flowerthinkshimmers
(I)
From afar, the girl looked at
me.
Faired-skin, red lips, black hair,
rosy cheeks.
The eerie resemblance –
only I can tell the difference.
(II)
As I stepped in closer, closer and closer,
she appeared no nearer.
An illusion?
(III)
The girl wore a black shirt,
Way too over-sized
for her liking;
for my liking.
It made her disapprovingly cold,
distortedly grievous and
disproportionately raw.
She took one step back,
further.
(IV)
When she was asleep, I curiously rolled her sleeves:
Shock across my face,
Strokes across her now
sore, fragile, body.
She can’t feel her legs.
Hugging the numbness
in despair
for the last hope of self-love,
she swore in her dreams and
more often
in her nightmares
that never will she do this to her children.
(V)
Bruises bloomed across her skin.
Once, twice,
Again.
I vividly remember:
They were in shades of heart-breaking purple and
abominable blue.
At 7,
she was
helpless,
helpless.
(VI)
The brutal, callous world was on her
shoulders.
She seemed like only a piece of comparison –
of only diluted, weak worth.
Frustration, Frustration!
All that was in her mind was
"The world was against her."
And each time she'd looked into the mirror,
sobbing:
“Why, oh, God, do I exist?”
(VII)
Every word from her only sounded like dissonance,
foreign material
Passer-bys judged her ruthlessly;
it made her despise the sound of her name.
She built a wall around herself –
Three seas deep and
seven mountains high.
She hated. She envied.
She questioned the meaning of Family,
She probed the presence of Love.
(VIII)
One night I visited her again:
still from far.
On nights when she wasn’t trembling in fear,
She read.
Books became her refuge,
in them she found her imaginary kingdom.
She pictured,
she explored,
she fulfilled and
she lived.
A tiny body cuddled in the corner of her bed.
(IX)
She knew only in books she could
find comfort.
She knew only in books she could
silent
the hysterical screams
of bitterness, lost and revenge.
She swore that books were better
than man.
Each drop of tear cried away furry;
Freedom is not far away.
Only knowledge can set her apart,
She knew,
she knew.
***
(X)
She grew up.
I can now clearly
see that she choose to vaguely remember
the screams,
the scars,
the "you" who destroyed her childhood.
But,
never could she really forget.
It flows in her traumatized
veins.
Yet,
She now echoes to herself:
"Tough time never last,
tough people do."
She now stands before me.
The girl, the girl
I can now only vaguely remember –
is none other than the girl in my
mirror.
Now the I see
more resemblance,
This time I know that it is truly
me.
P.S. Amongst all this past that I have already decided to burry as I write this prose/poetry, I would like to thank my Heavenly Father for loving me first and showing me how to love the world. Little by little, you swallowed my angst against this world, you replaced my brokenness with your everlasting, unfailing love that I will ever be eternally grateful for. You showed me that your unwavering love can move the mountains of hatred and fill the gaps of solemn darkness in my deep sea of revenge and jealousy. You told me that the meek will inherit, that the pure at heart will see truth. Truly, in your trusty right hand, I was re-born again. In this new body and with this revolution, I can only express my sincere gratitude. Each time I come to you and pray to you, I know things can only get better. For the first time, you put a genuine smile on my face. Even when I was reflecting on the past (while writing this), made me wonder how I walked out of depression and agony. The only conclusion that I can come to: is you, Jesus. It would have been impossible without you, my saviour, my refuge and my strength. Thank you, Father. I love you.
Someone needs to teach me how to love
and accept the love I should deserve.
I once begged you to stay but now it's all different.
I don't even know why I have a fetish to avoid love given to me
and make myself so miserable.
Perhaps its the insecurities -
do they dread my thorns or
will they love my fragrance and
do they accept that I come in blood
red colour?
It is dysfunctional.
I must be.
You taught me about the constants in Chemistry -
Avogadro's Number, Boltzmann constant, Gas constant.
You taught me about life -
you were once a devoted Christian but now
thinking that it was all naive;
faithless atheist.
You taught me about the minuscule, the unimaginable -
atoms, molecules and their
bonds.
But,
you'd never know -
All I could think of was bonding time with you,
praying to God to bring you back to church,
that somehow I can plant a seed of faith in you.
And
you'd never know -
All the constant
thoughts of having you in my mind, in my dreams:
dimpled cheeks, deep red lips.
You taught me that loving you
things will never stay the same.
***
I erupt at the thought of us making love,
leaving my body so empty and needy for your
beautiful fingers.
(so won't you stay with me
that's all i need.)
feel the beat of the tambourine
its beautiful sound against all these
dissonance.
Pursuit - comes in many different shapes, sizes and forms.
The most highly pursued pursuit: Happiness.
While chasing pavements, we lose ourselves.
We forgot why we started and where we first were.
Happiness, really?
One day,
I found a conversation with my reflected self:
"why do you chase after uncomparable beauty and intangible facets of people's life?"
Perceived happiness.
To only realize that many things that we longed and lust and yearn so much for in this world
are not meant;
are not meant for;
are not meant for us;
are not within reach.
Oh, boy! I tried, I prayed.
He echoed, "to be contented with what you have."
For we each are unique,
seek to be deeply but not widely loved.
True happiness.
Walk gently on this Earth,
love passionately and
give more than you could give.
Shared happiness.
Breathe in.
Exhale.
Let go, gracefully -
of what is not meant for you.
Don't be shadowing what is of the world,
live in the moment firecely,
leave no regrets behind.
Inhale.
Breathe in,
again.
Are also thorns that accompanied your words which scarred me
internally and eternally.
Glowing
is your skin against the natural lighting of the sun.
Nothing more beautiful,
Nothing more I could ask for.
I would love you (your skin and bones) gently
like the rays laid on your body by the light of dawn.
Glowing
is your skin against the natural lighting of the sun.
Nothing more beautiful,
Nothing more I could ask for.
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