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Poetry - "screams left unheard."
written on Friday, April 29, 2016 @ 9:30 PM
3/4/2016 — Sunday.
we scream louder than the thunder
left us with a burning throat
the truth is, once we've settled down;
none of our voices were being heard.
tears fall down like a heavy downpour,
hidden sobs shake our rusty old lungs.
when the hand reaches to wipe it all off,
the tears were never there;
only the fresh scars that stung.
people watch; but what do they see?
“we're here and so do we care.”
but how much do they really mean?
they all hand us a diamond
that were mistaken for a glass
when they have seen the mess that
they all caused,
they flee away, at last.
how many times, sweetheart,
tell me, how many?
you looked into their eyes
with yours that scream “save me!”
with a smile as sweet as honey,
for they never truly see,
how much you are breaking
holding yourself from drowning
in the depth of sorrow's sea.
—L.D
accidentally forgotten this one. ugh.
Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "darkness comes to visit."
written on @ 9:20 PM
29/4/2016 — Friday.
you said that,
everything will be okay in the end.
but mum, why didn't you tell me?
a few of couple burns later,
a little now and a little then,
the sparks of fire will bring back
those burning sensation.
although the matches were never lit
and the flames were never burned.
just the nostalgic and traumatic experience.
you told me about the ending,
“everything will be alright, dear!”
but dad, what about the rising plot
and the climax before we hit the
dead end of the road?
leaving me feeling like i am dead.
because never once you told me that
when i put others as my happiness,
that's how i fall into self-destruction.
so maybe alright is not enough for me
when i have been crushed into dust
and blended in with the poisonous air.
the teachers never told me that
the moment i reached the recovering point,
it will never be the last i will get recovered.
because hey, a few relapses wouldn't hurt.
the crunching bones from my spine
echoed for lying too long on the bed,
when i'm thinking about the boy in my class
who vowed to never leave me
and solemnly swore that he will love
every inch of me and my darkness,
but ended up leaving me as soon as he bleed
when his gentle hands touched my sharp demon-like claws.
so, i covered myself with the fur
from the beast that i can never kill
because it has forever lived
underneath my flesh, bone and skin.
the darkness has been inside for so long
that it feels like home when it comes
to visit me, when they heard every lies
that i said when people ask me,
"how are you?"
this is a battle cry.
i repeat, this is a battle cry.
the pain that comes and goes frequently
never truly left me alone
even when, even when i feel better
the bitter are bothered by seeing
my faux smile and forced laughter.
because it knows for a fact that
i am never truly healed,
i just left the scars
untouched, untreated, unstitched.
so when it pokes me in the wound,
i fall into my knees,
begging with a plea to never come back
and to please leave me in peace.
with trembling hands, i twist the knob
to let the demons in and decided that
it could stay for another few months
until i finally feel that i deserve
a whole another journey of recovery.
but i am wrong, of course.
because this time, i am fatigued
with all the long pauses and breaks
before the ending comes.
so i just fell into the hole of giving up,
“hey, welcome, how may i help you?
drugs, blades, alcohol, punches,
or falling in love with the wrong person?”
and i choose with whichever
that can overlap my pain the best.
my thoughts are filled
with perhaps and maybes, that
just like when we miss the wrong people
every now and then,
we miss feeling the pain that burns.
maybe that's why, that's why
people don't let go of something that
breaks,
bruises,
wounds,
and scars them.
because holding on to pain feels
much less hurtful than
relapsing into the a whole new pain of
missing them again, and again, and again.
so, i quit reaching to the end.
and choose to stay at the pauses
with the pain instead.
—L.D., “darkness comes to visit.” Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "shaken misguided voices."
written on @ 9:13 PM
28/4/2016 — Thursday.
shaking lungs, uneven heartbeat.
i breathe through all the dust,
gritting teeth out of the rust.
forced smile, awakened silence.
taking it in, as people pulling it out.
"i dare you, to look me in the eyes and say
that you are sick. you are fucking sick in
the brain that you don't make any sense
in this world, any longer."
i gave up.
i look away. because let's be real,
people always need an evidence
for every single thing in this mad world.
and i cannot fucking
take out my brain and heart
and show it to them how much it is
damaged, bruised, and wounded,
they'll laugh every time.
because if you cannot see it;
it was never really there, right?
"pull your shit together, hun."
i am indeed.
shaking, trying to get a grip
of all my broken pieces that are
slowly, but surely is falling apart.
as i hold another pieces,
the other one falls.
