Raise Your Voice

When life was not about me, but about you, she locked her mouth shut.  To bury deep the voices that awaited to explode, like a foul volcano she stank.  To stop talking, to open ears for your angry voices, and to accept repulsive actions as if my own, she was ordained the honour to be silent.    

I am a Monster, the one who cursed you with my actions.  Read the story.  You'll soon find out who she was.  Read again, would you?  You knew the truth, yet you kept the blame.  Read the story.  

Little Stars

Twinkle, twinkle little stars.

It was two in the morning.  She was already awaken.  Pulled up by the biological clock, she dragged her body to the bathroom and brushed her teeth.  She was neither drowsy nor energetic.  It was only two minutes past two.  She sat herself by the door, feeling the quiet  breeze caressing her.  

The sky was filled with stars.  They were beautiful.  She counted them.  

Twenty-two years after, she woke up again at two, no longer looking at the sky.  She could no longer remember how the stars were mapped for her.  The stars remained bright, shining through the nights.  If only she could stop and gaze, and admire their beauty once again, she would have less to worry.

For how great the Creator was, and still is.

Just the Way You Are

What if, the way I am isn't enough?  Isn't there a place out there for the ugly?  Yes, the ugly.  

A song written for all the beautiful girls out there; the song did not sang to her.  Her grumpy, wrinkled face, her constant obnoxious nagging, her irritating anger, made her a monster.  Disheartening as it was, advice was approached ferociously.  Outcomes, vain. 

If you would open up and listen... they made her a clown, laughing and watching cynically from the corner of their eyes.  In joint hands they threw anchors at her, hoping she would sink.  Sink, to the bottom of the sea.  Love was thorn of curses.  Her heart ached to core.  

What was supposed to be sweet and memorable had now turn sour.  Relationship had become rivals and enemies, plotting defeats against each other.  This was not how it should be... It left her anesthetic.  Reflections countered the nights sleepless.  

What better ways?  Help me.  

Big, Big World

A world of serenity and tranquility.  As if invisible, walking the unknown places at its pace, and enjoying the beautiful creation it was made.  A rather lonely life but a life surrounded by millions of people from all walks of life.  Different faces, and different places.  Life of an adventure.  

But torn, she was.

A world full of sounds; of the highs and lows, where instruments were played pitch high.  Sounds both soothing and annoying.  Life full of partying, drinking and smoking.  A world full of deception, and of worldly things, where honesty could not be judged from surface alone.  

Two worlds and a personality at war.

Alaska

In a far, far, faraway land... A land where the bears roamed freely, where the huskies and hounds were men's best friends, where her feet explored the vast adventurous land... The weather would be colder, but she wouldn't be bothered.  

She grew more and more in love.  Her heart mesmerized, saying, if only, if only, if only.  Her unfailing love, as if, she could feel herself cuddling in the warmth embrace of nature in itself.  Love was expressed in its simplicity - undisguised and honest.  

On Teachers' Day

I wrote a poem for you,

To you, my dear, to you.

How I feel may not be as important,

But this', a heartfelt makes me impotent.  

I trembled walking towards our class,

My mistake peeking the other class,

Yes, my heart dropped, but I kept cool,

It's Teachers' Day, so let's be cool.

The food on the table made me cry,

How disappointing you didn't try,

Your stomach grumbled like a hungry fly,

You and your excuses were one fat lie.

Again, you belched a prayer that made me cry,

I prayed I could be more grateful, I should try, 

At least be thankful for the cake you baked, 

Before it made you all creamed up and caked.  

You ran, and jumped, and screamed,

Sprinkling sparkles in colour pink, 

I sat, and watched, and dreamed,

Of hyenas, angels in-sync.

Making cheer to distract the stress,

Yet discomfort only I was, 

My distress you strongly felt,

Yet bemusing me with doubt.  

Today is a happy day,

A day not to remember,

Left me sleepless in three days, 

Gloomy nights I would refer.  

Voices

She laughed at the thoughts of confused dilemma.  What was it that make you so... restless, and annoying?  She shuddered.  Are you agreeing?  Her heart tickled.  She couldn't be happier... like breaking out from the prison.  She smiled.

Three years.  And everything has changed, in just three years.  She heaved a sigh.  Couldn't remember the last time I... smiled.  The hard reality that this world had had so much toil on her.  But everyone did so well... they worked ten times harder.  She felt like a loser, couldn't keep pace, or perhaps, didn't even bother to keep pace... walking all alone neglected by the world.  

What's wrong with you?!  She couldn't find fit.  Could she be happier alone?

As long as no one noticed, she would like to save herself from the shame.  But isn't everyone living like that?  She wondered.  You're a year older, you live independently, you get your own grocers, and you do your own shopping.  She was still uncomfortable with the word, alone.  I sure enjoy it.

