The Game

*Something i wrote when I was seventeen.

 

I am a vegan

Who feels sorry

For the suffering animals’ souls

 

I am a virgin

And yes I’m seventeen years old

But I feel

Like I’m one of those

Suffering animals’ souls

 

So I put up the walls firm and tall

This way, I can heal

From the wounds which cut me deeply

That I bleed

Every single night in my dreams

Where I see myself left

With only bones

Buried in the bottom of the dungeon

To which

I am confined

 

Yes, I’m seventeen years old

A vegan and a virgin

I can easily

Spit out these identities

But still feel baffled

Still, feel frazzled

 

why?

My parents asked me

They never fathom

 

Every day, I try

I think

It’s because every day I try

To be “something”

Be polite, be positive

Be generous, be happy, be a lady

Talk louder, be a boss, but not too bossy

Be indispensable, be in control

Make us proud

But remember

Be yourself

 

I am tired

Of this game that we call life

Playing by the rules

Written for someone else

With a knife on my throat

I toss the dice

And try to survive

 

But this game is not fair

Not from the very beginning

 

They say even though

Life itself is an empty existence

Aspire to fill it

With a sense of belonging

 

But hey

I did not consent

To playing this game

Yet here I am

Trying to makes sense

Of all that I have not signed up for

 

I am tired of this game

And if the game writers

Have mercy at all

They

Would just leave me alone

 

I can’t recognize myself anymore

Like the suffering

animals’ souls

 

I remember

When I was twelve

Standing next to a bookshelf in my room

With Anna Karenina in my hands

Telling dad that I hope to study literature

and philosophy in the future

 

He told me blatantly

That I couldn’t possibly

make a career out of it

 

he wanted me

to be more like him

a lawyer

or perhaps

a law professor

 

I remember in middle school

I wished I could be

More like my brother

Because apparently

He was a born winner

And was adored by every creature

 

I was not made for this game

And that wasn’t acceptable

For a kid in middle school

She just wanted to be normal

No one liked that girl

Who sat in her seat

Reading all day long

Lacked of human interaction

 

You see

I think the rules of this game

Is written for and written by

People like my brother

 

Over the years

I slaughtered myself

Changing the soul

Bit by bit

Compromising

To society norms

 

I don’t recognize myself anymore

Like the suffering

animals’ souls

 

and if the people in this game

have mercy at all

they

would spare me a round

and leave me alone

Dear Me

Dear Me,

You are the glaring fire soaring upon burnt ashes

You flicker and hover in the air

I hear the hoarse sound of torture you utter

 

People around you

lit up the very fire that you have become

They watch you burn

Glory goes to the fire

Pretty

Unnoticeable pain

 

They tell you

how brave you are

There is nothing more beautiful

Than fire so bright in the dark

 

they see the beauty

Yet you feel the agony

You tried to undo it

To see a path

But in darkness

All you see is darkness

 

You were made to light up the world

But you feel the scorching heat

that’s burning inside

Melting you down

And you scream so loud

that all you hear is tears

 

But your tears are invisible,

Almost non-existent

They can’t put down the fire

And no one hears you scream

 

They just look at you

And tell you how brave and beautiful you are

They keep on saying

There is nothing more beautiful

than fire shining so bright in the dark

I Decided Today

I decided today

that I do not exist

I am merely

an imaginary story

 

Every person I have ever encountered

is my storyteller

 

They will tell you

about the woman they see

the way she smiles

The taste of her laughter

Which seems to cover

the agony she tries so hard to hide

They will tell you

About how sweet

and how innocent she is

 

ask my brother and he

will unravel my inner darkness for you

He will tell you

How lost I am

But baby

I am not lost

I simply

Do not exist

 

I look at myself from afar

And I see my brother

my father and mother

I see my friends my relatives

And some strangers

Across the streets

At the coffee shop

Bookstores or theater

 

They see me

But there has never been a me

I am nothing

But their imaginary story

 

Every day Is a Silent Hallelujah

Every day

is a silent hallelujah

For it is suffer that we mostly face

Daggers made of honey

is what we embrace each day

 

We don’t mature with years

but with damages

it is unfortunate yet accurate

to say

we are all damaged goods

but that’s okay

it is all just part of the process

 

