There Are No Seats For Me On The MRT       

There are no seats for me on the MRT

Dark blue for the priority seats

But no seats for the blue body that carries me

 

The blue mind

The blue mind that made me consider suicide

 

Yesterday

The blue mind made me consider suicide

Today

I still managed to be alive

Barely living

Struggled but finally got out of the door

Just to go to school

 

I am barely alive

I have died a million times

resurrected just as many

 

Yet

There are no seats for me on the MRT

When I missed my meals three days in a row

When I stayed in bed and it was a world’s distance

From my bed to the door

When I stared at the ceiling in darkness three days in a row

 

Today,

I am still perishing,

But I got out of the door

and tried my best to go to school

But the dark blue priority seats

are not for the dark blue mind

is my mental health not a priority?

Is my existence not a priority?

 

The lady next to me asked if I was sick,

Because I sat on the dark blue seat with my dark blue mind

I replied “yes”

She said,

“doesn’t seem like it.

You look young and healthy”

 

Invisible,

My dark blue is invisible

My scars are invisible

 

I fight with my Illness every day

And every moment

 

Yet when I am feeling my worst

When I barely have the strength to live

When I am broken into a thousand pieces

When I am just trying to go to school

There are no seats for me on the MRT

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Introverted

There’s too many people

In the living room 

Making small talks

Covering the basics

What they do 

Where they’re from 

The weather’s looking rather good

Jokes about whatever it is 

 

I wonder if we can skip

These small talks

Meaningless small talks 

Killing time

Disguising awkwardness 

 

I wonder why we do this 

Meaningless small talks 

Covering the basics

Repeating it

To everyone newly met 

Disguising awkwardness 

Killing time until the party ends

 

We go home with nothing but jokes and names

of someone we still barely know

Acquaintances 

Is what small talks make people into 

 

Not friends 

Just someone you met at the party 

 

I wonder why we do it

Gather together 

Using small talks to fill in the gaps 

Meaningless and dull

Just because we have to

 

It makes me uncomfortable 

Is this what we’re doing with our time 

It stresses me out

We could have been doing something else

Anything but this 

 

Is it just me 

Or does small talks really cheer people up

Bring them together 

Like their laughters are genuine 

Because I know mine’s not

 

Sitting there wondering 

Is this why we’re all here for

Talking about food 

 

Nodding but not listening

There’s too many people here

People I’ve never met

And maybe never will again 

 

I’ll forget about their names

Their Interests 

Or what they look like 

After a few days

So why are we doing this 

 

Hanging out

Talking about everything but nothing 

Trying to be part of something 

 

More people are coming in

And it makes me feel queasy

The room is not big enough 

And the noises are too loud

People trying not to miss out

 

I guess anyone could do without this party

After all it’s just for fitting in

With a bunch of new strangers we will soon call friends

 

But really, we still don’t know much about them

Or will forget about them soon enough 

So why are we doing this

Something that will lose its meaning tomorrow 

 

Talking about everything but nothing 

Laughing to jokes awkwardly 

But don’t really understand why it’s funny 

Is this what we really are

Consists of small talks

Everything but nothing