Winter Dreams

Only remnants of the winter dreams, 
Hot breaths staining windows white, 
Each breath held a single wish, 
And every day filled with laughter.  


The first time I took a step outside alone, 
The last time it was done with you, 
Holding hands next to you, 
Just passing time.  


I miss you always, 
I wish I could see your reflection, 
I don’t know if your love is real, 
But I still feel angry.  


I can’t bring myself to say it, 
That I wish your hand was entwined with mine, 
The warmth of the falling snow, 
The superimposed, joining of hands  


Why can’t we meet the demands, 
Passing these faces and feelings alone, 
Will the next phase of the moon, 
bring about newer changes?  


Even if I come running to you, 
Everything hurts, nothing’s changed for me, 
Though I cherish your heart and love and smile, 
The many thoughts are rushing through my mind.  


I won’t let you go so let wishes, 
Let white wishes fade so I can blow them again, 
Carving our name with trembling fingertips, 
Gentle words from gentle lips.  


I was hiding my true self all along, 
Shrouded in a lonely city that never sleeps,
I don’t want you to just become a voice, 
from my distant memories.  


I miss you always, 
I wish I could see your reflection,
I don’t know if your love is real, 
But I still feel angry. 


I can’t bring myself to say it, 
That I wish your hand was entwined with mine, 
The warmth of the falling snow, 
The warmth of your lips on mine.

Airplanes

I had a cheesy thought after listening to that song, Airplanes by B.O.B and Hayley Williams.


If we could actually wish on airplanes as if they were shooting stars, I'd wish on the one in July and November.


Heres your bucket, enjoy puking your innards out.
On the other hand, I'm really sorry this came into my head, but it just did.

crumbling pedestals

when you're elevated on a pedestal of sorts, it's a long way to go when you fall.

(also, it hurts when your face and ego kisses concrete.)

i'd say it would hurt quite a lot.

there's the time where you're put on a high pedestal with assumptions of

'she's smart, she's a genius'

'she's brash and takes no shit'

'she's independent'

'she can take care of herself'

'she can take whatever life throws at her..'

..or whatever the like.

.

.

.

then your pedestal starts shaking,

when you start to slip up, when you don't perform up to par or your grades aren't as good as expected, or when the weight of the world's just too much.

there's no one else to hold you up because they assume you'll be fine on your own.

words have never actually bounced off you, but rather you've quietly absorbed the blows and hidden the bruises.

when you're vulnerable and scared and tired, but you have no one to turn to for comfort.

when your shoulders are wet from everyone's tears but your own drop silent onto the ground.

when life gives you too much to handle and you're cracking under its weight without anyone to help you up.

when your pedestal is crumbling underneath your feet and you have nothing to fall on.

Can you?

Can you see past the darkness?

That's what I am. Darkness. That chasm buried deep into the core of the earth where no one dares to set foot in because they know that they'll get lost in mindless babbles and broken trains of though. Once in a while, a careless stranger might edge in between the iron-wrought gates out of pure curiosity and then choose.

Choose to run, or choose to live alongside the darkness.
..most people run.

Out of fear, out of disappointment, out of anger... But that's only because they can not comprehend. Humans fear what they do not understand. So who am I to feel resent? Who am I to fight them off? It's a simple equation of a plus b and the result will always change.
Because things change.

Darkness and emptiness and everything is what I am. I'm a lost case, wandering along the lines of existence and oblivion, taking whatever is thrown at me and either absorbing it like a punch in the gut or throwing it back, with 10 times the force.

Sometimes I wonder about the bad things I do. The things that cause tears from others, the things that cause hate, the things that cause misunderstandings and broken bonds. The things that break people's hearts. Things that break me.
Piece by piece the heart breaks off and crumbles into dust that collects over centuries (or was it seconds cos I've lost sense of time) and there is no wind, no gentle forgiving breeze to brush it away.

My thoughts are ugly, like the black death spreading over a country, like the black ink i write with staining a pure white sheet in complete ebony. Ugly thoughts for an ugly person-- or else why would I wear a mask everyday? Like marble, like mud. Like rusted silver or crusted gold. Like the sludge and slime you go through before you hit gold.

So let the ocean of tears i've wept overnight cleanse me of my sins because I don't have the strength to face myself anymore.
I'm losing myself, i'm losing grip of who i've promised to be, I'm losing it.
But i'd much rather lose everything, than lose you.

Because you're the one thing that's bright in my life:
The single, wavering, flickering star in my space and my eternity--
and I never want to see you burn out.

It won't last

I. The type of silences that never goes away

Silences that are nothing but an empty, echoing void filled with held-back words and clumsy thoughts (because your presence always seems to be as distracting as the traffic in Times Square— loud, obnoxious, never-ending). These silences intimidate me: so suffocating. The vacuum drowning my entire body -like the oceans i've cried every night over you— yet when I drown, I float. I let go of all my inhibitions and gently waver between the lines of fantasy and reality because I can't tell the difference between them anymore. As the clock ticks, confusion overrides my mind and soon I crash back down onto the rocky pavement of hard reality and scrape my heart but that's okay because this type of pain reminds me that i'm alive.
And it keeps me awake, even though I'm still wandering.

