Her Daily Struggle


Her Daily Struggle


She’s been seeking too much

Frustration dawns her when there’s vagueness

One day, she was so sure of herself

The next day, she felt like a stranger

in someone else’s body.

I looked at her in the mirror

Yet all I can see is a tangible figure

— with a shadow overhead and

a rainbow smile in the crowd.

She didn’t noticed

the dark patterns she left every day.

The way she explains herself to almost everyone

Because that’s the way she like to be defined.

To constantly prove herself to society,

it deteriorates her sanity.

Her mind is a jungle and

the wildlife inside it were fighting.

People never saw the chaos inside her head.

She dressed and act normal but inside she is scathed

by her own self nagging.

She is her own critic. Her own hater.

She never saw that she wakes up and walks with her own enemy.

And it was her daily struggle to not think

that she only belongs to

the land of the misfits.



What Happened to US?


You were once my favorite portrait

But boy what happened to us?

When all the vibrant turns into shadow,

broken paint brush on the floor,

paper tainted with tears.

What happened to us?


The lines and the curves

that draw our memoirs,

yet now washed.

Like a clean slate or an

empty canvass,

What happened to us?


Years passed,

yet perfection still elusive.

My arms gone tired

and the once flaming passion becomes ash.

I lost the things

I thought would last.

My heart, myself and — us.


The room that once filled with sunshine

where the artworks serve as witness

of your backhugs

and forehead kisses,

— was never lighted again.

Boy what happened to us?


You were once the subject of my art

and now all I can write

— is our story and all of its sad part.



Can we still?

Can we still?

I wanted to wait for the day when your gestures doesn’t count any significance anymore..

When the glances are no less than platonic discussion of the eyes..

The day when we stop waiting for each other turn so we don’t cross the same path and all will be the same as usual again.

I can’t wait for that day that we could go back to normal, no more awkward silences and hesitations to converse, can we still?


(But I know we can’t…so I won’t make it hard for you..)



5 years

The Old Times

I want you to smile, like the old times.
I just want to give it a try.
I’m sorry for changing a little bit.

But I can’t be that foolhardy anymore.
I’m not giving up, I’m resting myself.
Sometimes, we’re just too exhausting.



The Sad Idea of Us

The Sad Idea of Us

My silence has better words to say.

I’m still addicted to the thoughts of us, the possibilities but reality slaps that it’s a jungle to delve in.

You, who’s high as the star. Whose eyes are like black hole that any woman could be trapped and not recover. You, whose smile will never grow old.

Why would you even waste time for a mediocre lad?

So I scrape every memory and idea of us. It’s waking up every hour from a dream. Though your thoughts were intrusive. And I somehow hate it. I don’t know how long will this torment be.

Maybe as long as I could see your eyes across the desk or as long as I feel frantic in your presence.

Or maybe, I’ll just stick to the idea that only in friendship, I can have you around.  If that’s the only way for ‘US’ to stay…somehow that’s enough.



Perks of Being a Wallflower and the Love that we Deserve

Perks of Being a Wallflower and the Love that we Deserve

The supposed to be 2 hour movie was longer because there’s so many lines worth jotting down.

But these are the best ones,

Charlie: Why do nice people choose the wrong people to date?

Bill: Well, we accept the love we think we deserve.

Charlie: Can we make them know that they deserve more?

Bill: We can try.

Sometimes our own idea of love and the mere pressure that society gives to every relationship, we choose to settle for less. We choose comfort over dreams.

We choose to stay because we’re too afraid to dip both feet to uncertainty.

Sam: You can’t just sit there and put everybody’s lives ahead of yours and think that counts as love.

However, if you ever find a guy who reads every blog you wrote, or listen to your written songs, appreciate you like a piece of art,then don’t ever let go of his hand.

Charlie: I know who you are, Sam. I know I’m quiet… and, and I know I should speak more. But if you knew the things that were in my head most of the time, you’d know what it really meant. How, how much we’re alike, and how we’ve been through the same things… and you’re not small. You’re beautiful.

He is just the right taste of music you would love to hear all through your life. The right set of songs in your mixtape and the one you would love to crazy things with.

[She hugs him]

Sam: C’mon. Lets go be psychos together!

You’ll just know it.

Because the right love will push you too hard to do better and have bigger dreams for yourself.

Charlie: You are alive, and you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you’re listening to that song and that drive with the people you love most in this world.

And in this moment I swear, we are infinite. 

It spurs to embrace the unknown without fear, without doubts –to live in the moment and to love and be loved the most.


== I guess that’s the kind of love we deserve. ==




Credit: quotesgram.com, quotesvalley.com

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