She walked over to the displayed models.  We could own a home like that.  She had it all pictured out, an ideal living house, parents free, people free.  At least, she could run her own errands in a neat house.  She sighed again.  Mum would be the least happiest person... Yes, she probably wouldn't agree.  But she kept looking, that's how she has to learn to let go.  It's funny how she was standing there all by herself when someone her age would have someone else... tagged along.  Ooh, look at that young ones over your shoulders; that do normal.

When you're 17, everyone says you're still too young, you have to enjoy.  The words go on until you're 27, and everyone expects you to get hitched.  Everything she did, even for that one brink moment she was looking at her phone, was linked to this somehow nonexistent mysterious guy.  By the age of 30, she would look like a desperado even while punching that old cellphone of hers.  How would a 27-year-old feel?

At 27, she felt old.  She didn't feel she was any prettier at all.  She wanted to be happy.  She really does. 

Yearning To Be

Her name popped out from the board.  The blurred sight was insignificantly understood.  Yet, enough.  How could she have missed the sight of it?  The watch read 11.30 a.m.  She was already forty minutes late.  Her heart raced.  "Could there be a kind soul waiting patiently on the other side?"  She fumbled through the papers.  "... Just for a mere..." she glanced at the ticking clock, "FORTY-ONE MINUTES?!"  Disbelief, her heart recited prayers.  Her feet ran her off to chasing time.

From afar, the silhouette of monkeys jumping around the four-square did not amuse her at all.  Adrenaline pumped through her veins.  AH!  The disturbances they would have caused.  Her brain was reasoning with all kinds of theories.  Dirty little secrets were full of loopholes.  "Oh, look!  Someone's checking the monkeys."  There were mixed feelings she was confused over.  

She explained all she could upon reaching the already calmed monkeys.  Whose ears could have a heart to empathize?  Her pleas fell on deaf ears.  Her excuses were unacceptable even for herself.  She walked away...

So that was how it should be for bad day like hers.  An ill appetite, a hopeless heart and the many unexplained events that would have been told after. 

Who could have felt the same way, ... when everyone else was perfect.   

Jaded

Her eyes resembled a panda.  They were sunken deep into her flesh.  The lids were weary, leaving a small gap in between.  The caffeine from the coffee left her awake.  She closed her eyes to compose her restless body, laying down on a bed of roses.

Roses.  They were full of thorns.

Her wandering souls were unrest.  She tossed and turned.   There were no comfort zones.  Rest, oh my weary souls.  Rest.

Her Instinct, A Fatal Aspiration

Fired up with passion, each word that pursed through her lips amazed her.  They listened cautiously, marking  the details.  Though vague, the details were valuable and served at its maximum.

Each generous ears opened up hope, leading ways for repentance and amendments.  She juggled her dying prospect as it lifted off the ground.  Their credibility challenged her once again.

The thoughts cheered her.  Their anxiety was presumably resolved - none of her concern.  She acclaimed their efforts, but such witness was short-lived.   

Her heart was confused - some made her laugh, yet bore loud evidence of their nonchalant efforts.  Words were shrugged off at their shoulders, as if who cares.  Each lines rocked her patience.  She was threatened to respond brutally.  Her imaginative hands were fast equipped with a rattan.  She could slash at any moment. 

How should i do?  Abuse with these autocratic hands of mine?  She surmounted her anger with questions and subdued to disappointment.  All wicked intentions did not brief the definition of her career.   Her labour  was built upon an aristocratic aspiration, of hope and of love.  Don't make a monster out from me.

I don't hunt; i nurture.

Mirror On The Wall

Her eyes feasted on the familiar reflection through the looking glass.  Her hands slowly caressing the figure that seemed to carefully copy her.  The puzzled look upon her eyes bewildered her.  She gently touched her lips as if suckling the life out from them.  Each move was transcribed carefully only in silence.   

Ah... each word read her lips.  She was disturbed.   

Mirror on the wall, 

Here we are again.  

Through my rise and fall, 

You've been my only friend.  

You told me that they can,

Understand the man that I am.  

So, why are we here, 

Talking to each other again?

Her body shivered as the words ran through her veins.  Why are we here, talking to each other again? 

So, why are we... beads of unsung melody dripped down from her eyes.     

Perhaps, Maybe

Perhaps, there was an immaculate world of such, where sins would not find its way, an enigma.

The way of the above marveled her.  The mighty hands that threaded the way of this world, to where she was sent with a purpose, an unknown purpose.  

With her feet above the world, hers jingled for adventures and all the more.  Like a naughty little elf, escaping from life of the pole to a life she was never meant to live - a life where cupids blessed, a life where angels sang, and a life where the church bells rang.  There were more than cupids, of angels, and of church bells that she could have known.  

For her, she was made only witness of the surpassing moments.  There were plenty of people like herself in this world where she had yet learn to accept.  Some still in search of the mystery.  Some like her, wherever it leads, she shall go. 

Wake Me Up

The long winding road, she sighed, and the headlights from cars afar, were peculiarly ushering her rides.  But unlike any city of lights, her feelings were expressed as if the roads led her to dooms-day.  Dooms-day!  She dreaded it all the more.

