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

Advertisements

Lost Meaning

When we do something over and over again

It loses its meaning

 

We say I love you to each other

Over and over again

And it loses its meaning

 

We kiss over and over again

And it loses its meaning

 

We talk about our days

Over and over again

And it loses its meaning

 

I breathe and breathe again

Until it loses its meaning

 

I am drowning in this ocean of lost meaning

Soaking in despondency

But you are on a safe boat

Not rocky nor defeated

 

I am drowning in this ocean of lost meaning

You reached out your hand

Attempting to pull me back

I see your eyes, shining

Like how you’ve always looked at me

Full of hope and affection

I’m afraid I can’t live up to your expectation

 

You reached out your hand

With that smile on your face

The smile a bit brisky

A bit naughty

 

You’ve gazed at me with those eyes and smiles

Since the beginning of our stories

The voices in my head is in repetition

About how one day

I’ll look at you like that

But by then you will look at me

like how I’m looking at you now

 

You ask what can be done

To get me back on the boat

And I say no to every suggestion

I guess because of self-loathing

 

I think I need to drown

After all, I have fought and lost

Perhaps in the water is where I belong

This ocean of lost meaning

 

 

 

Stardust

The stars are falling

They were shiny

Up high in the sky

 

Now they are landing

more like crashing

Through galaxies

Losing bits and bits of their body

 

Floating away in outer space

They reached to planet earth

lonely on the crowded streets

in between buildings

scattered and no longer together

far away from each other

 

dust and mud

possibilities to be anything

adjusting is a must

at least that’s what they believe in

 

with the wind and water

they start to grow taller

alone but stronger

shaped as humans

yet among the creatures

they are all still strangers

awkward and bewildered

by every existence

 

adjusting is a must

but they are still slightly lost

their glow has disappeared

nothing to guide them in the dark

no one to admire them at nights

 

yet one day out on the streets

At places most mysterious

Or perhaps occasions known most commonly

Two stardusts meet

They are no longer wrecked pieces

This time they are full of stories

From falling to landing

From missing to establishing

From glowing to dimming

From subsiding to realizing

 

Two stardusts meet

No longer wrecked pieces

Now full of stories

Tall and strong already

Ready to admire the other

Ready to glow together

 

 

The Mask

we all wear it

the mask

a smile or a dance

laughter or music

 

scars hidden

we don’t talk about it

 

for a conversation

it’s not always the best topic

 

loved ones in the past

whom we sealed in a bottle

because they hurt us

and we haven’t let go

or we let them fall

and they left for another land

or they hurt themselves

and we could have done something about it

 

we don’t talk about it

the things that pained us

the sadness we thought we buried

that comes out when we don’t notice

the mistakes we have made

the loneliness we feel in bed

 

the nights we toss and turn

because the mask has fallen

the wounds are not transparent

not disguising its existence

 

we don’t talk about it

but we all wear it

the mask

it seems like a taboo

to talk about you

or me

or him

or her

or being lost again

 

we have been taught

what’s positive or negative

what’s strong and what’s weak

to snap out of it

so we wear a mask

so the things we are afraid of

won’t be brought up

so we won’t be blamed again

 

we wear a colorful mask

when we are hollow all day

suffering in our own way

but we don’t talk about it

afraid to be judged

afraid to cause harm

afraid to be exposed

afraid

just afraid

the mask covers so we don’t have to face

 

we all wear the mask

pretending to be okay

at a dinner party

friends’ gathering

important jobs

or maybe in a pub

characters we play

on this stage we call life

 

we should start talking about it

we should stop the judging and start understanding

start loving

start forgiving, you and me

we should leave people better than we found them

not let them fade

behind the mask

 

we should start talking about it

we should be okay with not being okay

with every hey are you okay

it should be a question full of love and respect

not a social gesture that’s a bit awkward

 

we should make others comfortable

feel safe

feel less alone

because in the end we are all the same

we are together in this place called life

and we should stop wearing the mask

by being the one that starts loving

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Twelve

One

 

How much more does this life ask of me

As if every single breath isn’t already an agony

How much more do I have to do

To live right

When rules are written plain in sight

 

Two

 

My body is drowning

My lungs are filled with swallowed words

This body is burning

I feel anguish

When all I want to do is love

 

Three

 

I smile at you

I make jokes with you

 

I wear makeup

So the dark circles around my eyes

won’t be noticed

So the evidence of pain on my face

Won’t be brought up

So the sleepless nights

Or nightmares

Or panic attacks

Can all be concealed by a mask

 

I laugh

So you think I’m normal

Or perfect

Or perhaps proper

 

Four

 

I dress well

Like my parents taught me

Presentable

I hide behind my attire

So you can’t see me

 

Five

 

I hide in my bed

Counting from one to ten

And from ten to one

Waiting for today to go by

I just want today to go by

 

I hide

I am used to hiding and waiting

After all, that’s what I do best

 

Six

 

