The Muruku Murmurations

A piece inspired by Avril Lavigne's song titled Nobody's Home. I can relate to this song as sometimes I tend to feel lost. Then that moment of panic/anxiety hits and you tend to look for a safe place or home and you can't find that and you go back to feeling lost.  Broken and bruised, Rejected, Feeling used, She has never felt more dejected. I watch her make the same mistakes again and again, In her eyes I see the pain, Wishing there was something I can do, To help her with what she is going through. Too many problems, She's hit rock bottom, Everything seems to go wrong, She doesn't know where she belongs. She's lost inside, She is all over the place. She's lost track of how many times she has cried, But she tries to put on a brace face. She wants to go home, But home to her is unknown, She doesn't know where it is, Or if it even exists.  - JN 7.00pm, 29/4/2016 (Friday) Home, Kelana Jaya

I am guilty of letting life get in the way of things I want to do. Most of the time when I do let life get in the way, it's because I have no other choice but I am trying not to let it get in the way anymore.  When I was 7, I did ballet, I wanted to continue and do it professionally, My parents thought I was crazy, Life got in the way. When I was 13, my growth slowed down rapidly, I was advised to eat long beans everyday, But being of normal height is something I will never be, Life got in the way. When I was 18, I wanted to get my driving license, I have not taken it since, "The odds are never in my favour," I'd say, Life got in the way. When I was 21, I wanted to go for World Youth Day, That experience was on my bucket list, My heart sinks every time I realize what I missed, Life got in the way. It's something I have to live with, Because there's nothing I can do about it, Not only today but everyday, Life got in the way. I promise

When a door closes, The light glimmers, Awaiting for time that passes, Awaiting for the rain that showers. As hope fades, I wonder what will remain, Like watching a glade, Burnt to ashes- remain. But I was told to hold on to faith, To wield it like a knight's blade, Cut down the many wraiths, Stand by you Lord's grace parade. For you shall remember, that this day, Was your Lord's beautiful play. - Tejh

A photo-inspired poem by a picture I took.  Wahai sayangku, Ku melihat senja di langit, Menukar warna awan & menurun matahari, Dan ku teringatmu. Ku teringat pabila mu mengambilku dari universiti swasta, Dan bila ku menunggu mu habis kerja,  Ku teringat senja pabila kami beriadah, Walaupun ku tak suka bersukan. Ku mengingati senja-senja pabila ku merindui mu, Dan senja pabila kamu merindui ku.  Kami pun sabar menunggu pagi,  Untuk bersua dan berdua.  Tapi sayangku senja itu sudah berlalu, Dan sekarang telah malam,  Ku pernah mengingati mu pada banyak masa,  Tetapi bukan pada senja hari ini.  - SB 7.58pm, 24th March 2016 Kelana Jaya LRT Station

A common question people like to ask is "what would you say to yourself if you could go back in time". Well, I suppose this is what I would say to that 6-year old who was stepping into SK Assunta (1) for the first time. Hey Tengku Amirah, this is for you.  Dear little girl,  With the pigtails and braids,  The crisp pinafore,  And those bleached white shoes.  The one playing Pepsi Cola in the canteen,  And eating fried wantan by the plastic bags,  The same one who goes up to the office,  When her mother isn't there at exactly one fifteen. Steady on little girl,  There is a long road ahead,  Harder games with higher stakes,  All in an attempt to make a bigger name. You will not understand now,  Why the covered girls won't talk to you,  Why your Cantonese is not good enough for the Mandarin speaking girls, And why people look at you funny when you speak English.  Their parents don't listen to The Beatles at home, Or le

If there is one place I'd call home, it'll be my grandparents place in Batu Gajah, Perak. Although I only went there during the holidays or long weekends, that house and place holds a special meaning to me.  This letter is not to someone but it is to the house from my childhood.  Disclaimer: Amachi is Grandmother in Tamil.  The house that built me, The house that is filled to the brim with memories, Although you were a single storey, Every nook and cranny had a story. The porch where we played catching, The drain in the front where we had our paper boat racing, The slope at the back is where I slide down and scrapped my knee, These are the memories that I keep dear to me. Our house was the noisiest on the street, Without the noise, it doesn't feel complete, Kids screaming at the top of their lungs, The adults telling us to be quiet, killing all the fun. You were home to me, A safe place for everybody, You were a place I'd always look forward to go t

