What are we, but mere silhouettes of our past?
Beings, altered by the course of time,
Until we are but a new being.
For cells die and cells divide,
cells new again and again,
Can we truly say that we are the same person of yore?
New likes, new dislikes,
Taste and senses numbed by age,
What we once knew, foreign,
and what we once thought was, isn't.
How then can we love?
The person I loved yesterday, today isn't.
The person I am yesterday, today isn't.
Who are we? What are we?
Are we not mere doppelgangers of ourselves,
Hoping to be but never really.
Hoping to stay but moving constantly.
I yearn for the days of old,
the times familiar,
but merely hold on to a stopped watch.
22.6.15
He still mumbles
As the evening sun sets, I watch the shadow of the old tree
stretch out. Reminds me of how my thoughts of you never end. Turns out, I never
got used to you not being by my side anymore. As I walk back to the city, most
of the shops are closed, and all that’s left are the neon lights of pubs
flashing in the distance. In the tiny street where I stand, it rains all night.
19.6.15
He mumbles
It’s been raining every day now since you left. Maybe it’s
the rainy season, maybe it isn’t. I want to let go, but I can’t. The rain keeps falling. I try to pretend the past isn’t important, but I can't. It was only after we said goodbye that I realized we
can’t see each other again, and I can’t just lose your smile like this. I try
to withhold the pain and the tears, and I struggle. You said you’d be with me
till we’re old and that we’d go there to find eternity. But for now, even a
hug, no, just spending a second with you will do.
Your smile, your virtues,
they constantly dance around in my mind. My hand still holds memories of the
warmth I felt while holding your hand. My heart is in pieces now, and I can’t
make it beat like it used to. I’m imprisoned by the past and have no strength
to run away.
It was only after we said goodbye . . . that I realized . .
.we can’t see each other again.
18.6.15
Oh, what I would give to turn back time,
To right the wrongs, to clear the crime,
Now all that's left is a mountain to climb,
And I,
I am too weak to overcome.
My legs burn, and my fingers bleed,
My lungs are giving out, even at this speed,
It would be much easier for me to cede,
I cannot go on,
The pain is too much to bear.
I cannot run forward, yet I cannot run back,
Sixteen days ago was my last snack,
I question if my life is on the wrong track,
Without you,
I no longer know black from white, or day from night.
To right the wrongs, to clear the crime,
Now all that's left is a mountain to climb,
And I,
I am too weak to overcome.
My legs burn, and my fingers bleed,
My lungs are giving out, even at this speed,
It would be much easier for me to cede,
I cannot go on,
The pain is too much to bear.
I cannot run forward, yet I cannot run back,
Sixteen days ago was my last snack,
I question if my life is on the wrong track,
Without you,
I no longer know black from white, or day from night.
11.5.15
I try to hide in the crowd, hoping no one would notice. I look at the window pane, and all I see is the past beyond the fog. The past hurts, but I keep it all inside. The rain continues to pour as the crowd disperses, and I’m left all alone in the room filled with nothing but empty memories that linger.
This loneliness that I feel without your hand in mine, is like a game of chess I play with myself. Life strangles time, and I never have a moment to sit down and write to you. When I look up, you are already gone. This moment hurts, and I'm trying my best to go back to the way things used to be before.
I try to write down the feelings that I never had a chance to express. I know that there are things you dreamt of when you were young, and you saw them crushed in the time you were with me. That was my mistake. It wasn’t until afterwards that I finally understood, when I flipped through the letters that you wrote. I finally saw the fatigue and many tears you cried because of me.
And it hurts me that I hurt you so much. I am not worthy of your presence.
This loneliness that I feel without your hand in mine, is like a game of chess I play with myself. Life strangles time, and I never have a moment to sit down and write to you. When I look up, you are already gone. This moment hurts, and I'm trying my best to go back to the way things used to be before.
I try to write down the feelings that I never had a chance to express. I know that there are things you dreamt of when you were young, and you saw them crushed in the time you were with me. That was my mistake. It wasn’t until afterwards that I finally understood, when I flipped through the letters that you wrote. I finally saw the fatigue and many tears you cried because of me.
And it hurts me that I hurt you so much. I am not worthy of your presence.
4.2.15
miss-guidance
You lock the bear up in an unnatural habitat. Every day, you antagonize the bear. You mock the bear, you poke the bear, you beat and torture the bear. Will the bear not fight back? Must it only sit and suffer?
Why then do you blame the bear for retaliating? Why then do you punish the bear for retaliating and put the bear down? Did you not start the whole thing?
Did you not take the bear out from its home? Did you not provoke the bear?
I hope the time comes when you realize, it is you, not the bear that is at fault.
You, my friend, are guilty.