In some odd
and dispassionate way,
she used to think of
all the things that could
possibly go wrong in a
single day.
She was that kind of
girl -
unfeeling and bland. You
couldn't really say
she was a heartless person.
In fact, she hated to be
called such.
Because she wasn't, really.
"Everything shifts and
spins at night like an insane
dance of the rising tides."
she said.
That tiny drop of faith
turned her nights of mourning
and grieving to her own
sentiments into a vision of
bliss. Like suicidal thoughts
and gloomy atmospheres
turn into promised carousel
rides and mornings spent
in terrains.
"Good days, good days"
she said.

Always believe in good
days.
Always believe that they're
gonna come. Sure there
will be times you'll feel a
bit of that hopelessness
course inside but
always believe that those
jocund little days
you have always longed for
will get to you one day.
It won't always come in
crashing waves.
Sometimes, it's just gonna
be an unexpected knock
on your door.

She was right there -
sitting in crossed legs,
the morning light
gleaming on her crimson
cheeks.
She was young
and naive.
Indecisive.
Quiet.
She became her own
defendant because she
chose to.
She wanted to be alone,
but she didn't consider
herself 'troubled'.
Because really, she wasn't.
She was an ordinary girl
who thought she,
standing alone, and not
having anyone get in her way
was much, much better.
Those days were rough
and now gone.
The thought of her
existence took precedence
over the thoughts
that have been intensely
clouding her mind.
"I'm alright. I hold no grudge."

One day, you'll see
her at a park bench or a
cafe and she won't
even notice you anymore
because she'll be too
busy exchanging laughs
with somebody else.
And you're just there, watching
her sip her coffee and her
mouth breaks into a smile
you always thought could
light up a town.
You -
you're frozen in place and
all you could do is heave
a deep sigh, watch as he strokes
her hair and feel your
heart sink because
hey,
she doesn't even recognize you.
Hurts, huh?

You deserve it.

Runaways

There's a girl riding
the midnight train
out there, weeping as
she slowly falls asleep to
the silence of the night.
There's another girl out there
biking the empty
streets of an unfamiliar place,
her heartbeat getting faster
and faster with every pedal.
There are kids out there
standing on the curbs
and patiently waiting
for the next bus to arrive, their
hands cold and shaky
from either fear or probably
just in a hurry, I'm not
quite sure why.
And you,
you're stuck in your home
wishing you were one of
these kids and could run away too.

—

Pieces

Every word that comes
out of your mouth sounds
like a poem with no vowels
and rhymes but I know
for a fact it's a poem because
it meant something to me
though I couldn't seem to
get the idea because every time
I think about it, generally, it
seems like an inconceivable
prayer waiting to be recited
by you, and only you.
Your voice exemplifies the
stillness in the ticking clock
and every tick is another
step away from the graveyard
where I buried all the words
I wish I could say but
never had the courage to
because maybe, I'm just
another lost girl still in search
for the light at the end of
the tunnel.

Will I ever get there?