Blossom was a TV series that ran through the early 90's. Aside from the usual cartoons and kid shows, I was hooked on this spunky kid with character and attitude. She was like a friend growing up with me. Cheers! Dear Blossom, You ARE AWESOME! To my childhood idol, From the beginning till the end, All the way in the middle, I always wanted to be your friend. Not many people know you, But I was still your fan, To yourself you stayed true, You bring me back to way back when. Six was your partner in crime, She would stick by you through thick and thin, On speed dial, you both talked all the time, She made sure you both had it win-win. Not only did you have a troubled brother, A typical jock for another, Went through growing pains without a mother, On the road as always was your father. Regardless, you frequently had your say, You are intelligent and preposterously correct, Your snappy comebacks mad

Sometimes we go through a dry spell, a time when inspirations is scarce and procrastination becomes our daily bread. Prolonged periods in the dark, A mode of lack and sobriety, Station waggon set to park, Unmoved by the things of the petty. Unable to define the lines, Blurred in the distance, Ignoring the blaring signs, White noise becomes a nuisance. Polluted air fills the clouded mind, Drills and pounding of steel and concrete, Sparks flare as the metal grinds, Construction of misdirected streets. In truth, iron sharpens iron, During the magic hours of the morn, With effort and some bourbon, Inspiration is surprisingly born. Hopefully motivation will strike, Shift gears to produce initiations, Rid away common ideas of the alike, The bore of pathetic imitations. Fresh, new, remarkable ideals, The journey of a perfectionist, Wall breaking imagination appeals, To accomplish the task of this wish list. - SY 12:16H 24th March 2016 In the

The three things I cannot get of my mind right now... Maybe you could call it borderline addictive. Day 24 for NaPoWriMo has got me trying to write a Tritina. A familiar melody from the sultry Blues, Fills the air as my toes tap to the rhythm, And all I want is a dance with you. I scan the floor looking for you, Hoping to indulge in this night of Blues, Let go and pulse to your rhythm. Here you come strutting to the rhythm, Pulling me close in this dance with you, Sway me side to side to the smooth, soulful Blues. That's what you do to me with the rhythm and Blues. -SY 00:10H 8th April 2016 TMS HQ

Today I shoot out the cannons of rhyme for my brother-in-crime, the Ghetto Hitman. Happy Birthday Faris, I hope you have a kickass one & you don't have to kick people's asses today!  Sharp shooter, goal-getter,  Another bro couldn't do better, A voice of reason in dark times, For you today I will rhyme. We sealed the bond of Ghettohood at the dawn of 2010,  You were a solid bro from the beginning even then,  Ensuring I had bunkmates in Tun Mutahir,  And then later introducing me to bro Shahir. Melaka escapades & times in Ghetto town,  Passively supporting each other whenever we were down,  From Ba Pahat Mall to Jonker Street,  The Ghetto Hitman was the one to beat.  It feels like forever ago that we were a merry band,  Now look at you a working and married man,  Don't hang up those nunchucks & the rifle just yet,  There are more adventures in store I bet. This one is for you the best Hitman ever,  Who is silentl

A lot of times this is indeed love.  This You and me, Giddily happy, In absolute bliss, Possibly in too deep,  Not afraid of the leap.  Sometimes that's all it takes,  One smile and I was hooked,  One second of courage,  That's all it took,  a leap of faith,  This.  This, Me and you,    The perfect two,  Willing to fight for this, Doing all we can to pull through,  Knowing this is what we want to do. Waking up wrapped up in your arms,  I must say it's pretty sublime,  Your body connects with mine,  Our fingers intertwined,      You and I collide,         This. This, You breaking me, Haunting my sleep,  Making it seem so easy,  Giving me something to forever miss,  And breaking the promises you vowed to keep. You drove away from the car crash of my heart, He picked up the pieces part by part, I don't think I can do it again,  I cannot love but,   I'll compromise This.  - JN 11.0

