little girl, Big World

Saturday, September 29, 2007

Feel out of touch with my reality. Feel like I'm reduced to going through certian motions, as if I was going round in circles, not finding myself going anywhere, but yet not where I started from. I'm changed, bit by bit, but unaware of what actually is changing.


I bleed, from where you pierced me,
From all the cracks that revealed themselves slowly
Formed by the illusion of hope, of expectations.
What you offered me, decaying to cold, cruel detachment,
Twisting my naive mind to knots of hurt and confusion.
Regrets come too late, tears come too fast.

Words fail me.

Disappointment chokes me.

Scram. Leave. Go. Before I lose control.

Saturday, September 15, 2007

A Side Note

To ease your guilt stricken conscience

Years of friendship, doesn't she mean more than that?

Obligation, Duty, Responsibility.


Ultimately, it boils down to priorities.

We tend to take the things we value most for granted, ironically.

They always say that doing the right thing is not easy. Because even after you do it, the murmurs of dissent that follow it is not right. We struggle daily to do what is right. And I think that the action of what is right is not enough. The heart and mind must be one.

sigh. I hate conjunctivitis. HEAL FASTER!!!!!!!!!! WEAK. Boo.

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Solace: Escape.

She stands erect on the bridge, transfixed.
By the hypnoptic blurring of headlights beneath.

Perplexed at the complex entanglement of fate.
Breathe.
In.
Out.
And in again.

She reaches out a hand and grasps the air.
Hoping to hang on to something that defines the moment.
So fleeting, so precious.
Every second that passes,
irreversible.

The elusive purpose of life.
When lives collide,
the flash of brilliance.
The eruption of colour.
She looks, but she doesn't see.

Her face burns, not from tears.
Overwhelming pain paralyzes.
Gasping.
She collapses, shattering to infinte pieces.
Yearning, desperately searching for that healing touch.

It has gone.