I say the right things at the right time

I eat the right things at the right time

I do the right things at the right time

Trying to control my life

As if doing so would make things right

 

Or perhaps just trying not to fail or bail again

Since society has a problem with failures and losers

 

Or perhaps it was my dad’s voice in my head

Warning me not to disappoint him again

 

Seven

 

When you do something over and over again

It loses its meaning

I wake up and go to bed and wake up and go to bed

 

I feel like a zombie

No meaning in repeating

I try and I fail and I try again and fail again

What’s the point in trying

If I am doomed to lose the race

 

Eight

 

You say I am lucky

And I know I have been

But right now I’m dying in slow motion

and there’s no room for appreciation

when I am murdering myself instinctively

 

Nine

 

you ask about my past

you ask what’s on my mind

penny for a thought

I’m scared of telling you the truth

Because then you would dread me too

 

Ten

 

I say I’m tired

I tell you I am drained

But you don’t listen

You nod like you understand

But can you even stand straight

If you were in my shoes

 

Eleven

 

How much more do I have to do

To survive

What meaning does there lie

If death is not the solution

 

Twelve

 

How many times do I have to repeat

Just how much I am drowning

How many secrets do I have to keep

Before I start to feel better

If I will ever feel better

And what’s the meaning in getting better

If death is still waiting for me

 

1246

1246 days

of sobriety

 

3 years

4 months

4 weeks

alcohol-free

 

The drunk version of me

Erased by memory

The crazy days

The erotic encounters

All seem so blurred

Lost in history

 

Buried deep in the dirt

Along with my lonely tears

The hearts I’ve broken

Friends who fled away

The relationships that faded

The sins I committed

People I lost faith in

All buried deep in the dirt

 

Bottles after bottles of alcohol

Demeanor of self-deception

Trusting that alcohol was alleviation

And yet left alone

with empty bottles

Empty as I was

Piled up like my troubles

Taking up all the spaces

Mocking my last sanity

 

Whiskey tasted like self-love

The next morning it reeked agony from my inside

the smell lingered

for 3 years

4 months

4 weeks

the mistakes I’ve made

all buried deep in the dirt

yet always there as a reminder

 

1246 days

alcohol-free

sobriety enables me to see

all the misery

clear and fair

what I suffer

How I suffer

the pain is greater when I am sober

I live through the sadness I try so hard to ignore

 

the past never truly disappeared

always there as a mockery

reminding me of all the failures

the worst version of me I have ever been

 

choosing recovery

but trapped in memory lane

the illusion of how whiskey can cure

seems so tempting

my mental disease

all relied on it

 

1246 days

alcohol-free

every today

is followed by a struggling yesterday

every hopeful tomorrow

is constructed by a skeptical today

 

3 years

4 months

4 weeks

of recovery

 

recovery glows flowers

adorning the grave I dug for myself

white and yellow flowers

on the dirt I buried my history

white as I my heart is now pure

yellow as the sun spreads hope

 

Depression Is

You talk about it

Like it’s something casual

There’s nothing casual about it

 

Depression is not casual

It is not just being troubled

It is not a cold

Which you can recover from in days

 

Depression is an assassin

Depression is the shadow that follows behind

Depression is the dark hole that consumes

Depression is me

 

Depression is the twisted state of mind

It is knowing that there’s something not right

But don’t know what it is

Don’t know how to fix it

Utterly clueless

 

It is being completely blind

Searching in darkness

Everything I touch makes me bleed

 

It is drowning in my own tears

Until I lose the ability to cry

To feel sadness

Or anything at all

Until numbness

is the only thing remains

 

Depression is the defense mechanism

A bubble that claims to keep me safe

As long as I stay in it

And believe in the projections it shows

 

Depression is something I keep in my pocket

Always with me

Wherever I am

Whomever I’m with

It tells me how to act

And not to take it out

So others won’t acknowledge

 

It is a tenant that checks in

Out of the blue

And my body is the landlord

It brings its friends over

Anxiety

Panic attacks

They party all night

Playing horror movies

I toss and turn

Can’t fall asleep for nights

 

Depression stays in my body

It is trying to take over

It gives me a mask

Ask me to wear it

So no one can see

While every cell in me

Is turning into depression

 

It is the bad neighbor

Drilling the walls

Filling my room with lousy noises

And yet filing complaints against me

 

Depression is not casual

Depression is the paralyzing negativity

It is transparent yet so powerful

It keeps me in bed

Everyone away

 

Depression makes sure that I am alone

So it can fulfil its duty

The task of an assassin

 

Depression is choosing recovery

over and over again

failing and succeeding and failing again

it is a loophole in time

repeating everything every time

 

it is hiding the beauty in life

says the blue sky is grey

or the loving friends don’t care

or universe has abandoned me

or I belong to the wrong galaxy

 

Depression

Is the devil with a thousand tricks

It is the opposite of life

It is not having a voice

Or a choice

 

Depression is many things

It is definitely not

Not casual

Like how you talk about it