"why are you so lazy?
get out of your room."
i am not.
it just hurts every time i move.
do you even understand at all?
the sharp edges scratch me
and cut me open till i bleed.
bleed, and bleed, and bleed away.
wishing that i can bleed the demons out,
but i lose my sanity a lot more
than the blood that bleed from
the unstitched battle scars.
it is hard to make people believe,
when they do not fucking care
in the very first place, is it not?
—L.D. Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "the phases of loving you."
written on @ 9:11 PM
26/4/2016 — Tuesday.
i have never been in love with a moon
more than i do right now
but how did i fail to remember that
there are phases of moon
and when the time has come,
the moon will be completely gone
from the night sky
and all that's there is just myself,
sitting alone in the darkness
with the sound of midnight's silence.
the phases of moon goes from
full moon to half moon;
and half moon to crescent
into a complete darkness.
leaving me with all that familiar feelings;
the same as how your love towards me
fades away bit by bit.
and when it is the time of the month,
the feeling that was there is all gone.
so is there any possibilities
for me to run away from you,
thinking that i've gone far enough?
because don't you remember
that when we were in single-number age,
we always thought that the moon
is following us everywhere we go?
and i ended up running in circles,
as i thought that i have run far enough
i am actually closer to the starting line
than i ever did before.
or maybe i'm just running in denial
because i never want to be
far away from the presence of the moon
and never have i ever want to
lose my sight away from you.
—L.D., "so, please, dear moon, forget to fall down from the sky." Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "shades of paint on my skin."
written on @ 9:08 PM
6/4/2016 — Wednesday.
i fell in love with a painter.
at first, he drew me,
but then, he drew all over me.
red splashes all over when
he splats the paint away.
the purple began to appear,
when i left it couple of days.
black and blue & black and blue,
i'm confused if that's the feeling
that i'm feeling
or is that the colours that i see
up under my pale skin.
—L.D., “he left me with colours that nobody else can see with their bare eyes.” Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "fictional cliches."
written on @ 9:04 PM
2/4/2016 — Saturday.
if you were to be a fictional character; you'd be the one that makes everyone happy in spite of getting hurt. you'd be the one who will carve a smile on everyone's faces even if you have to carve your own skin. you'd be the one who thought that your existence doesn't really matter when your companion can be convenient to some. you'd be the one with the blue eyes although the actual colour is dark brown; whose smile fakes a yellow bright sun. you would be all these things in the morning. but when the sky darkens, and clock struck past 12, you shifted into someone you knew. someone you hide under your skin, scared of showing your own scars. people talk, people see; but do they ever really speak to you and watch closely? deep within, you have been hurt numerous times but you played that happy character so well, that even you started to believe it. you keep yourself busy by making someone else happy, when someone else is watching you from afar on how you try to mend your broken heart. you'd be the one with thoughts that will never shut up when you are on your own. you think, you wait, but for what it costs, you don't know what's actually holding you back in mind. you'd be the one that never see their own beauty, but appreciate others tremendously. if you were to be written as a fictional character; i'd fall in love with you deeply.
—L.D Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "the moon and the speck of dust."
written on @ 8:59 PM
30/3/2016 — Wednesday.
how screwed am i;
when i let my curtains down at night
just so that i can see the moonlight
peaks in through my window
every now and every then?
how screwed am i;
when i feel like i don't mind
a little light from the moon
when i used to the darkness
for so long that i forgot
how beautiful the moon is?
how screwed am i;
that i can't wait for the day to end
because i have been longing
for the night sky and the moonlight
to keep me company for when
i can't sleep at night?
all of my past lovers are the stars
but you know what the people say,
“the stars are dead but the light is not,”
that's why the memories still haunt me
but your presence lights up
the darkness inside of me
and make me forget how broken
was i before you came.
so, sweetheart, tell me how screwed am i;
when i don't care if i'm screwed
to be in love with the moon that much
to be in love with the moon, that is you.
