Dio sia con me,

It becomes too easy to pull that dangling string, to grab hold of whatever that falls and collapse in comfort.
Anything to remove this constant shiver that doesn’t leave. It moves from the end of the spine, up. To the neck. Too sensitive.
This inward growth sucks up whatever good that is left in me and I find myself tearing it apart. Along the dotted lines I tear.

Take a Hike,

We walk a little
We fall a little more
We hurt more than a little
Some say tomorrow brings a better day
Others dictate a rainbow is
earned by enduring the storm.
Sticks and stones may
break my bones
but words will never hurt me
Is an oxymoron.
True in its lies,
False in its truths.
Tomorrow of a better day
rolls along.
Waves,
Pats me on the back
Says,
I’m on my way bitch.
Are ya coming?
I’m still walking,
Hands reached for the horizon
And the alarm sounds
like how the sun is setting
Outside my window.
Am I on my way?

Tomorrow

When the letters
of your name
form in my head,
Your face
framed and frozen
in my mind.
These pictures
I pick up,
put them together
as you stare back at me
with glass stained eyes.
In this,
I lose myself in the
chest of memories.
It isn’t soon before long
that tomorrow comes
The pieces of you
disintegrates
into the dust of today.
No need for apologies
because there’s
no reason to say goodbye
When you live in my head.

Up

When I paint a picture of your heart,
I’ll draw a star,
a balloon and maybe a house
Flying toward the night sky
It floats into space
where once upon a time
was once ours.
Fly far and wide,
find that pop
and
fall into paradise falls.

The Singer

When I hear your voice
I hallucinate.
You’re in my heard and
I think about you,
I think about me.
I wonder if there is ever
A place where the you and me
In my head can be real
And not a screen.
This is not good
But you keep calling out to me.
The smoke of the extinguished fire
Lingers.
You grasp at my soul
As I allow you to penetrate my being.
The wind blows
You away and back
She asks if you’re what I want.
My fingers clenched around
The silkscreen of your voice
As you continue singing
This song.

Hallucinations

When my feet comes out of the ends of my blanket,
And the cold wind blows against them.
The voice that seems so clear in my head,
Almost as if he’s singing beside me.
But the cold wind blows against my feet.
Hello. World.

;

” I sometimes hold it half a sin
To put in words the grief I feel:
For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within.”

–Alfred Lord Tennyson, In Memoriam

和你一起走過的人

幾米的童話城堡

和你一同笑過的人，

你可能會把他忘掉；

和你一同哭過的人，

你卻會永遠忘不掉。

Walking Tall

I know it’s a little late, no, very late since it has already been a month since the start of the new year. It is still a beginning.

I have a new 2012 planner in hand, a new diary and most of all, a new heart. Together, I’ll tread into 2012 with light steps. Everything for now is unclear and unknown. I have no idea what’s going to happen and frankly, I’m worried and excited at the same time. As much as I want to say: “Adventure’s out there!” I can’t, when all I do most of the time is migrate from my bed to my sofa and my mind wonders. To nowhere. When I lie on the sofa, I think to myself, so what now. But I’m still stuck on the sofa. I think about the things of the past, imagine the future and I’m missing out on the present. See, I know that. But somehow the present sticks out like a sore thumb and it is just, sore. Perhaps I spend too much time looking at it.

I’m not gloomy, it’s not a bad start of the year. It’s just slow. Maybe because I’m growing older? Instead of bounding and leaping, I feel like an old woman, carefully strolling on the stone path. I sound like one too. No worries, I’ll just hang a sign around my neck that says “Old Woman coming through, Give Way”.

Paradise

So lying underneath those stormy skies.
She said oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh.
I know the sun must set to rise;