What is it like to eat? To crave for food? To have the appetite to even crave?
I remember a time when eating was fun. It was nice.
Simple meals. On the ground. Conversations.
I remember watching how he danced around the kitchen and performed his magic.
The way he taps on the salt and pepper, carefully sprinkling the right amount to achieve the desired taste.
The simplest dish became the most precious one.
I remember carefully eating them; chewing and swallowing silently.
I remember savouring the taste of each dish; grateful not only for the food, but also for the presence of the cook.
I remembered to always express my gratitude, because I know how eating would one day cease.
Because I remember knowing how his presence would one day cease.
Now, I know naught of cravings, of appetite and of food.
Even fruits have began rotting in my fridge.
And all I know of, is the taste of coffee, of milk and of sleeping pills.
Two weeks and counting. Maybe a deadline would be approaching.
I remember a time when eating was fun.
And even then, I knew it would be the best time I would have had.
Not because it’s safer, but because there’s nothing left on the inside to break, to shatter.
You curl up to gather whatever that’s left.
Your curl up to compress the hollowness inside, hoping to make a small mass, so that no one sees the nothingness that’s left.
You curl up, not because it’s safer.
But because you can never predict the attacks from the back, but now, you want to guard yourself from the any damage that can be inflicted from the front.
You’ve already got the world in your hands. Oh, but of course. Go on. Continue to act like you’ve got nothing.
Just sleeping, you’re just as well dead.
In all honesty, you were one of the coolest dame.
The one with class, the one with style, and the one I would have admired till this day.
But you have a tiny heart and your soul has an insatiable need for control.
So while I might always live in darkness, I am not stained by the shadows that haunt yours.
And while I might never surface, only those who are true have remained close.
Maybe, that says a lot.
May our paths will never cross again.
Make haste, because.
Give me an expiry date, so that I know when I’ll end.
So that for once, I can be a right, rather than the wrong.
Because even when there’s nothing left to shatter, it fucking hurts like hell.
Give me an expiry date.
Make haste, please, make haste.
Let’s hope the heart numbs completely in the next 20 nights.
She lives in a palace, high and away.
Always protected. Always supported.
And at the end of the day, we all work to protect her.
To forsake our happiness, only to safeguard hers.
Maybe, one day she’ll see.
Oh, that girl in the palace, is she.
Reckless. Reckless. Reckless.
Starve. Starve. Starve.
Pills. Pills. Pills.
Because with an end, worry would cease.
Because my eyes cannot continue crying like this.
Because his heart, it cannot continue hurting like this.
So please, stop breathing already, D.
I did miss you. The way your eyelids kissed whenever you smile.
And somewhere in my dreams, I’m pretty sure I heard your voice, once again speaking to me.
But my dreams always end with judgment, with profanities hurled at me, and that weird pain that aches inside my gut.
And you, you I miss all the time.
The shadows of you everywhere. The way you walk, your voice, your gaze.
It aches so bad and I’m using all my strength to crush every single hope I have for you.
Decisions, I could only respect but not make.
The repercussions, I can only turn numb and not feel.
Numb, but not numb enough.
When can I be numb enough to stop crumbling down on the ground, in my car, crying?
When can I be numb enough to no longer need pills to sleep?
When, oh when, will this breathing finally cease?
“Because you won’t love me when you finish…
…and I don’t want to see that happen.”
Because it would kill me to see you and never be able to hold your hand again.
But enough, I would never be.
I have one more day to die in a different way. Please, die for real already.
Ten stories under my shoes.
Am I ready for the thrill of the leap and the regrets before the crash?
I laid in bed, despite not one who lies-in.
Just to remain next to you.
But I heard my expiry beckoning.
Beckoning for me to go to.
My heart has failed and my strength no more.
The remnants of my fatigue won’t keep me going on.
Tomorrow will not come.
But I laid beside you today.
And it was nice.
And maybe this once, being human was nice.
Being human was worth it.
But when ashes returns to dust, will the charcoal’s fun still love his lady luck?
I’m sorry. Thank you. I love you. Bye.
I almost how comforting it is to be around people who have similar roots to me.
And sometimes, it’s nice to just be that youngest sister and not that individual who needs to constantly stand alone.
But maybe, being so distant isn’t that bad too. At least, demise wouldn’t be so painful.
I’m sorry, sis. But thanks and I love you.