An Abandoned Antique

My taste buds have retired;
everything they taste is bland like the truth.
My eyes have given up trying to squint through the smoke
that never flickers; it seems to haunt me like my ghost.
Now I can no longer see the familiar faces;
I wonder if they hide amidst the still smoke.

The polluted air is choking me;
desensitizes my senses, one by one.
It is harsh, like iron clamps, it resists me
from living what is left of my wasted life.
I miss the ones I used to know in the queerest way.
Silence screams wordless anguish at me.

The smoke is toxic; it makes me cough so hard,
and each time I do, I emit parts of my soul;
it is killing me little by little,
scarring me like a cruel disease.
The hidden ones cannot see me.
Or are they even searching?

Gravity's Toy

When I fall,

earthlings dance in my midst.
They bathe in my glory,
and let me seep through their home.

I bring to them colour and health,

like moisturizing a woman’s skin.
I console when my lover is too harsh,
and together we create a halo around the world.

When I stop,
they shed quiet, sad tears,
relishing any traces of me that linger,
rejoicing the treasure I left them.

I am a nomad, the cloud is my caravan.
I mingle with the elements,
tickling the skies so hard they cry,
entertaining the earth so.

I am the only exception to gravity;
for he likes my boisterous attitude,
he lets me play to my heart’s content
as long as I return home after.

Nature's Vein

Ugly eight-legged creature,

the colour of nature.

I swallow my morose feelings

I'm chained to the still saplings.

I blend in, glad to be invisible,

I am the leaf's heart, untraceable.

Unable to face the cruel soil anymore,

I encase myself, but still flows the gore,

I'm shying away from the world, a coward!

Keeping my sore heart from moving toward

the unknown; I do not want it wounded.

By the cocoon, a product of my fear, I am bounded.

But my betraying fortress, it crumbles

Inviting me to fall down to my troubles

But nature, she comes to my aid,

And into the green I do not fade,

For she gifts me with wings so colourful.

Like the rainbow, I take flight and drink up the world so plentiful.

I made my choice

I have spent a lot of time, wondering when I would have the guts to do it. Sometimes I would be desperately searching for the blade, then ending up crying in a pile on the floor when my fingers were too frantic and my eyes were too blurred to find it. Sometimes I would be calmer and would find it the moment I walk into the room – I know exactly where it is kept since I finger it every day, wishing I could satisfy the metal that yearns for my blood.

But I couldn’t respond to that tantalizing voice that whispers my name, almost seductively, coaxing me to just do it. It’s just a cut. Until now, I have succeeded in ignoring the voice. It fades away, disappointed. Because when I see that blade, the first thought that comes into my head is the ones I love – the few ones who have always stood by me, the ones who have been the only reason I’m still alive. I restrained myself just for them.

But it can’t go on for the rest of my life. I’m just not destined to get baggy skin and cloudy eyes. I know you’re supposed to prepare for the worst, hope for the best, work hard in life for your passion, choose what you think is the right path for you and leave the rest up to destiny. But I have chosen my path – to take my destiny and my life into my own hands.

I take a deep breath, and pick up the small but significant tool, my fingers running over the gleaming silent metal whose edges scream a thousand wordless thoughts. It’s beautiful – how just one slash of pain has the potential to bring utter bliss. My steady fingers press the blade to my wrist, bringing together warm blood and cold metal – like a couple embracing after a million years of silent yearning.

My vision blurs frequently, and then becomes clear again, like a throbbing pulse. I watch, drugged, as the blood flows down slowly in a straight glistening, crimson line. It bifurcates into two, three, four lines; beautiful patterns contrasting with my pallid skin. They become smudged when I stumble. I watch as the elixir of my life flows out, as my life leaks out of the physical realm where my mental senses are contained. It’s a cliché, but unfortunately, my life runs before my eyes like a fast-forwarded horror movie. No, I don’t want a flashback! I immediately squeeze my eyes shut and uselessly cover my face with my bloody arms, but to my dismay, it keeps running, uninterrupted, on the insides of my eyelids, and then it’s over. Whew.

My image blurs, and so does the pain. This is it! I can still feel my life being cruelly sucked out of me, but it is almost over. And then, I am no longer seeing or feeling. My soul and spirit take full control. I am no longer contained inside the walls of my body. I have finally burst the bubble.

Quiet, calm relief envelopes me. I’m finally at liberty, finally free from the clamps and chains that have been trapping me to the face of the earth, to my life. I can still feel the decision I made, to the core of my soul, in the eye of the hurricane. But I do not remember my worries or anything, even the reason why I am free. Ignorance truly is bliss.

The Barred Window

She lies on the grimy floor of the dungeon,
Dreaming of feeling the soft grass between her bare toes,
She longs to see, taste, touch, hear and feel every bit of the free world,
She covets laughter, love and life.

Her cheeks are stiff with dried tears,
Her face and fragile body stained with filth,
Red veins are scattered on the whites of her eyes,
From many sleepless nights.

She peers out the barred window
And watches others live unrestricted,
Like a starved child, drinks up the scarce sunlight
Pouring in through the window in pitiful quantities.

She has company in this prison of hell,
But they do not know of life outside the iron clamps,
They refuse to be enlightened,
For they are forever cursed with blindness.

Refusing to remain contained, she makes a vow,
For her destiny is not to stare wistfully at the keyhole,
She smiles in anticipation as she glances out the window again,
For she will find the key.