Our very first quartet collaboration!  Amore, j'adore, I wish you weren't such a bore, If only it was a case of it's not you, it's me, But a future together I do not foresee. Prithee love, my turtledove, Thou doth shame the stars above, With gas and matter their form is set, But thy windbag brain's more gaseous yet. Your jokes be unfunny & aren't even punny, They lack wit so please sit, I mean it when I say I do not want to stay, And I am more than capable of going away my way. Rose bouquets have withered, The scent from your cologne lingered, A stench like death choked me, Reeking rotten flesh the haunts dauntingly. Too much of a good thing can be everything, Or a poison that will leave you with nothing, Methemphetamine, Xanax, Vodka or Tequila, What is left of me after these will be nada. Roses red, lilies white, Can't you find some cyanide? Cynicism, melancholy and tragedy, Put an end to thi

Wrote this buzzed from Spartan Super, thinking about how nice it would be to have someone to put aloe vera gel on my sunburns for me. The simple things matter.  Kiss my sun-kissed skin. Your warm breath will cool my skin like no aloe vera can. Hold my bruised hand. Brush your fingers gently against the swollen knuckles as I press my palm deeper into yours. Brush away the mud from my hair. Despite three shampoo sessions your fingers running through them is still the best conditioner. Gently graze my wounds. Count the scrapes & bruises in the places I didn't even know they existed.  As I lay here alone & aching,  I realized that there is no recovery or cure from the aching for you. - SB 2.51am, 21st March 2016 Ghetto HQ

This letter is written to my dear friend and all loving nature enthusiast, Kamini. Over the years, distance has kept us separate. Be it postcodes, different schools or continents, this is one long distance relationship worth keeping and proof that distance shouldn't be a hindrance to love somebody.  Dear long but not lost friend, Even till today, I still miss you, As my day comes to an end, Remorse over comes me. Knitted by years of friendship, All still fresh in my mind, My heart wonders why, It takes so long for me to touch base, Not sure of what I needed to find, I guess I never wanted to say goodbye. Knowing your dreams are now reality, Earnest in all your efforts, Soothes my distant heart, Always hoping the best for you, Vindicating your ambitions, Always believing in what is true, Now and always, I will be here for you. - SY 19:34H 3rd August 2016 Taman Jaya

This one's for you, Spastic. Growing up together, Going with your family for holidays in Bukit Tinggi, I was part of your family, Your parents even said we were like sisters. We had bonded over our love for Mis Tres Hermanes and One Tree Hill, We clicked almost instantly, We all know how rare that is for me. I remember how we'd always find every excuse to hang out and chill. We gave each other silly nicknames, Even had the cliche half and half best friends necklace, The memories are endless, It didn't matter if people thought we were insane. When I moved school, we kind of drifted apart, We still talked but that closeness was lost, But I'm glad this friendship didn't get tossed, Doesn't matter how far away we are, I will always be your Retard.  - JN 10.45am, 14/4/2016 (Tuesday) Home, Kelana Jaya

It is funny that sometimes the people you grew up with are barely recognizable as teenagers or adults. You drift apart and pick up different lifestyles or life principles, and you are no longer as close as you were. Innocence is sometimes the glue that keeps friendships together, and as you lose that, you lose the friendship too.  You & I, Were two peas in a pod. The misfits of religious classes through the years, We didn't care that we were odd. You & I, Were two in many trios, Of friends that changed schools & classes, But they couldn't interrupt our flow. Suddenly you, Decided you were too good for me, With your large inheritance & fancy new things, Rising up to be alleged Queen Bee. You, Were too upscale now for mamaks, No air-conditioning and greasy food, You only want to hang at Starbucks. I, Tried to keep up for a while, Thinking our friendship was worth the fight, But the way you lived was not my lifestyle. Suddenly I, Got ki