—L.D “so, honey, if you are the moon, i don't care how screwed am i as the gravity has chosen us to fall for each other.” Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
51. Poetry #8 (part 2)
written on Wednesday, February 10, 2016 @ 5:00 PM
pt. II – how the breaker breaks the broken.
i'm telling you, honey. i'm telling you.
maybe you just turn your back to me,
have yet to move anywhere.
or that you just cover your wounds,
with a bandaid that keeps falling off.
because as soon as our eyes meet,
your heart finds its way back to me,
and your wounds were opened, unhealed.
i'm telling you, sweetheart. i'm telling you.
maybe you did build the highest wall
and burn all the bridges down.
but you threw the keys away,
leaving the front door unlocked.
so when i come back knocking,
you will open the door at ease.
i'm telling you, my love. i'm telling you.
maybe it's not the matter of time
for the wounds to heal nor
how far you've tried to run away from me,
you keep coming back to the same spot,
where you started.
because, my dear,
maybe all it take was the fact that
i have been there before,
that i know how to win your heart back.
maybe all it take was for me to
hit the right spot to lead me back
to the right place.
because, maybe
all it take was the memories
that was ever there and never left.
because you are too afraid to forget.
—L.D “the crack on your heart leaves a space for me to come and go.”
Seize The Words,
L.
Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
50. Poetry #7 (part 1)
written on Monday, February 8, 2016 @ 5:00 PM
pt. I – tell me how do you break the broken.
tell me, honey. tell me.
how can i move on from you
and be be completely healed from the wound,
but the second our eyes collide,
the stars come back aligned.
tell me, sweetheart. tell me.
how can i build the highest wall
and burn all the bridges down
but as soon as you knock on my door,
i let you in every single time.
tell me, my love. tell me.
how can i let my guards down
when you were right in front of me,
standing. just standing.
not even talking to me.
not even looking at me.
yet, i still fall for you again.
like you're the gravity, pulling me down
to the surface of the Earth.
—L.D “how can i love you again when you were the reason to the crack on my heart?”
second part of the poetry will be posted this Wednesday.
Writer's Block sucks,
L.
Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
#37 - Poetry #6
written on Thursday, December 17, 2015 @ 1:07 AM
20/11/2015 — Friday.
i hand you a white blank canvas
to let you paint me with colours
the way you want to look at me
in the way that i will capture your attention
and be mesmerised by my beauty
that you have created all over me.
you splashed me with red,
to symbolise our fiery love.
you splashed me with blue,
to symbolise the calmness of our love,
you splashed me with black,
to symbolise our mysterious love.
what you painted was a beauty
but everyone said it was a mess
but my love towards you
was strong enough to shield
the talks from coming in
i should have listened to them
i should have seen it through their eyes
the soon you left.
the red becomes my anger;
the blue becomes my melancholia;
the black becomes my soul.
maybe that was what you were trying to preach
that i was the definition of a walking disaster
i thought i knew what the meaning behind all of the colours that you used.
but i don't.
that was my mistake for letting you build me
and i should have known right from the start
that the hand that stroke the paintbrush on the canvas,
will be the same hand that will burn me down in flames
when you have found another pretty picture
to look at other than me.
—L.D "red, blue, and black are not my favourite colours anymore.”
Carpe Librum,
L.
Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
#32 - MY SPM'S NARRATIVE ESSAY
written on Sunday, December 13, 2015 @ 11:36 PM
everybody said that the plan would never work. it was far too risky. i mean, how can people expect her to be safe after her attempt of saving me? it took a mountain of courage for her to stand by my side while i was standing on the edge of the building. the memory was still fresh in my mind. i could even remember the smell of the city. it was the smell of people burning the leaves mixed with trash. it was horrid. like it was a sign that my existence was up to no good.
we have been friends ever since we were in our mothers' wombs. i knew her even before she knew herself. i had always admired her beauty. the inner and the outer. i always thought that maybe even without her beautiful, complexion skin, she would still be a beautiful walking skeleton.
the first day of fall was the day when everything was falling apart. everything went pale. i felt worthless. a few questions popped into my head. why was i still here? what good will it bring to me? what good will I bring to people? the answer for all of the questions was suicide. i wished i had a better reason to end my life, like my father abused me or i was bullied. however, i did not have the reason to feel this way. i had a happy family and they all loved me. maybe that's why i had the tendencies to kill myself. i felt like i was not meant to be in the perfect picture of a happy family.
gratitude was a strong feeling that i felt to have her as my friend. she was always there to brighten up my day when the sun was hiding behind the dark clouds of thoughts of mine. although, the feeling did not last longer than i intended it to be. as soon as she went home, i began to plan on how to end my life. i even listed up the pros and cons. like what would happen after that. i used to be scared of dying but i could fear death no longer. i had died a thousand times.
i chose the day of Halloween so i could disguise myself as an ecstatic girl. or an angel. who would have thought? i decide to jump off of a building because the last thing that i wanted to do before i die was flying. i climbed up the stairs with my angel-like costume. the adrenaline rushed to my whole body. my heart was leaped with enjoyment but my legs were quaking.
i did not acknowledge that somebody was following me all along. too excited, i guess? i could feel a hand laid on my shoulder. i instantly recognised whose hand was it. i was right. it was her. the amount of guilt that i felt was unbearable.
