Perhaps this is it. Perhaps, all those negative talks before were just my wishful thinking-- that maybe not everything has an expiry date. It was just me consoling myself and telling myself to expect things to turn out wrong. Now that they have turned out bad, I've lost my platform- what do I tell myself now? There's nothing else to expect.
If I thought I was lost before, then I really don't know what I am now.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
I tried labeling the pieces by numbers, alphabets even to make the job easier- gluing the scattered bits together apart from getting them lost. If i lose them, that would be another different thing, another problem even harder to fix. So no, the pieces need go into an old brown box, one that has been collecting too much dusts over all the years- all the years i've taken to fix this. I picked the pieces each- one by one, and place them gently in the box, and they must all be in the small wooden cuboid before the sun comes up.
When the sun is shining, that's when i drift to slumber land. To unload the weight my bones carry, to allow my flesh unclench from all the hard work and so my mind could untangle itself.. and my heart.. perhaps a stronger glue might help.
When the sun is shining, that's when i drift to slumber land. To unload the weight my bones carry, to allow my flesh unclench from all the hard work and so my mind could untangle itself.. and my heart.. perhaps a stronger glue might help.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Monday, April 1, 2013
I would plant flowers in me, if that could help. Maybe grow a few dahlias or tulips, and plant green patches of green grass here and there. I want purple flowers to bloom around my rib cage- maybe place a birdbath next to a bed of roses. I want a garden in me, i want to live. I want to live.
.. because some nights i wake up not knowing if i'm still alive.
.. because some nights i wake up not knowing if i'm still alive.
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