Different people react to rejection differently, some worse than others. Cringe and twitch, With every syllable, That fills the empty airwaves, With words so detestable. Your disapproval, Of my incompetence, Exudes in your voice tones, Embedding into my remembrance. The very cells of my brittle bones, Hollow out to disintegrate, Faster than the osteoblasts, Are able regenerate. The tissues of my cartilages, Melt and deconstruct, At the use of your words Targeted with misconduct. Deep within underneath my skin, Tingling laced with anxiety, Rigor infused with fear, Holding on very briefly. Soon nothing is left, But a bare frame, Broken and without form, Never the same. - SY 18:20H 7th March 2016 Jalan Pahang SY is a 'Jacqueline of all trades' who loves wearing plaids. She doesn't believe in things that fade and fulfills the promises that she made. She seeks the hearts of the troubled, to be a listener in times wh

If Walls Could Talk holds a special place in The Muruku Sisterhood's heart and played the biggest part in us writing again. Gaslight Cafe has been so kind as host If Walls Could Talk every month. Lately they have been facing a problem with people not paying the entrance fee and going there and not supporting Gaslight by (at least) buying a drink. So this is a PSA to all those who go for If Walls Could Talk - let's all support each other in whatever way we can. If walls could talk they'd tell you to respect the rules, It's common courtesy, But then again common courtesy is not common anymore unfortunately, So people end up behaving like fools. If walls could talk they'd tell you to appreciate the platform they've given you, A safe space to read your poetry,           That only charges a ten ringgit fee,       So buy a drink even if there's a queue. If walls could talk they'd tell you not to be a mainstream hipster, You follow 'The Idiot&

It's been a while since I have written something in the voice of 'Brighteyes'. Maybe she will return with more romance in her words and wear that blissful smile once again. This. Just us, You and I, Love next to me, At the break of dawn, The sun rays kiss my skin, Your heat and warmth keeps me cosy. Deeply inhale your scent in these sheets, Your fingers caress my tangled locks, The macro view of your lashes, My pupils fixated on yours, Tracing every facial line, Memorising your smile, Drawing closer, Sunrise. Dazed. Half asleep, Still and glowing, Slowly my head sinks, In your torso and curves, Hold me securely in your arms, Beat my ear drums with your heart. Run your fingers down my spine rivetingly, Our breathing in-synch with each other, Whisper "Good Morning my sweet." Kiss my forehead gently, A beautiful moment, Every morning, Forever. - SY 12:55H 12th April 2016 Titiwan

A note to self and also to all those going through a hard time. Always remember they don't last and things will get better.  Even the best fall down sometimes, Always remember you will be fine, Try not to lose your cool, Taking out your frustration on others only makes you a fool. Tough times don't last, Most times they go by really fast, Take a deep breath, Don't give in to the stress. Your time will come someday, Patience is a virtue, they say, Just believe and have faith, Let things happen according to it's own pace. You will fall short from time to time, You're only human so that's perfectly fine, They'll try and tell you that that's not ok, Don't listen to what they say. For every dark night, There is a brighter day, For every battle you have to fight, You're getting stronger everyday.  - JN 2.45pm, 14/4/2016 (Thursday) Home, Kelana Jaya

I kept it secret from my parents that I dreamed of three black pigs slaughtered along the mountain trails I was treading. I kept it secret from my parents that I did sangbo. We butchered three chickens and did the id-idew. We checked the bile and prayed that whatever omen that comes is good. My parents knew I missed two flights. They clasped their Bible and prayed for my safety to Jesus Christ. I kept it secret from my parents that I did the things they used to do then before I travel to baba for competitions - choose a good chicken, strike its wings, legs, and head with a hard stick til’ it dies, butcher it, check its bile, then pour its blood together with tapey on the earth. I kept these things from my parents. Because since they accepted their savior Jesus Christ, they kept a lot of things too. Like the kuli underneath our lababo. The earthen jar that used to contain fermenting rice is now a secret hiding place of cockroaches. - Dumay