"why are you doing this?" she asked me a question which i have the answer to. loads, even. somehow the words just could not get out of my mouth. like it was pulling me back up in my throat.
"you don't deserve this, Brooke. you deserve to live." tears started to roll down her cheeks. "hey, i got nothing to lose. nobody knows my name. i got nothing to gain neither. the day doesn't seem to change. it just happen to be stormy all year round."
"i cannot be all that you need me to be, Becky. we have got good things going. we even have some promises to keep. but my addiction it can be such a detriment," i said simultaneously let out a breath that i did not realise i was holding back. "but you don't deserve this." she sobbed. she then looked at me with her beautiful emerald green eyes.
she was right. i did not deserve this. my mind flashed back to when i was staring at my crush like i wanted to be stared back by him. he did. it just happened to be that he was not staring at me. who would want to gaze at a timid, shy girl who basically lived under her hoodie when she was standing right beside her exquisite, tall, Victoria's Secret model-like friend? as always, Becky was the one who got everyone's attention.
i finally realised that she was the reason that i want to kill myself. she had always got everyone's attention. she was this smart, intelligent, beautiful, perfect little American sweetheart and i was this shy, timid, introverted American psychopath.
"you were right, i don't deserve this." she began to wrap her arms around me. "but you do." i pushed her off the building. she gave me a betrayed look on her face before she fell. her screams echoed throughout the whole town. i looked at her as she was falling. just like how she just looked at me even when she knew i was falling apart.
people often forgot that the devil was once God's favourite. the devil was once an angel. the devil was the fallen angel. just like me, i was angel for halloween but it was all a disguise.
she should have expected what she was going to get when she took the risk. i finally got everyone's attention. everyone now would look at me with their sorry faces. i was known as the friend of the girl who committed suicide. she would now be always remembered as the fallen ones, and i was the hero who failed to save her. when the truth is, she was the victim and i was the unsung villain.
ok so, i rewrite back my spm's essay as soon as i came back home. i don't know if this is the same exact as the one that i wrote during spm. but this is what was it as i can recall. so yeah. heh. bye.
Carpe Librum,
L.
Labels: my writings
24. MASQUERADE.
written on Saturday, February 7, 2015 @ 9:35 PM
Stella stared at her laptop’s screen for about 2 minutes. She then hovered the cursor to the “Buy” button and clicked it without hesitation. She waited for the page to load. After making sure her purchase succeeded, she turned off the laptop and threw herself to bed. Her mind wandered off as always. The package will arrive tomorrow, at least that was what the seller guaranteed. She wondered if anybody has ever done the same. A thousand of questions popped up into her mind. ‘What if somebody knows?’ ‘Will it make a change?’ ‘Have I done the right thing?’ A few more questions came into her mind until a dream started to occur. She then fell soundly asleep.
The next day, Stella woke up to a soft knock on her door. “Uhh, come in,” she mumbled. A tall, beautiful, middle-aged lady came in to her room. “What is it, mum?” she questioned sleepily. Her mum then handed her a package and suddenly, she was wide awake. She snatched the package greedily, could not wait another minute to open it, but then she remembered that her mum was still in the room. “Do you mind, mum?” She gave a her the soft and sweet smile, the same one that Stella inherited from her mum, and walked out of the room. After making sure that her mum was not peeping, she opened the package. Not a while after that, a grey-coloured mask with a little touch of blue, exactly the same as she saw it online last night, appeared into her sight. She carefully took it out of the plastic, and began to wear it.
Keith’s eyes wandered off to the crowd. As always, he looked for the same thing, though he always got the same result. Instead, his eyes glued to his reflection in the glass. A light yellow-coloured mask, the same as everyone else’s in school. Everyone wore different coloured mask to show their personality. Red represents courageous, gold represents wealth, green represents well-being, and light yellow represents joyful. Each colour has their own representatives. Well, even colour has its dark sides. People in school rarely to be found in a grey or black mask because grey represents mentally ill, or depressed. Meanwhile black represents death.
He felt a pat on his shoulder, he turned around. He smiled instantly after he saw his friends. But his attention was attracted by a glimpse of a grey colour, which he rarely saw. His friend said something but he could not listen to any of it.