For each day

we try so hard to fix what’s not quite right

in our lives

in ourselves

In whichever way we may believe in

In search

of a window of opportunities

That leads us back to happiness

To forget about the scars

marked on our flesh as time goes by

 

after all the wars we have each day

with ourselves and with dear life

marching our way through existence

 

To whomever is reading this

It’s a miracle how you,

are still alive

For how far you’ve come

For the silent battles you have each day

 

Wounded and jaded

But yet still here

Alive and breathing

Resting, maybe

But I know when the next battle comes

You, will rise up

 

glaring at this world

like the very first time

but it is wisdom

that you will gain this time

 

so every day

is a silent hallelujah

you,

are the only person

who knows how hard it is

to be you

the good and bad

 

the days you smile so proudly with victories

the mornings you cry in the shower

the incalculable sadness that comes after sunset

 

when everyone has gone home

and you are left alone

it is in pain and loneliness

that you find your strength

realizing what you are made of

only when you have lost everything

can you start building

 

all the unanswerable questions in life

to which I don’t know the solutions

yet I know what a miracle it is

that you are still here

breathing and alive

utterly lost and heartbroken

but you have walked a lonely path

through all the doors that kept shutting down

all the way to today

 

you fight for yourself

for your own existence

no matter how quiet the battle is

or how slowly time flows by

every day is a silent hallelujah

for you are still here

breathing and alive

 

 

 

Somedays Sometimes Someone

To someone I’m a lover

To someone I’m a sinner

To someone I’m a memory

 

Somedays I feel like a burden or a failure

Somedays I feel blessed or glamorous

 

Sometimes I’m a traveler

Sometimes I’m a prisoner

Sometimes I have a home

Sometimes I don’t

Sometimes I’m too yellow

And other days I’m too white

 

There are days when I can’t fall asleep

There are days

my bed becomes a locked room with no windows

There are nights I dream of his smiles

There are nights I die in my dreams

 

Sometimes I can feel the gravity

Sometimes someone is my gravity

Sometimes I’m just floating in the air

Lost and scared

 

Sometimes I am a dreamer

Sometimes I lose the race

Somedays I have answers

Other days answers are the questions

Somedays I’m invisible

Somedays I’m a person

 

To someone I am hope

To someone I am desperation

To someone I am their reflections

To someone I am just a shadow

To someone I am their music

To someone I don’t exist

To someone I’m one of them

To someone I’m an alien

 

In some places I have an accent

In some places I don’t

In some places I’m brave

In some places I’m scared and tired

In some places I feel light

In some places I am heavy

In some places

I’m too small and the room’s too big

In some places

I’m too big for the room

 

In somedays

At sometimes

To someone

I am just air

with a suitcase heart

in disguise in a human body

filled with memories and joy

or maybe a forgotten yesterday

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Week After I Died

A week after I died

I’m hollow inside

Deep in the chasm

Even in the brightest of times

It is only darkness

That’s been cast upon me

 

I do not know the face of passion not now or before

The touch of love

Is a fading fingerprint once lingered on my body

It was once memorable

And now forgotten

For I am hollow inside

And love is in exile

 

I am

Somehow existing but not existing

Somehow reaching my fingers out to touch

To feel again

but nothing ever comes back to me

 

A week after I died

I thought I would meet my grandmother

And I can tell her

How proud she should be of her son

But there is nothing and no one in this chasm

 

Day after day

I reach out my fingers

And nothing is tangible

I see only scars on my wrists

They have stopped bleeding

But I feel like blood

is still leaking out from my fingertips

And perhaps I am disappearing in this chasm

Bits by bits

like I was before in life

 

I thought ending my misery

is a permanent solution to all the problems

I thought I would see light in the end of this tunnel by doing so

I thought angels would come

And embrace me with their soft wings

They will tell me

Everything is okay now

You are saved

 

A week after I died

I am hollow inside

Deep in the chasm like I was before in life

Life is a far away concept now

I am hollow inside and half empty

Exactly what I was before in life

 

I am doomed to be lonely in this chasm

In which I am constantly falling

But never landing

 

Trust me

I have tried to land

What beauty it should be

if I could eradicate the pain once again

the sorrow

the forever emptiness

That defies every law in the universe

To keep me falling

But keeping me from landing

The struggle doesn’t end

I have come to believe

Landing is a fantasy

Like how death was to me

 