II. Screaming breaks the silence

Overwhelming frustration, the type that ends in mind-wrenching headaches and paleness, blue-tinged skin with dark, empty eyes and shadowed circles under those glittering orbs (because emptiness and pain can also be beautiful). Anger ending with silence, sadness ending in the forever falling waterfall of black tears— not white, because you've already stolen my innocence

"Nothing left to say?"

Nothing and everything.

"Say something!"

If only I could

"You know I hate when you're quiet"

Yet I can't help it

"...say something. Please?"

I can't. Stop asking me to. I can't stand it.

Don't use that voice. Don't look at me with those eyes.

Don't. Stop. Stop it. Stop it now.

I'm b-b-b-br e a k i n g a-a-a-a p a r t

"I'm sorry."

III. Even angels can fall

A snowstorm of bleached feathers, as soft as your creamy, silken skin like a blanket of stars hung across an ocean of night, each snowflake radiating it's own light like a halo as it falls on my face, burning slightly (a gentle reminder from the angels that my own melting heart is what really hurts) before rolling down my cheeks, like rivulets of tears following familiar paths before shattering as it hits the floor; a hundred more broken tears to echo the thousands of broken hearts to mimic the millions of jagged pieces of glass (and baby, you better hope that I don't accidentally step on them because I don't need to bleed any more than I already have). And the hundreds, thousands, millions of minuscule diamonds isn't even worth what you could be to me, even though each glittering piece is a wish every night that I can stop dreaming of you-Because dreams are dangerous and your parched lips and hungry hands drink up every drop of my purity.
And I can't, don't want to stop you anymore.

IV. Blood, sweat and tears are nothing compared to what i've been through

And i've been through the storms, floods, hails and earthquakes ("is that the sound of my heart breaking?") and you can call me a liar but it's the truth.

"How can I believe you"

You can't.

You can't believe me because I could be lying. Every word I whisper, every word I scribble (dotting the i's and curling the y's because perfection is everything to me and elegance is the image I set myself up for) onto pure ivory pages with blotching black ink spreading like a starving disease could very well be a lie. "You mean the world to me," 's and "You're everything to me" 's and "I can't live without you" 's could just be a figment of our meager, limited imagination.


But I know that I can and will cross mountains and oceans for you (even if it means swimming in my own tears) and that you are not the world to me but you are the sun that my world revolves around because I would've eclipsed long ago without your dazzling smile. Let the truths rip your cloak of lonely dark to shreds, and face me like the sun you are because your imperfections are just what makes you painfully beautiful in my eyes...

...because cliche words, scarlet sunsets and "i love you"'s (so why are my memories so flawless) won't last forever








(...to be edited, rewritten, scrapped, sweared at, scrutinized and continued. 8D)
(c) Isabella Sayuri Tan




NOTE: As similar as it may be to someone's work. I stand by the fact that it's the same format but different words. Different words and different meaning. But respecting her wishes, I took it off everywhere except here. Because this piece.. also means alot to me.

Language of men.

What we think when guys say this to us:

"You look beautiful"
Bella: He means, "You're pretty decent, let's have sex =D" - Most playboys, if not all, really just want to win you over, get with you, dump and go, "asta la vista baby!" Then go brag abt it, what a guy. ==

Mimi: Beer goggles. Yayyyyyyyyy. Either he's really drunk, or needs to get his eyes checked out.

Thinking too much

Something in my chest pulls
This need, its unnatural
Slowly, slowly, I'm addicted
My mind, its blank
whenever you surprise me with words as sweet as honey

This devotion and perseverance, feels alien
2 years, is it worth it?
I hate these insecurity, this self loathing
You're out of my league
I know that
but I can't help but feel happy that you've noticed me at all

we only talk at night
and only on msn no less
you stay up later and later everyday
only going to sleep after I decide that I can't stay on any longer
but you should really take care of your own health

I wonder sometimes at night
how I'm gonna face you when you finally return
for you behave so very differently now
from when we last met face to face
would there be awkward silences
or comfortable hugs and chatting?

I think too much.

PS: This is what Disjointed Scribbles really mean. THEY DON'T LINK TO EACH OTHER AT ALL. Wtf am I writing.

Colours of my heart

He is like gold.

The rich, sunlit, bronze-but-much-shinier colour that the sun eagerly beams out, it's fingers hungrily absorbing the darkness of the night before. He is like gold, the colour of wealth and of power, his eyes glittering in the light, as hungry as the sunlight it reflects. He is like gold, he's worth more, much more than I can ever afford because who would want anything less?

His voice is like white.

The creamy, transparent white. The sort of white you see on the walls of a room, always there but never boring because this kind of white reminds you of the purity you've lost long ago because alcohol and used condoms are not something rare to come across in those parties you go to. The type of white that promises you hope, hope you've long forgotten and given up on.

