for….

I think I lost count.

But the influence,

It lingers-

The bitter filling envelopment,

But you’re not here.

And I’ll have to be okay

But I’m not.

Thank you

And you thought you’d never heal

And you thought that you’d given up

And you thought that you were never going to love

To cherish

To trust

To believe again

To ever be happy

Only a handful of people are lucky

Only a handful of people would start to believe otherwise

Only a handful of people would think they’d stand up again
The small hope that would salvage your life,

I think I have that again.
And you can call me selfish

But I’m glad I’m one of those lucky ones

And I’m glad to have been found again

And I’m glad that it’s you who found me

A letter to my first real love

No, not to my first boyfriend.

But to the person I felt that I really loved and that I’ll always hold dearly-

You know who you are.

Whether it be just friends

Or even strangers

You’ll always be an important person to me.
I think the only thing I’ll regret most is how you came to love me, only to later on come to hate me;

And how my moodiness ruined everything in the first place.

I still don’t believe that cliche phrase you used: “it’s not you, it’s me”.

Then we both changed after that, it’s neither one of our faults.

But the biggest change I got was that i frankly don’t give a damn about what other people thought of me and my relationship with others.

But you worried.

And people worried.
So even if you’re one of my best friends,

I had to let that go too

You’re still my best friend though

But it’s just abit more different I guess…
I still love you though.

But at the same time I don’t.

I love the person who loved me back;

And the person who would always come back the next day to say sorry even though I was at fault.

Not the person who looks at me with disappointed eyes that say “I dated this person” ,

And definitely not the person who thinks I’m a “mask lady”.

So I really miss the person I love… It’s just that that person isn’t you anymore.

I changed, I have my reasons.

You changed, you have your reasons.

It would be nice if we probably understood one another and don’t let opinions get in the way of our friendship but society’s too cruel for that.

And it’s still taking me a while to get over what happened,

But that’s not your fault.

And that isn’t the reason that’s preventing me from meeting new people either.

I don’t force love.

And I definitely don’t want a person to end up being used to get over you.

But I’ll get over you.

And if I don’t, then it just means I’m probably too stubborn

Or maybe I love you that much.

But if there’s even the smallest bit of possibility that you ever fall in love with me again

I won’t come back because I still had feelings for you.

If that time ever comes, it’ll be back to square one, and we might start from the beginning

Or I might even choose not to reciprocate your feelings.

I don’t think that you might ever come back though, even if I hoped for that.

And I’m definitely not a prophet, so I wouldn’t know what’ll happen.
So even if you hate me now,

I still love you, “as a person” but not in the “love love” in the “romantic” kind of way .

So you’ll always be important.

But I won’t let you get in the way of my future,

Because you won’t be able to anyway,

And I trust you won’t too.

But I really hope you’ll be happy some day whether it be with or without me

And I’ll always be there to support you whether or not you want me to,

But I won’t get in your way.

Please miss me back. 

I guess I knew that you no longer loved me
But there was always a part of me
That hoped you still did
Like how I did you.
It was that little part of me
That’d hope it’ll be alright
But it wasn’t
And it’s so obvious now.
It’s been a month
And I miss you so
But although you don’t miss me
(Or I don’t think you do)
I hoped you miss me.
You better miss me.
Because I feel pathetic being the only one who misses you.
And now I know
Why we clicked so well
And why both of us not being clingy was so nice
Because people keeps asking me how I’m feeling
After you left
There’s barely space for me to calm down
And I don’t like that
And I’m not okay
But I can’t say that
And I can’t say I miss you
But I do.
And I hope you miss me too.
And I know people worry
But I need my space
But apparently it’s not right
To let a broken hearted person be left alone
And all this unnecessary attention
Just makes me miss you even more.