Defensive women are not born, they are made. Out of heartaches too many & shards of broken promises. From twinkling eyes and cheeky smiles that have shot bullet holes through them. Okay that's enough personifying, let's get to the poem now.  I build up these walls to protect myself from you, For your piercing eyes & dimpled smile tends to hit at all the right places, Before I know it shots are fired & I am on the ground. But you're not a medic to tend to the wounded, Or even a Roman admiring your conquest, No. You're just a fickle man with a short attention span, And you WILL leave me there to die. So I lick my wounds & salt them with my tears, The pain will make me stronger I say, get rid of my fears. I lay brick by brick with the passing of each day, Forgetting to remember that you've gone away. So now that you've returned & the wall is fortified, Behind these walls I will sit & hide, They will not talk to you, that&

I let the fear get the best of me. Take a chance is what I wish you would do, Like in those romantic movies you love that sometimes make you weep, One second of courage is all takes to make that leap, I wish you would bid the fear adieu. I wish you were tall, Then maybe you wouldn't feel so small, I wish you'd believe it when you say size doesn't matter, And when you're made fun of, your confidence doesn't shatter. There are a lot of things I wish you were, Mostly I wish you'd get rid of your fear, We'll just have to wait and see, If one day you will be gutsy.  - JN 2.45pm, 12/4/2016 (Tuesday) Home, Kelana Jaya

Hopefully this will be a message for the person I will be in the near future. May your days be filled with hope, Always resounding with joy, Regret nothing from those slippery slopes, Inspire generations with your legacy, Entertain the world with your poetry. Walk confidently with a steady stride, Overcome each overwhelming obstacle, Never lose your Light, your Guide, Give testimony for all your miracles, Savour every moment with your family, Watch your children grow gracefully, Indulge with your spouse frequently, Take a break after working profusely. Yearn for wisdom and experience, Endeavor, encounter, and gain influence, Never stop soaking in His presence. - SY 14:15H 12th April 2016 Titiwangsa

Sometimes life throws you so many curveballs and pelts you with difficulties, you subconsciously build up walls to protect yourself from everything that is out there, including sometimes, the really good stuff.  I wish you could love freely, Without worrying about currency, And whether you are too much or not enough, And just love. I wish you could see beauty, In the eyes of the couple on the dance floor, As he literally sweeps her off her feet, To the beat. I wish you did not groan, Every time you hear those stupid love songs, Melodies you were once guilty of singing out loud, And so proud. I wish you could be gentle, When people approach you with caution, You dismiss them quickly & say they won't understand the parts, Of your heart. I wish above all that you were you, But just a little bit more graceful and subdued, So that people would have a chance to see, The inner me. - SB 11.25pm, 11th April 2016 Ghetto HQ

A decade had passed since I first walked down the alleys of down town KL, when I was in my first year or medical school. I walk down these alleys again after a year of being in Medicine, I had realised how much I have changed since then. I walked down this quiet alley, About ten years ago, My thoughts back then and now do not tally, As ten years passed, I did grow. A decade ago, I watched the stray cats scurry about, Listen to the rustling of the leaves, I was filled with uncertainty and doubt, Unsure of what I should believe. I had the energy to be hopeful, My pace was quick with excitement  I was innocent and joyful, Unharmed by life's upcoming detriments Now, I notice Ah Chai's workshop sign, I remember that my car is overdue for servicing, I smell the stench of the humans that reside, Homeless, filthy, drugged and starving. The crows in the trees peering down, I avoid the risk of being their target practice, Traffic

The ones who are different are shunned. People refuse to be friends with them because they're different. Differences should be celebrated.  Here's to the ones who are called weird, The ones who are wired differently, Never ever change. They will try to get you to change, Because they think it's wrong to be weird, But its actually a beautiful thing to be able to think differently.     Celebrate the fact that people label you weird, So what if you think differently? Don't ever change. I am wired differently, and like you, I have been labelled weird and called names but I will never change.  - JN 1.45pm, 9/4/2016 (Saturday) Home, Kelana Jaya