She watched the night sky, and the stars lining in their ways.

Magic carpet ride, take me away.  She fervently prayed.  

When you wished upon a star, your dreams come true.   

Kicked Around

Out in the open field, she watched the boys play.  A game she could not, and probably would not connect to.  Yet she stood there, and made no words.  Not even a word.  As if by a twist of fate the boys were visited by a world of unknown.  Her presence was a confusion.  

For her, there was a certain inexplicable sense of accountability, of duty and of love.  She hoped they know.  Duty and love in its indivisible definition was not easily perceived, even for herself.

With another losing game, she could not counter how they would confide in her.  She watched as the ball toss.      

Damsel in Distress

Works tired her.  The routine bored her.  All work and no play indeed makes Jack a dull boy.  One glimpse at everyone else's life made her envious.  If stories were made of The Princess and the Frog, she would be that toad, waiting, and still waiting by the well.  For him, to whom was a prince, would be running after his princess on a horse.  And the toad, it was forsaken.  

Perhaps, the flowers had bloomed, but the petals had withered.  She sighed.    

Walk me through the woods, 

let the wolves prey,

where the feet brings me,

running to the unknown. 

Season of Love

Valentine.  The wrist-cut hand of a girl across the counter surprised her.  As if by a twist of fate, her joy was short.  Her countenance, her eyes did not reveal her identity as a cutter.  Navigating must have gotten rough,  how scary it was.  She squirmed.  And, God knows.  For He knows we're worth it.  Worth it.

Here she was to stay and make the difference that she could make.  Jason made sense:  even the stars they burnt, some even fell to the earth.  So, "we've got to learn"!  I have to learn what I got, and what I'm not, and who I am.  

We didn't break, we didn't burn, we had to learn how to bend, without the world caving in.  

Don't give up.  She won't. 

Love is patient, love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight it evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.    (1 Corinthians 13: 4-6)  

Men

"Help!  Help!"  someone screamed over the bathroom door.

She was confused.  How would someone, for no reason scream for help?  Her feet were stumbling against actions.  Should i check, or should i not.  Her heart skipped.  Untimely to fumble over the door, a sturdy figure appeared and seized her in seconds.  "...!  ...!  God."  

She jerked awake... another bad dream.  Her heart still raced.  Protect the family through this four walls, she prayed, staring at the opened windows.  Dumbfounded, she would be.  Shaking up the trauma, she sang herself to sleep.  

x   x   x

"I would break his leg if i caught him!"  She rolled her eyes.  Then you shouldn't be sleeping!  She couldn't understand why he had to brag.  Whatever happened, happened.  Period.

Above Her Feet

Questions why; sometimes, indescribable,

Other times, inexpressible; ends with silence.

One minute or the more; spotlights splurge,

Questions surmount; interests endlessly sprout.

A humble heart remains; snugging in its comfort,

Distracted by the uncertain; to no man's bait.

By an honest friend; she learns to trust,

To ends that meet none; it betrays her thrust. 

Comes the answer why; imperfection unaccepted,

Tolerance unlearned; better living her own.   

Mend A Broken Heart

All of her days, she chose to be obedient.  She did not cry for attention, but an obedient daughter, and a loving sister she wanted to be.  She put aside all rebellious thoughts of a teenager.  Those thoughts were built in clouds, never into actions.  

She said 'No' almost conventionally to alcohols, cigarettes and drugs.  People laughed at her chicken-heart.  The debate concerned not her boldness; she adhered to the rule parents know best for their children.  How could you say no when the greatest pleasure of indulgence left you defeated?  Her expression of discontent ended to illogical arguments.  Whom should stand for her; whom did she have, but families who discriminated her beliefs.    

Their never-good-enough comments were deafening.  "Am I, any worse than the son who crashed your credits on self-destructive pleasures?  Am I, any worse than the daughter who ran away to a foreign land to a stranger?"  

"How could you not accept me?"  

the other daughter.  

A Distant Call

She searched her soul, searching for a happy moment to brag about.  She wasn't unhappy.  She was indeed happy for a series of changes that was about to take place.  It was a moment to celebrate.  For the first time, she was overwhelmed, almost smiling herself in the way.

Perhaps, maybe she was overreacting.  She paused at the consequences of her self-indulgence.  All the happy moments came to a sudden stop.  "For once, a change," that was not meant to be.  

Distance was a test to see how far love can travel.  And love, it didn't travel far.    

"Let it go, let it go..."  She pulled herself up.   

Role Model

Infidelity was intolerable.  

"Choose, and ends it straight."

She closed her eyes to digest the newly-fed information and the words challenged, "Everybody's normal till you get to know them."  This day had arrived earlier than she had predicted.  Flashbacks threatened her, she wanted them erased.  It hurt when a sister she was and all the more for her to follow the steps.    

... when love betrayed.