The story of the boy and the girl

There was a boy

And there was a girl.
The boy had a smile that wasn’t perfect
But was sincere.
The girl had a smile that wasn’t sincere
But hid her sorrow.
The boy and the girl met
The boy saw the grace in her actions.
The girl saw the glint of interest in his eyes.
He liked her.
The boy sat and stared into space
Just thinking if the girl.
The girl did not.
She sat and stared into space
Filled with sorrow.
The boy and girl talked one day.
The boy told her stories
Stories about myths and legends 
And stories of his childhood.
The girl listened
With awe
And fascination.
They clicked.
And the boy had erased her sorrows.
The boy and the girl talked more.
They talked day and night
They played games together
But they never talked in real life
Because they were too shy.
The girl had a wager
She was dared to do the wager.
The girl had hoped the boy would respond to the wager
The boy responded.
The girl and the boy had met face to face
Finally accepting each other.
They liked each other.
The boy then called her one day
The first time they ever talked on call
The girl was happy
She was scared 
But happy.
The boy was nervous
His hands shook
And he was unsure
But he did it anyways.
Feelings grew
And then the girl loved the boy.
The boy loved her too.
They would talk
They would laugh
Would cry
Shared secrets
Shared stories
And made nicknames for the other.
They shared songs
And sang from their hearts
Their voices were off pitch
But it was okay
Becayse they loved one another.
They insulted each other
But loved each other.
The boy would say some mean things
And the girl would get mad.
And the girl would do wrong things
And the boy would get mad.
They would fight
But they would forgive.
They apologised
And checked on the other
Because they loved each other.
They disappointed one another
Taunted one another
But always came back to apologise
Because they loved each other.
The girl would be the mother
And nagged and worried too much.
The boy would be the father
And nagged and was overprotective.
But they loved each other.
A year passed.
And then two years.
And then three years.
And the girl loved the boy.
But the boy no longer loved the girl.
The girl knew
But the boy didn’t tell the girl.
Other boys and girls had told the girl
That the boy didn’t love her
And the girl knew
But she denied them.
The boy became colder
And more ignorant
More harsh in his words
And less loving.
But the girl still loved the boy.
The boy would forget
That the girl still cared
But he didn’t want it.
But the girl still did.
She followed
And checked on the boy
She was a cat
Who wanted to be loved
The way she was loved 
When the boy still loved the girl.
She missed the boy.
The boy did not miss the girl.
The girl kept desperately trying
In vain,
The boy could see it
But he could not tell the girl
That he no longer loved her.
The girl was giving up.
The girl knew that
No matter how hard she tried
The boy would not love her again.
She did not know
What she did
And she did not know
What to fix.
The boy took the blame
And did not let the girl blame herself
But she did.
The boy let the girl go
The girl would not let go
And the boy could not stand to hurt her.
So the boy came back.
Still, the girl loved him.
But the boy still no longer loved her.
And did not come back to love her.
The boy
Felt sorry for the girl
Who was trying desperately to hold on
But it was in vain.
The boy no longer loved the girl
And yet the girl loved him still.
The boy
Couldn’t handle hurting the girl
And he let her go
The girl
Still desperately trying to hold on
The boy no longer loved her
But the girl still loved him.
But the girl knew that it was in vain
And gave in to the boy
Who wanted to be left alone
Because her love was a nuisance
And she didn’t want to do that to the boy.
They said their farewells
And became friends.
The boy lived his life like he used to
The girl still smiled with sorrow
And although the boy was now okay
With not loving the girl,
The girl loved the boy.


I don’t know
How the blood that once fed my life
Was now
A poison
That i no longer wanted to accept.
The same flower
That I nurtured
And took care of
In sun or storm
Through day
And night
Was going to be that same flower
That killed me with its thorns.
The painting
That filled the canvas
With bright colours,
Or gloom,
Was now
Like the vacuum
Of oblivion.
The love
I used to call my own
Was no longer
So dear to me.
But yet I still loved him.
But yet I hated him.
The person
I once was,
Was no longer there.
And the lingering words
That waited upon my tongue
And flooded my throat
Had faded away
Along with your name.


“…always with you.

I’ll always be with you.

No matter how far you go, or anywhere at all.