Inside every woman is a fangirl bursting to come out gushing over her favourite celebrity. Especially the male ones who have raised her unrealistic expectations of men. For today's #NaPoWriMo entry I decided to manage said expectations through this poem. You don't need to be Heath Ledger,  And publicly sing "Can't Take My Eyes Off You",  There are other ways of bringing pleasure,  Other little things you can do. I don't expect a Hiddleston smile,  Just come and maybe stay a while,  We could talk about Crimson Peak,  About how Loki's stare makes me weak. I'd be flattered if you gushed like Hugh Jackman,  Does almost every time about his wife,  I don't expect huge statements,  Proclaiming that you need me in your life. I don't expect to be kissed in the rain,  Or be promised an "Always & Forever" by Nathan Scott,  I save myself a lot of unnecessary pain, By being content with what I've got. Don't pull

I stumbled upon a prompt and I found it really interesting so I decided to write my own take on it. Writing this was an experience on it's own as I kept picturing myself it this situation and it was a pretty hard thing to go through.  The prompt : You were involved in a terrible car accident and have been in a coma for the past three months. What your family and the doctors don’t know is that you can hear everything that they say. Write the scene. Where am I? Why can't I open my eyes? I hear people talking, Why are they whispering? I'm cold, Really cold, "There is no other choice", Who is that? I don't recognize that voice, I hear sobbing, I hear footsteps approaching, I hear various machines beep, Maybe this is all a dream and I am asleep. Now I remember it clearly, I can see his face, the drunk driver who hit me,   And here I am in a coma because of his stupidity, And he walks away with just a scraped knee. I can't see, move or sp

A collaborative piece about the thoughts that pace through the mind of a fallen angel. From the pedestal up above to the grunge down below, where will she go from here? It starts off as a small, innocent thought, Of unattainable desires that flutter through her mind, Unsure of what she may discover and find, Never expecting it would turn out filled with distraught. What lies yonder beyond this enclosed sector, Should she attempt to take a little peek, To feed her curiosity is what she seeks, To taste that desirable sinful nectar. She drinks of that intoxicating wine, Deeper she goes and deeper still, She Believe that these pleasure become real, Allowing her veins to get tangled and entwined. Stupor and succumbs to weakness, Judgement impaired and eclipsed, Into dark water her body slowly dips, Unknowingly, she falls into a twisted sickness. This wretched sin, She says, "Stab a stake in me, Bleed me out and let me be." To end all that had be

Everyone's patience has its limits. This one goes out to the girls and women who have compromised so much for so little, who have put up with men who were barely worth their time, and the ones who try so hard to act casual when it is really killing them inside.  I’m done waiting for you. This means waiting for your texts, your replies, and for you to show up. I’m not waiting for the next date, or the next conversation, or the next moment to look into your eyes. I’m done smiling at you. I’m not thinking going to sit around dissecting every great moment & bursting it into confetti in my mind and smiling at myself.  I’m not going to smile at my phone, my reflection that I catch in the mirror as I think of you, or even at that dog picture you shared on Facebook. I’m done flirting with you. I’m tired of trying to act casual yet show you I’m interested, and question myself thrice before I send you a text or call you. It is exhausting constantly wondering if n

I was having trouble finding a person to write this letter to, until day before yesterday when the case of a transgender event getting disrupted by religious authorities. I realized that despite all my efforts & relationships with my trans-mothers and trans-sisters, I still am not doing enough. And for that, I should apologize, as should the many people who have stood by and watched them get stigmatized & discriminated against.  For the long silence, And the little noise that followed. For the quiet side eye, Before the close contact. For not understanding, Before the heart’s true bleeding. For the lack of education, In this conservative nation. For the many arrests, Putting many more to test. For all this, And the very little I have done, I am sorry. - SB 4.22pm, 5th April 2016 Sani Hotel 