His touch is like blue.

The soft, soothing turquoise, like the gentle ocean that rocks you to bed, the smell of sea-salts lulling you to sleep with the soft tendrils of seaweed caressing your body. The ocean that whispers promises, the waves lapping against the ground, washing away the surface you are standing on. This ocean could save you, washing away the filth from your body. The filth from your mind.

His love is like red.

The hot, fiery, burning flames of passion, slowly eating you away from the inside. It's searing hot, the pain enough for tears to well up in your eyes and drip down your cheeks. But you don't mind this kind of pain, because it makes you feel real. It makes you feel like you're alive again (because everything you've gone through before has already killed your heart and numbed your body)

You are like a dulled silver.

First dull, unnoticed, hidden away in the corner of the drawer. A last minute choice to be shown into the world. Grey, colourless and lying there, dead. Lifeless. Something left to slowly rust away until you're nothing anymore because that's what you're worth. Nothing. 

But I need him to look closer.

Because hidden under all that filth, dirt, dullness..

There is something special waiting to shine.

Song of longing

Let my voice reach your heart, 
It's the songs of echoing and loneliness, 
A gentle requiem, 
a song for the sun, for the moon, for the stars.  


I sink to the bottom of tears, 
To the depths of this forgotten fantasy, 
This artificial world lying at the end, 
is where my voice will fade away.  


To the sound of sudden silence, 
Hung with the resonance of thunder, 
Thunder of tears, thunder of war, 
A never ending cycle keeps on moving.  


A paradise of light and shadow, 
Light touches my soul yet shadow lurks behind, 
Carving your voice onto the map of my heart, 
I am looking for you in the sky.  


A song as soothing as the rain, 
A song that calls for the drowning of stars, 
A song that calls for my saviour, 
To save me from this darkness.  


A never ending, repeating history,
A never ending, repeating rainfall of tears, 
Whispers of sadness and lost ones,
I beg of you, don't leave me too.  


So i'll sing and sing, 
To protect the people of the light, 
Keep this darkness locked away from the world, 
To save the smiles of those innocent.  


Like those before me, 
Who fell to the darkness at their last breath, 
Who bled and cried tears of pain, 
Breaking apart in the echoing night.  


I weep for their painful death, 
Tears of blood drain from me effortlessly, 
But I will keep on singing no matter the blood or pain,
Until you hear me, find me, save me,  


Please save me. 


(c) Sayurichan (inspired by Synchronicity, a song by Vocaloids: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-gSJO1QxiSA)

It doesn't matter

No matter where you go.

It doesn't matter.

No matter what you do.

It doesn't matter.

No matter what you say.

It doesn't matter.

No, it doesn't matter.

You could be the president. You could be the beggar down the street. You could be the neighbour, or the one who lives far away. You could be a lawyer, you could be a waiter. You could be the next top artist, it doesn't matter to me.

No, it doesn't matter.

You could be mean, you could be kind. You could be arrogant, you could be sweet. You could be the world's biggest idiot, or the genius who wins awards. You could be going to Harvard, it doesn't matter to me.

No, it doesn't matter.

But.

You could be my friend, you could be my lover. You could be the one I turn to, or the one I always lean on. You could be my support, the reason I laugh everyday, you could be the one who makes me smile no matter what others say. You could be there for me, whenever I truly needed you

And that matters.

That really matters to me.

For the love of-

Why
Tell me why
Why do you have to be so far away?
I crave you
I miss you
I want to be around you
I want to hang out with you at a cafe, chatting away while on the laptop
I want to go to movies with you
I wish you were just around the corner of my house
I sit everyday at home
Waiting, hoping, wishing
To get a taste of you.
Again
and
again
I'm addicted to you.
Its hopeless.

WHY STARBUCKS WHY. WHY CAN'T YOU BE NEARBY SO I CAN HAVE SOME MOCHA FRAPPUCINOS.

Also why do you have to be so frikkin expensive =w=

Hey Girl

Hey girl,

I used to think

that you were kind

and loving

with flushed cheeks

and a cute smile

that dimple in your left cheek

when you laughed

you made me laugh

with your happiness

and your eyes

sparkled with life

and you listened to my secrets

and told me your stories

and we had our own language

and were able to talk

without any words used

and nights were spent

us having fun together.

But now,

Hey girl,

what happened to you?

you've turned cold

and you've turned sly

your cheeks are red

with all the makeup on

and that smile turned fake

with lipstick smeared all over

where he had run his lips over

your laugh 

leaves me feeling cold

it's not a kind laugh

and your eyes

are now hollow and empty

i don't tell you my secrets anymore

and you tell me lies

and our connection is broken

and what you say is alien to me

and the nights you spend

you now spend with him.

And now,

Hey girl,

where did you go?

This isn't the you i liked,

this isn't the you i'm friends with,

you've turned into someone else,

and that someone is a stranger.

Hey girl,

Bye girl,
Tell me when you're yourself again.