I’ll always be there with you.”

Well, that’s what it was. Life gets so monotonous that you sometimes forget to see that one companion that was always there for you. Your other self. Your shadow.

It’s not like you don’t know it’s there. It’s been following you.

Your one true companion.

“I bet you didn’t notice.”

No… Not that. I did. But I don’t know… It’s not something that can be put to words.

Your shadow was always your best friend. You were never alone. As long as your shadow was there, you could stand tall. There was nothing that could stop you.

You always noticed your shadow.

Your shadow was the best. She could take up a grandeur appearance. She covered all your fears. Your worries, your problems. There was nothing she couldn’t conquer.

“But you never thought of her feelings, did you?”

No… That’s not true. She was the greatest. There was nothing that could seize her. She was unstoppable. Yet at the same time, she wasn’t ignorant. She never left you… She never left me.

She wrote like a genius. The most poetic of all. Not Shakespeare, not T.S Eliot, not Oscar Wilde, not even I could win over her songs on paper.

She wrote great novels.

She was a beauty that noone truly saw.

But still, she was the best. She was unstoppable.

“You sound like you’re lying to yourself. Truly, there isn’t a person so perfect and unstoppable.”

I guess you’re right. It does sound too good to be true. Although it wasn’t so, I felt it was so.

Truly, you know that one person. Let it be your role model, your mother, or father. They were so great. Not like those undefeated dragons in folk tales. They were the older sister you always admired. You hated her. You were always jealous. She was always one step ahead. Yet she had her flaws. That never stopped her though. But above all, you loved her. You admired her. You were genuinely happy for her.

“But you still didn’t think of her feelings.”

Okay… Maybe you’re right. I was wrong.

Because in the dark, you don’t see your shadow. She was there, but you couldn’t see her.

She always knew you. She knew you inside out. She was always looking after you.

But that’s what I was afraid of.

Why me? She was capable of so much more.

Even though she was capable of standing on her own, she never forgot you. Not once. Not at all.

But that’s what you were always afraid of.

You loved the laughs,

The times,

The ties that you cherished,

The jokes that may have gone too far,

The tears you shared when it was too hard,

The troubles of everyday,

Complaining to each other,

Getting mad at each other,

Missing one another.

But that was her flaw.

She was capable of so much.

Yet she never forgot.

She never forgot you.

The you that you never liked.

The you who would spend hours and hours laying in bed just to stare at the blank space between you and your ceiling instead of following the dreams you once abandoned.

“Why is that so?

Why do you insist on casting away your shadow?”

I was afraid.

“What of?”


“What do you mean?”

I was afraid for her.

She has a long future ahead of her.

I don’t want to abandon her.

Call me selfish, but I can’t do that. I love her too much for it.

“Then what are you afraid of?”

I was afraid… that she would not move ahead without looking back at me.

The me that was so afraid to take a step forward.

The me that’s still hiding in the dark, waiting for the chance to find a new light.

I felt that she would wait.

Wait until I found myself.

But that would take too long.

I never intended to caste her away. I didn’t.

“But she knows how to take care of herself. You need not worry about her.”

I know. I know that more than anyone else.

But I’m still scared. It wouldn’t help if she reassured me. This worry won’t go away.


-I know. You don’t have to keep reminding me.

She loves me.

And I love her.

It’s a bond that can’t be replaced.

Although there are similarities, it will never be the same. No matter how you keep searching.

I don’t intend to replace her.

I can’t do that. She’s too dear.

But I can’t drag her down.

Although bonded by this strong string that we call friendship, we’re not the same.

I never forgot her.

I was afraid.

And I still am.


Strolling down the aisle
Decorated with multiple colours of spring.
The wind blows cold and senile.
The warm pocket on your sides
Start freezing up,
Like the pavement that leads to nowhere.
Until you do a little side glancing,
And then the bright lights
Starts fading.
One by one,
And then you are left with nothing.
Just yourself,
as you walk towards the empty air space.