I can hear my mother’s voices

My brother’s tears at night in bed

My father’s quiet whispers to god

And you, your silent tears that drop down

when you least notice them

 

I thought yes, you would mourn for me

But after some time

The universe could do without me

And you would stop mourning

Accepting the facts

And you will move on

Like how you always have

Look behind the pavements

They are built with blood and tears

And I am just one of them now

 

I never meant to hurt

You

I thought

I was doing you a favor

I thought the universe would be better off

without me

Without another phony existence

I was doing you a favor

In the long term

So I can stop hurting you

And you can stop breaking my heart

without knowing it

 

I thought

I am but a variable in the function of universe

Replaceable

Waiting to be proved to exist

To be calculated

I waited for too long to be deciphered

Emotions turned into ashes

Until I believe so deeply

That I wasn’t necessary

Perhaps I was a mistake

A miscalculation

And I was correcting the faults by doing so

 

A week after I died

I am falling in this chasm

With echoes of the voices from those I used to love

I still love them, I think

If I can remember what love is

 

Colorful Medicines

My body is made of 80 percent medicine

the purple and pink I take in the morning

are supposed to fix my blue genes

 

blue genes deep rooted and passed on

from my mother and grandmother

blue genes pushed me into a black hole

blue genes slow down time

a minute feels like a lifelong sentence

blue genes distant me

from everything else I see

 

sunshine, coffee, love

they are just a metaphor now

a reflection of how drifted away i am

 

My body is made of 80 percent medicine

the purple and pink I take in the morning

are supposed to fix my blue genes

and they kind of do

purple and pink pull me out of the black hole

allows me to feel the sunshine

smell the coffee

experience love

 

but purple and pink

cannot take away my thoughts

cannot tell me not to kill myself

cannot tell me I am trying hard enough

cannot tell me I am not my illness

 

purple and pink

take away the blue

but not the blue mindset

and the blue mindset

is what gives me nightmares

screaming in the dark

bleeding in dreams

 

the blue mindset is constantly fighting

with other white or golden mindset

and yet always winning

leaving me with exhaustion

because my body is always at war

and hence

panic attacks after panic attacks

 

so here comes the orange little tablet i take

morning and night

twice a day

and it always comes with yellow

yellow eases the vertigo

and orange numbs my nervous system

so I don’t feel like I am dying that often

 

purple and pink in the morning

return me my emotions

help me to not be numb and distant again

 

and yet the orange and yellow

morning and night

twice a day

shut down my body

no anxiety

no emotions again

 

so the white I take at night

right before bedtime

stops me from thinking

about how scared I am

or how sad I am

or how completely numb my entire body is right now

right now

the white I took

send me to my dreams

to my subconscious where all the horror lives

but at least

I can have a steady eight hours of sleep

 

My body is made of 80 percent medicine

it is a science lab

chemistries mixing with chemistries

I am always exploding and evaporating

exploding and evaporating

 

my body is a science lab

the colors I consume

are not a promise of well-being

they do not come with warranties

 

colors are always colliding with colours

they don’t transform into Van Gogh’s sunflowers

or the starry night

in which pain turns into beauty

and colors come to life

 

the colors I consume

purple and pink

orange, yellow and white

they are a science experiment with no results

 

my body is not mine

my body is made of 80 percent medicine

colourful medicines

that should have cured my blue genes by now

my body is not mine

it still belong’s to the blue genes

 

colourful medicines

purple and pink

orange, yellow and white

science experiments with no results

always contradicting the other

 

my body is not mine

doctor says I’m going to be fine

but he doesn’t know how long it will take

or exactly how my body will react to them

 

my body is a science lab

experimenting with colourful medicines

doctor says I’m going to be fine

but he’s not the one taking them

 

 

 

Do You Ever

Do you ever just wake up

And wonder where you are

How you have gone here

And what you have become

 

When you look around

And notice how everyone

Has the same look as you

That lost look

 

People and things

Are not at

where they are supposed to be

Their souls are stuck in a matrix program

Which probably explains the lost look

 

They know

Their real home is at somewhere else

 

The sunset makes the whole busy city go golden and then blue

And then comes darkness

And the long nights that eradicate our doubts

for the authenticity of our existence

 

Then follows

the smell of freshly cut grasses

First cup of coffee in the morning

The blood-like red roses

That make us say

What a wonderful world

 

