A W.A.R.M. Poem

Warm,

When you feel cold inside

Lonely and blinded

Lost in this tunnel without any light

We will share our warmth with you

Let you know we are all the same

On this stage we call life

 

Suffering too

But we will hold your hands

And we will march together

In this tunnel without any light

 

I promise you

One day you will see

The meaning behind our destiny

One day,

it will all makes sense to you

one day,

you will feel the warmth surrounding you

like it always has been

 

Anonymous

Our pain is anonymous

Our struggle is anonymous

Our names are anonymous

Our existence is anonymous

 

But that is only for today

One day,

Our pain will transform in to the starry night

of Van gogh’s beauty

our colors

will be so vivid that it ignites fire in the heart of others

 

one day,

our struggle will be no more

our past will be known

it will no longer be anonymous

it’s name will be bravery

 

one day,

our names will be told

for we are the ones that stand straight

when our worlds are crumbling

 

for we are the ones that love

as many people as we can

along the way

 

for we

are the ones

that never stop reaching out

 

one day,

our existence will shine as the light

at the end of other people’s tunnels

our existence will leave traces of footsteps

for the lost ones to follow

and one day,

they will find their paths too

 

Reconnecting,

Side by side, we are not alone

No matter what it was like before

It will be like that no more

 

Picking up the pieces of yesterday

Together we complete

the most complicated puzzles in the world

broken pieces glued back together

joint effort

we find our lost selves

rediscovering dignity that we thought disappeared

reinforcing the strength that was hidden deep inside

 

together, we see our destiny

together, we conquer

together, we support each other

together, we build our own stories

together, we are no longer alone

 

mentally,

we see your true mentality

not the mask you wear

painted by society

 

with us, you can take your mask off safely

with us, we are connected mentally

with us, we will support you unconditionally

with us, you can be the you

that you have always meant to be

 

women anonymous reconnecting mentally,

WARM,

We are free from society’s norms

We do not need to conform anymore

We are creating our own identity

We are reclaiming control

We are the differences

we want to see

in the world

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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

Note to Self: Things I’ve Learned from Depression

Embrace every moment

You are not depression

You are more than your illness

 

resentment

is a cage you need to escape

resentment against others

is always resentment against oneself

 

Fear is not to be afraid of

Look fear right into the eyes

they are not the enemy

do everything with grace and integrity

love your own company

 

Your emotions are valid

Don’t deny them

Observe them

Understand and accept

 

Don’t be afraid to fail

Mistakes and failures constitute success

Learn with acceptance

never devalue yourself

 

when someone achieves what you are aiming for

be happy for them

They probably work just as hard as you do

if not more so

 

try to go outside at least once a day

don’t dwell in an episode

it’s okay not to be okay

and love as many people as you can

along the way

 

Give

Give everything you have

and ask for nothing in return

It’ll make you a happier person

 

Be who you needed

when you were younger

you have fought

to be the person you are today

don’t underestimate

the strength you possess within

and don’t degrade others

just so you can feel better

 

stand tall and firm

for what you believe in

but reserve the right to be wrong

at all times

constantly and regularly

examine your opinions

Make sure they don’t evolve into prejudices

 

Always be curious

Ask questions

Fight for your rights

don’t compromise yourself

you are all you’ve got

 

Happiness and realization

come in the most unexpected forms sometimes

Never reject anything at first sight

 

don’t be afraid to change

We are all different people throughout our lives

and that’s good

We have to move on

Allow others to change too

 

you can’t find peace by avoiding life

Focus on one day at a time

Let other people’s biases stay as their biases

It is what you do at the moment that defines you

And that changes all the time too

 

there’s always room and time

for acts of kindness

there will always be uncertainties

We are all lost in some degree

and that’s okay

we are all the same

Everyone’s struggling with something

We all get desperate sometimes

So be kind

 

you don’t need to have sex to be sexy

your sexuality is yours

Own it

you don’t need to be hungry to feel pretty

please exercise and eat

Take care of your body

you’re gonna need it

 

If you see peace

you can find energy

If there’s not much you can do

grow a plant, or anything

then at least

you’re doing something good for earth

 

Don’t go wherever the crowds go

You matter the most

do what feels right to you

never judge

You always know less than what you think you do

 

