broken shards


Sometimes I look up at the sun, because they told me that the sun signifies a new day, and a new start. 

And because it is only in daylight that we walk, we run, we hustle, it is only in daylight that we grasp hold of what is tangible and cherish the treasures infront of our very eyes, it is only in daylight that we remember how the scent of rain tastes like or how the trees turn a combination of mustard and champagne-gold when autumn arrives, or when our feet first touches the lukewarm parquet floor after we stumble out of our winter boots;

Because it is only in daylight that we see.

But it is also in daylight that we remember the box of conformity that is society replete with anxiety, it is also in daylight that we whip out our handmade wooden masks and conceal our souls, it is also in daylight that we bound our feet with the shackles of routine and jaded prospects of uncertainty;

It is also in daylight that we are unable to see the intangible.

That is when I learnt to look up at the moon instead, at the glistening night sky that manifests itself as an intrinsically interconnected web of stars and orbitting planets. 

And because it is only in nightfall that our sense of sight is numbed and we are forced to rely on our other humanely sensory devices, and it is only in nightfall that I can hear the voices of bitter love and dying desperation richocheting off the walls of my heart, it is only in nightfall when the weight of the world sinks into my chest as I lay down on my bed, it is only in nightfall that the scars on our bodies sting after we take off those wooden masks, it is only in nightfall that we are allowed to deviate from conformity and unleash our truest forms back into the wilderness of our hearts, it is only in nightfall when all of life’s uncertainties are suddenly magnified and on display for the stars to scrutinise, it is only in nightfall when I realise that my heart had been thrown out onto a stage under a spotlight that is daylight all along, and I had been dancing naked along to the sound of zooming cars and ringing cell phones;

Because it is only in nightfall that we feel. 

And that’s okay, it’s okay to feel only in the dark, because it is only in darkness that we discover our very own comets and learn to look up to the moon and the stars to lead us back to the ground, it is only in darkness that we regret the scars we have engraved on our bodies and the bodies within our minds, it is only in darkness that we listen to our hearts and break free from the shackles that bound our eyes together, it is only in darkness that we can escape.

Don’t be afraid that you’re hidden in the dark because really —

You’re on your way. 



What is the greatest invention in the universe?I’d say oblivion.
Because then, no one can hear 

The breathlessness of a dysfunctional society

That is en route to extinction;
Because then, no one can see

The naked bodies of self-esteem,

Warring faiths, and diseased politics;
Because then, no one can feel

The sharp brevity of hellos and goodbyes,

And blunt edges of starvation and poverty;
Because then, no one can feel

The piercing of arrows that are words 

And the uncertainty of change or I Love Yous;
Because then, time will stop,

And when that happens, 

So does the pain

Thoughts in Flight II 

Many days I sit alone in a roomThat I have conjured in my mind—

It is enclosed within 

White-washed walls and blood-stained floors.
And I sit alone in that room

To think about the days where I 

Danced along to the sound of your heartbeat,

And held your hands within my breath 

So that your heart would not turn cold;
And many days I sit alone in that room

To remember days when we had knives 

Sunken into each others’ chests

And the times we fell into the thorns

Of each others’ embrace 

Only to realise we did not mind the 

Blood-stained floors and the games

We were playing with each other;
And I sit alone in that room

Because now I finally understand

That the silence that is engulfing me 

Is the sound of the wind in our hearts

And the knocks on the door of my heart

Begging me to let go.

Lifeless Soul

They say that every human being Has one soul.

But why can I hear a choir

Of gaping spirits echoing,

A symphony of screeching fingernails

On the walls of my skin, 

Ominously bellowing from the 

Bottom of my heart? 

Thoughts in Flight

And suddenly I have lost my abilityTo move, to think, to cry;

To laugh, to fight, to try;

To breathe, to run, to survive;

To enjoy, to smile, to feel alive.

Because suddenly I feel the urge

To break every single bone in my body,

To count the number of cells in my blood,

To crack my fingers and knuckles,

To tear apart the worn-out folds on my skin,

To bite and rip apart the nails of my toes,

Only to realise that suddenly, I would do 


To be free again.


I cannot count the number of days I allowed pure ecstacy to claw its way up the ladder of my spine; 

I cannot remember the times I placed the tip of life’s end on the surface of my skin as it trailed along gently, deeper and deeper;

I cannot envision flashing lights and perfect smiles in the road ahead of me because I end up falling back on the painful thought of a downfall of acid rain and standing needles piercing through each vein on my wrist; 

I cannot find back the ability to open my mouth and convey the words I had nailed across my heart a million times only to desperately want to rip it apart bit by bit afterwards;

I cannot convince myself otherwise of the life I deserve and the one that is not deserving of me as I crumble my own core and wrench from within;

I cannot answer the questions that challenge the purpose of my living only to memorise, regurgitate and reproduce a much falsified yet beautiful image on a plain canvas;

I cannot pull myself out of the fire I chose to walk into due to the very fact that I am allowing myself to slowly slip away into solitude —

Because what I can do, is to acknowledge that, maybe, just maybe, happiness has become a sin that does not belong to me. 

Feelings II.

[never good enough pt. 2]

How do you value self-worth? 
Through the gradient of the colours in my eyes when they are wide open,

Through the way the nails of my fingers crave to tear each others’ skin apart, 

Or perhaps through the subtle glare in my eyes as I peer into the world using a microscope?

How do you value self-worth?

By desperately tugging on the strings of my heart, refusing to let go,

By pointing a gun to my head with the trigger inching steadily towards my thumb, 

Or maybe by the way my hands trail along each imperfection of this living body as I stare at my own reflection? 

How do you value self-worth?

Using the extent of my happiness or the rarity of my smile,

Using the moments my heart wrenched to see him decide to smile elsewhere because my soul was no longer present,

Or possibly using the number of times I dashed miles ahead only to unknowingly fall into an abyss? 

How do you value self-worth?

My worth is not worthy of money’s name to be used in vain,

My worth is not deserving of gold fonts and capital letters, 

My worth is not qualified for warm hugs on rainy days and kisses across my wrist. 

How do you value self-worth?

Because the truth is, 

I can’t.