look at me now.

Saturday, 25 June 2016

sup doc.

Um so uh um hello.
Yea it's me. Alright I guess.
So yeah.

I know what she'd ask,
what she'd expect.

Um so uh how do you put this.
Like yknow when um, you want to go back?

Back where she'd ask.

Back, like yknow back to the illness.
Home- back to the sadness.
I can't take the one looking right back at me in the mirror.
I noticed everything, everywhere and it's driving me insane.

So um like yeah, I gotta go like I'm not dead enough to go.
I hate it, I hate this, I, I, I wanna shed all this fa-
I gotta be tiny again, I've to feel cold and every inch of my bones.

I can't swallow these things no more.
I need to feel every slash against my arms.
I need to see things bleed and all the scars that reminds me of it.

My head hurts, I want to quit my job.
God I love my job but I can't do this.
I can't take what's in my head, I can't take the repulsion towards myself.

Um so, uh, dr. how is it going to be now?
I think this is my last 150 for now, see you in a few months.
See you when I've got cash. See you when I see you.
Or maybe not at all.


losing touch.

Each day much more than the memories I once held to, vanishes into the back of my mind. Now out of it. Most of what I had of him is fading immensely. Tell me our tales, remind me of him so I don't forget. Then again- it's almost too late.


take your places.

And I can tell you that my mum's happy when she sings. 
Then life comes around, slaps her across the face. She goes silent for awhile. 
Sometimes not at all. But we all know in these moments,
that we're all at fault.

a different love.

Never love until you are loved, never fall until he is sure. 
Just remember this time, let him be yours.


been awhile.

Now there it is, there's the riri I know. There's the riri I'm used to. One I was comfortable being despite the abhorrence for it. Now there you are ri, I've missed you. Your thoughts, all the fucked up pieces of you, your fragile, vulnerable, miserable, insane, alone, lonely, self, head, nights, never day. No never. This sickness- you are sick ri. Yet you are fine.

And I still miss you.
I miss you all the time.


Thursday, 23 June 2016

fambam bang bang.

Family's family.
Family's no longer we.
Though we still pretend to be.

It's okay to cheat.
Act as if that they don't already see.
At the end of the day we've nobody.


so, uh, no thanks.

And well, what if I want us to end?
Because I know where this leads us to.
And who'll leave who.


mark you.

I always will.

I'll come around or make you believe you did,
I'll hang around or make you stay over your own will,
I'll smile and laugh and make you feel a certain way,
or perhaps you will,
and I die.

We always will.

You'll come and you go or I'll cut all ties,
you'll go and you come and I'll let you in,
you stay and I leave, this time I win,
this time no you and me,
just you,
and there's,
well, me.

I might forget soon,
but you'll remember me,
I swear you would.

I promise you.


another t-d-g.

Everything's coming together to fall apart.
Sentence of the moment, though I don't want to dwell on it.

Everything happens for a reason, you just haven't found out what it is yet. It still amazes me how things would slowly in a way or another reveal itself to you. Why haven't we moved, why Bangi, why Kajang, why Saujana fucking Impian, why? Funny he's from here, funny he notices and rather bloody hilarious that he'll be leaving too soon.

Sigh, I was just starting to immensely fancy him.
Ah too soon too soon, what a shame to feel too soon.


Friday, 17 June 2016

between me and i.

Some things never change.
Then again.
Still is.

Sober or high,
It has always been you.


Thursday, 16 June 2016

miss me one day.

There's always those moments when I think of him and get the urge to start up a conversation. I would know that every time, it was me missing him and each time I would remind myself to let it go. That he wanted to go. If he didn't he wouldn't have went. I tell myself each time, it would be better for him this way. He wanted it like this. No matter how many times I wanted to believe otherwise. Still nobody gets what he was to me. Guess so did he.


Wednesday, 15 June 2016

back again.

Once beyond petrified of being seen crazy to everybody else, 
knowing that I was going insane with myself that I-

And I got back up despite the amount of times I wanted to relapse because I never really had a choice. I can never let myself rest in peace. Even in the calm, my head is still me. My past is still mean and the voices are banging behind the doors I have locked, which keys I have swallowed to avoid these sort of things. Then again we already know you can never really leave what you are.

It is what makes you. 
Now trying to break me.


Monday, 13 June 2016


Home was holidays with aci.
Home was me pretending things weren't happening.
Home was home before I wrecked it.

Home was absent.
Home so lonely.
Home was cold.
Home is empty.

Home is alive, often moving around.
Home isn't a place, a house isn't home.
Home is anywhere I end up at, anyone I come across.
Home is where the love is, and where it soon ends.

"Go home" they would tell me.
Not knowing home isn't mine to keep.
"Home" does not exist with me.
Home is lost to me.


Tuesday, 7 June 2016

more than a touch.

There's something about it; holding hands, giving or receiving hugs, the sincere human touch. It's just a sudden thought, a sudden realisation looking back at these past few months, weeks perhaps. There's a difference in how it makes you feel, according to when or who's doing it with you. Nobody's the same. You don't just hold someone's hand or let just anyone hug you. Still I've my moments.

Not to forget- presence. Lately it's been hitting me how vital human touch is to me. I've been going on with so little human contact in the past few years and in those months of illness especially, that picking myself back up and getting stable, feeling human again, is causing me to crave so much of that. Going back to the two years where I did have it all doesn't make it any better either.

There's something about the hugs I got when I was breaking down or the hand that held me and mine when I was petrified and out of my head, these moments, these people, they've been more than amazing. The nights where they had to sacrifice sleep to take care of me or the times where they stayed despite the uncomfortable circumstances and the backache from it. Cherishing all I've got before it goes.

Hoping that someday something stays. 
Despite believing nothing will. 
I can't take another touch n go.
I'm sick of getting touched that way.


Wednesday, 1 June 2016

peekaboo, I've seen you.

Is this the part where everything dies?
Start over, find new people, do things differently.

Amusing and predicted. I don't really bother keeping people since I-don't-know-or-fucking-want-to-bother-at-the-moment but when I do, I do. Like every other time, soon something happens, all is lost, I'm left alone, encounter someone new, something fresh, something old, something interesting, just to go through it all again to get back to this. Things can only last so long before it goes back to how it was, how it wasn't there to begin with. Optimism helps for awhile but you've to face the music whether or not you're ready for it.

Old thoughts creeping back in, this is exactly why I cut people off. It's not as easy as it seems to get to this state, to stay sane and not give in to the demons in my head, the anxiousness, the trauma, the flashbacks, all I've been ignoring and blocking to forget. People still don't get it. I go through shit, refrain myself from going back to what I was, what I have the strongest urge to becoming, just to be triggered at the most execrable moment and be reminded of the things I've been told way too many times before to the point of abhorrence towards myself, and to be dragged to where I was when I was the utmost fragile, vulnerable and fucked, has me wondering, who's even there or wants to be when most of them are no different than who they said they weren't or promised to not become.

Despite acknowledging the fact that nobody knows, I wonder why I still get surprise when I'm proven right. I can't seem to find the answers to why no matter how many times it has happen there always seem to be a point in the duration of knowing a person where I genuinely believe in them, thinking that they might just be different although deep in my heart I know that nobody ever is for as long as it's with me. It's never really them now is it, it has only ever been me. I think it's time to go back to the home I've lost but I can't seem to find it no more so I guess I'll just get lost. Besides, it's not like I have ever belonged.

Every stop, stops becoming home.


and so he stays.

Said things are bound to end at a point, he tells me it only ends if we want it to. 
His rational reasonable sense has been keeping my head up these days. 
It annoys you but you know it's right. You know he's right.