You are enough

you are many things

yet there’s one thing you never do

you never give up

 

It’s all luck

Don’t take credit for your success

nor blame others for your failure

always put yourself out there

Try new things

Remember that you can always go home

 

The kingdom of heaven is within

Remember your religion

You are not other people’s voices in your head

you saved yourself

You,

you did it

 

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

Somebody’s Someone

She is a metaphor to her husband

A cautionary tale to her children

Invisible to herself

She is a wandering ghost

to the house she is locked in

 

She has never been herself

She is somebody’s someone

Or something

 

Her place is in the kitchen

In the jewelry stores

In the gossip of other wives

She goes by somebody’s someone

Never herself

 

Her job is to serve

And to look pretty when needed

Her job is to be witty

at dinner parties

But voiceless

after the guests have left

 

She is her husband’s Barbie

with unnecessary functions

She lives in a haunted Barbie house

The company she can only find

are the ghosts before her

 

There is an old Chinese saying

That women beautify themselves

for the men they please

And she

Dedicates her life to do just that

 

She supports him silently by his side

For most of history

Anonymous was a woman

her name was therefore erased

Remembered only as

somebody’s someone

 

She is a glorious china vase

But inside it

nothing but air

 

She is the stunning wife

The loving mother

She has always been somebody’s someone

Never herself

I often wonder

if there is still a person in her

 

in daytime

She is nurturing and fun

Swallows down her pride

She does her part

She keeps her silence

Put on a disguise

Play the character on the stage

 

The stage

is the concrete home that she is chained to

The character

is what she thought a woman should only be

 

She puts her college degree behind

Her achievements before marriage

Becomes a hollow echo only she can hear

Reminding her of a person she vaguely recognizes

 

Her defiance came out at nights

The has been that hides inside

She tells her children what a woman she was

before their father

All the things she could have become

 

Instead of telling her kids bedtime stories

She cries and screams

Like a child searching for answers

The has been inside her

was shortly awaken

But broken this time

 

And yet to her children

She is the woman from the madhouse

She is nothing but a mockery

With her funny English accent

She is an embarrassment

 

She immigrated to a new land

with her husband

So the accent mocks her

Reminds her

of her no longer tangible free will

 

Yet he

Is a self-made man

An American Dream

Even with the accent present

He will never be put in the same place where she is

 

She is a cautionary tale

An unstable ticking bomb

Her son sees her

and defines women accordingly

Women are crazy, he says

 

Her daughter sees her

and swears not to be the same

To never be

an anonymous

 

Her husband is okay with her unstable mentality

He can tolerate the way

she treats the kids when no one is looking

As long as she looks pretty by his side

And doesn’t reach her hands out to the window

 

Yet when she hears the birds singing outside

And tries to chase back to its origin

When she stops cooking

And doesn’t do the laundry

As often as she did

He filed for a divorce

 

In his mind

Not cooking or doing the laundry for him

Means she has stopped caring for him

 

He sees the madhouse that

he and she cohabits in

But he thinks the madness comes from her

He never sought for a cause

Or a remedy for it

Never saved his kids from it

 

He is the observer and the perpetrator

And the children learned from their father

to see her

As the mad women

 

She is a cautionary tale

A metaphor

An unstable ticking bomb

She is somebody’s someone

Or something

 

Years after their divorce

She still can’t resist reaching her hands towards

her husband

she has lived inside the haunted house

She has been somebody’s someone

for too long to learn to separate herself

from someone else

To be the somebody in her own life

 

Years after their divorce

We still blame her for it

We blame the woman for her madness

For her failure in marriage

Just because she was somebody’s someone

Like how she was taught

 

We blame her for shrinking

Until the haunted house was too big

And she lost herself in it

 

We condemn her

for raising her kids in a madhouse

Locked them in the same cage with her

We ignore the oppression she inherited from her mother

And her mother’s mother

 

We fail to acknowledge that the madhouse

wasn’t the house we dwelled in

But the patriarchy she depended on

And she wasn’t crazy

She was just one of many

 

She is another ghost

She is chained to the haunted Barbie madhouse

Belongs to someone else

Somebody’s someone

 

Even when she is released from it

She still gravitates back inside

Every single time

To be somebody’s someone

Never herself