“Excuse me,” he said as he pushed a girl out of his way. But he failed to trail it. The grey colour went out of his sight. He let out a grunt of frustration. He turned around to his friend. “Dude, what’s happening?” He just ignored the question and rushed to his locker. As he was picking up his book, the bell rang. His friends started to approach him, but he quickly walked away from them and went straight off to Math class.
Keith could not pay his attention fully to the class. He kept thinking. Who was so brave to wear their emotion publicly? Even Keith did not have the guts to do the same. The same question has been inside his mind until lunch time. He knew that he should find that dauntless person. As soon as he stepped outside of the classroom, his eyes started to do as the brain told. To find the grey-coloured masked person.
Probably that day was his lucky day because he caught the person, a girl who wore the grey-coloured mask, walking past in front of him. He has the urge to stop the girl, but he decided to follow the girl instead. Keith let out a sigh of relief. His brain has already prepared a few question he was going to ask to that girl. He rehearsed it inside his head.
Without realising that the girl stopped walking in the middle of the way to cafeteria, Keith accidentally hit her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were there,” Keith apologised to her. “That’s alright, nobody does,” the girl looked into Keith’s eyes and smiled. He could feel a hit of sensation. The smile was so familiar to him, just like the one that usually did whenever he was with his friends.
“I’m sorry to ask this, but are you really depressed?” Keith realised that he should not really ask that. He was ready to take his word back when he saw the girl’s expression went puzzled. “Why do you ask?” the girl then questioned him. Keith looked around to make sure his friends were not anywhere closer than them. He grabbed the girl’s hand and led her to the library because that was the closest he could get. They went to the back shelves.
After Keith assured that nobody was eavesdropping, he glared at the girl for a while. He then took off the light yellow-coloured mask, revealing the same kind of mask as the girl wore. A grey with a little touch of blue-coloured mask. The girl gasped as if she was taking her last breath that she could get into her lungs. “I know, I have been hiding this for so long. Please don’t tell this to anyone. This is a secret between us,” he uttered under his breath. The girl was still speechless. She shook her head, “But you don’t know me. How can you trust me?”
Keith began to tremble, he was on the verge of breaking down. He realised that he has made a perilous step. Suddenly, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder, “Hey, don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. You can trust me.” The girl handed out a tissue to him. “I’m Stella by the way.” she stated. Keith exhaled, picking back up the courage to talk without stuttering, “Keith.” he faked a smile.
Stella recalled the situation that happened two weeks before, during lunch at school. She looked at the mirror and examined every part of her face. She has a really clear and glowing face. But she did not know what beautiful really looked like. Because she has never seen an unmasked person all her life. She was not born with a mask. She was always been the odd one in the family and hated it. People always gave her the skeptical look like she was an outcast. She gazed at the mask that she bought the night before the incident happened. She thought it was a splendid idea so she could fit in with others. She chose grey, not like she suffered depression or anything. Probably because she has been longing for the attention since she was little. Her vision has been playing the same thing all over again. When Keith started to reveal his true colour.
As she came out from the school by the next day, she could see Keith was waiting for her. After the incident, Keith wore his true colour to school. Ever since the day he started to wear it, his friends would not come any nearer. Stella felt the guilt started to grow bigger each day. Keith gave her the same smile everyday as she approached him. “So where are we going?” Stella asked. Everybody was giving them the unpleasant look.
“Why don’t we go to the old building?” Stella agreed, could not wait any longer with the stares that they received. The sky began to show the sign that it was going to rain. The sun started to hide behind the clouds. Not a while after that, a few droplets started to fall and began to drizzle. They walked swiftly and finally managed to get to the building before the rain started to pour heavily.
The tapping sound occurred from the rain echoed throughout the angle of the building. She took a glance at Keith who was looking at her. “What?” questioned Stella who was shivering. “Nothing, it’s just...” Keith shook his head, letting the beads of water spat from his hair. “I feel like I’m fading. Like,” “What do you mean?” Stella asked before Keith could continue.
“I don’t know, lately my depression has become worse. I couldn’t eat for days. I feel numb throughout the night. I couldn’t sleep. I feel like I shouldn’t wear my true colour in the first place,” Keith started to sob. “With all of my friends started to avoid me. It’s not like having a mental disorder is what I wanted.” As always, Stella couldn’t find words to comfort Keith. She was always bad at this. She has no idea how to make Keith feels better because she wasn’t depressed. She did not know what having a depression felt like. All she could do right now was holding Keith the same way her mum held her when she was little, when people were teasing her for not having a mask.