So we move our eyes away

From the mirror

The spoon we use to eat cereal with

Where we can see our own reflections

We move our eyes away from

The things which remind us

Of the questions we all have in mind

The authenticity of our existence

 

Or how much we try

To not dwell

on the lost look we all have

From time to time

Since before everything started

 

We talk and smile

with sadness and anxiety

in our subconscious minds

We see the skin the hair the fine array of people we interact

Trying to find meaning at the wrong places, on the wrong people

 

if you look closely enough

You will notice

the lost look we all have from time to time

For far too long

 

Voices In My Head

Baby

You are so much more than your illness

So much more than what the voices tell you

 

You are dumb

Useless

A burden

A mistake

A joke

A hypocrite

You will never be fixed

No one can fix you

You are hopeless

Alone

Forever sad

Dead already

A zombie

 

No

No, you’re not

You’re not all that

 

You’re not

A waste of time

You’re not a lost thing

You’re not the dust that fell down

When everyone else is rising

 

You’re not bones buried in dirt

When everyone is walking on you

Their marches so heavy

You feel like you’re suffocating

Dissolving

Disappearing

 

You’re numb yes maybe

But you’re still solid in the air

Unnoticeable even by yourself

People may not see you

You may not see you

But still

You are solid in the air

I know that

 

Because you are a house that never falls down

You are the house that even invisible

I can still feel your presence

How you blocked the thunder

How you let the sunshine in

I may not see you

But I can feel your presence

 

Baby

You are still fighting

Even when you don’t know it

I may not know how you got here

How you’ve made it this far

How you are still alive

After so many years of voices in your head

Telling you otherwise

 

But see how you are still standing

Bleeding yes maybe

Jaded and confused

But You

are the waves that never stop kissing the shore

 

The shore being the darkness

And your kisses the stars

You shine up high

Twinkling

You never stop

 

You

Never stop

You’re surrounded by black

But baby please take a look

You are not the black

 

You never stop kissing the shore

The shore being the darkness

And your kisses forgiveness

The shore is part of the waves

The shore is part of the darkness

The shore is part of the stars

 

The sky

Stars and darkness combined

Are part of you

You are the universe

You

Are the universe

And darkness

is just a temporary aspect from a tiny little angle

It comes after sunset

It follows the sun

It follows the sun

The sun is part of you

You have the sun

You are the sun

 

The voices in your head

Is not the only voice you can hear

The only instructions you can follow

You don’t have to go

You don’t have to fade away

No one can make you leave

Not even the voices in your head

 

Baby

This is a reminder

If you ever get lost

In the voices that shout in your head

The voices in your head

Only you can hear

 

Baby

You are not those voices

You are not your illness

Baby please don’t go

 

You are not your sadness

you are a map

You are a compass

Not the voices

The voices in your head

are not your only navigation

 

You are a map

You are a compass

Baby

Please don’t go with the voices

Please baby please

 

An apology Letter to My Body (2)

Dear body,

I apologize

for drowning you with alcohol

When I was all broken inside

 

I knew you couldn’t breathe anymore

But I didn’t care if there would be a tomorrow

I did not know any other way

To make the pain inside me disappear

So I kept drinking

 

I am sorry

for overdosing and for hurting you

For letting you bleed

But we were at war

If you can remember

Both of us

trying so hard

To erase each other

In order to prove one’s worth
I hope that today

I can make peace with you

 

I’m sorry

When you were that little

I let her inside of you

you did not even know what it meant

 

and as you grew older

he touched you

and tried to make you

one of his

I am sorry

for not having the strength to leave

I am sorry

That I didn’t protect you

 

I scrubbed every inch of you

For a thousand times

But I know you can still feel him on you

Still taste his perfume

At the tip of your tongue

Still have nightmares

about how your body trembled

when he held you

And Fiddled with your hair

Whispering the words into your ears

Like a spell that made you his personal Barbie

 

It was not your fault

That he thought your body

was his to own

You were young and lost

And he was there

 

It was not your fault

That you listened

to the old stories

A woman must be saved by a man

And you thought he was Prince Charming

 

But this is a story

of how a woman saved herself

 

Body,

I will hold on to you

And we will fly together

In this world that has already lost gravity

 

Men and alcohol were never the

Remedy

The solution

Or An answer

You were your own hero

And we know that now

We have proved it

 

Sincerely,

Vanessa