I have always found it difficult to talk to you, especially now, more than ever. You never understood and I can't be the person you want me to be. For that I am sorry and I wish you could forgive me. Please forgive me, As difficult as it is, As unacceptable as I am, Please, forgive me. I fall short, Countless times, Time and time again, I fall and fall again. You gave me a life, A life of essentials, Essentially, your life, I owe you a life. I am not perfect, A failed perfectionist, Flawed with mistakes, A rejected perfectionist. You have your ways, Your ways are not mine, The former will never be yours, The latter will never be mine. Please forgive me, For going my own way, For things I will never say, Please, forgive me. Sincerely, -SY 14:53H 5th April 2016 Chow Kit

To the Big Man upstairs, this one's for you and I hope you forgive me too.  I hope you can forgive me, For not being the person you want me to be, There were many times that I let you down, But you never once did frown.     Please accept my sincere apology, I am trying really hard but it's not easy,   I know you only want what's best for me, A good person is what I aspire to be. Thank you for always having my back,     And sending me subtle messages that are always perfectly timed, Thank you for always keeping me on the right track, And for always reminding me to be kind.  - JN 3.45pm, 2/4/2016 (Saturday) On the LRT

As of recent,  I was spending a substantial amount of time in concrete multistorey buildings, standing in balconies and inhaling cigarettes smoke. Then the muse to write came about and this piece was born. Storeys of concrete walls, Along which cigarette ashes fall, Bits of grey crumbling flakes, From the sticks of a depressive wake. A double tap and a flick, So the ashes fall from that burning stick, Exhales of emptied toxic smoke, Nicotine highs for the bunch of blokes. Passed a male with too much flare, Then chuckles echoed the stale air, There goes the last puff of amberred tobacco, It's time to go back to putting on a show. - SY 20:00H 25th December 2015 Bukit Bandaraya .

Had a "look out the window & contemplate life" moment over lunch when I thought about the progressions of my "I Love You"s. It is amazing how we start off so open & free with our love, and it is an innocence that I will never have again, thanks to many dents in the heart.  When I inhaled my first "I love you", It was but a whisper, A small three lettered phrase that floated into my ear, And embedded itself in my brain. When I exhaled my first "I love you",  I was inches away from his face, Looking into those slits that were meant to be mine forever. I learned over time that you can exhale an "I love you", And leave it hanging in the air, Waiting expectantly to be claimed or reciprocated. I learned also that sometimes,  It is best to hold your breath,  And keep the "I love you" in. Now there are no more "I love you"s.  No inhaling or exhaling of any kind. Just me, holding my br

This is one of those moments when you feel helpless in your own mind. Finding it and losing it at the same time. It feels like waking up from a dream in to a nightmare of reality. This is truly the absence of sanity . For Day 2 of #NaPoWriMo I have ransacked my mind, A thousand times, Trying to figure out, The routes and paths, Once or twice, I rummage the wreckage of my brain, Inside and out. Shouldn't there be resolution? Since I searched so thoroughly, It is a labyrinth, The walls and passages, They all look the same, I tried and attempted, There never was a way out. - SY 1300H 2nd April 2016 Jalan Pahang

Whether we admit it or not, at some point in our life, we've wanted to be Disney Princesses but sometimes not for the reasons we think.  Her skin is not white as snow, She's got no seven dwarfs in tow, She wishes she could eat a poisoned apple, So she'd fall into deep sleep and wouldn't feel so shackled She feels like Cinderella,                   Although they think she's more like Anastasia or Drizella, She's got no Prince Charming, In fact, her story is pretty haunting. She has to drag herself out of bed everyday, Most days she wishes she could prick her finger, And like Aurora, fall into a deep deep slumber, But she gets up and plasters on a smile anyway She loves the ocean and it's clear blue water, Very much like Triton's daughter, Along the way she lost her voice, Unlike Ariel, it wasn't by choice. Held captive by the Beast to replace her father, That's how she feels everyday while she silently suffers, They'll