“Keith, you are strong. Ever since the first day I saw you smiled in that grey mask. You are brave, Keith. You have shown to your friends who you really are.” as Stella was saying this, she could feel that her mask was slipping.
The moment Keith started to move, she began to panic. As Keith looked her in the eyes, the mask fell. Her heart pounded so loudly, she could even hear it. Her true self has been revealed. Needless to say, the reaction that she got from Keith. Keith’s eyes were widely opened as though it could fall out of his head. Keith uttered out of disbelief but she could not hear it because of the sound of the rain hitting the roof. “Wha-? After all this time? You have been hiding under that mask?” Stella tried to reach him but he moved away from her. “I’m sorry, Keith. I’m sorry. I have never had a mask. I’m sorry... I,” “BUT YOU COULD HAVE CHOSEN OTHER MASK. WHY BLUE? Why? Why depression?” Keith interrupted in the middle of her explanation.
“because... because I have been longing to become in the centre of attention. I just want people to feel sorry for me.” exclaimed Stella, trying to fight the sound of thunder. Stella could see the hurt in Keith face. “Do you think by living in depression, in any mental illness, people will feel sorry for you? They won’t. Haven’t you see the disgust in people’s faces when they saw us? Mental illness is like a curse. People won’t treat us the same as they treat people who suffer cancer. All they would say is ‘Get over it. It’s just depression. What could be worse than that?’ EVERYTHING.” Keith screamed out the truth.
“You feel like you are trapped in your own mind, your own body. Nowhere to escape, nowhere to bound. Whenever you try to recover, you will always relapse. Just like a rubber band. No matter how far you go, or how far you stretch, you will get back to the same place. It will get you nowhere.” Keith sobbed. His face was wet from the mix of tears and raindrops.
Nobody has ever tell the truth to her. She was being selfish. She could see the disgust in Keith’s face. “I’m sorry, Keith,” she tried to apologise but the words seemed to stuck in her throat. Abruptly, Keith fell onto his knees. His mask has turned to black. Stella felt a stab of knife went through her heart. I killed him, she thought. Stella rushed to him and tried to reach him, but he has become a wisp of air. Stella body started to filled with fear. Fear of losing Keith. Two weeks felt like two decades. Like they have known for ever.
“Don’t wear that mask, Stella. You’re beautiful.”
Keith has blended in with the wall. Just a blink of an eye, he was gone. The only thing left was his mask.“KEITH!” Stella cried. She screamed with all her heart. She knelt down to the floor and sobbed. Stella laid on the ground, she cried and cried and cried until her eyes could not produce tears any longer. Her clothes was soaked with water from the puddle. Not sure whether from the rain or her tears.
She knew it all along that Keith’s mask was slowly turning into dark grey. She realised it, but she chose to ignore it. She was just a narcissist. If only she could rewind the time, but that was the problem. She could not. You cannot change the nature. But maybe the nature could change her.
Stella got off the ground and took the masks. She started to walk slowly to Keith house. She left his mask at the front door. The only thing that she could hear was the last thing ever that Keith has said to her. Her steps stopped when she saw her reflection in the puddle. She took a last glance at her mask. I don’t need a masquerade any longer, she whispered as she threw the mask. She knew that she has to be what she was born as. She did not need a mask because that was her true self. So what if she is not like the others? She was not an outcast. Unique, that was what she meant to be. Ever since that day, she confidently walked through the crowd, unmasked.
HEY GUYS. so yeah. i know i've promised you the short fanfic but i just couldn't get it done. and i started a new short story instead lol so yeah the mask thing is kinda new to me hahaha also i feel like this one is shorter than usual. i hope you like it. and apologies to all the error. heheheh. love you. thanks for reading. x
Carpe Librum,
L.
photo credits to WeHeartIt. horribly edited by me.
Labels: life, my writings, short stories
23. Poetry #1
written on Tuesday, February 3, 2015 @ 10:13 PM
little do you know, how i'm breaking while you fall asleep?
i am wide awake, staring at the ceiling, burning holes through them. my eyes linger closely on the cracks while i hear my heart is slowly breaking, close to crushing, to crying. as the breaking does its job, the numb feeling that i feel in my skin slowly increases.
little do you know, i'm still haunted by the memories?
in my mind, those memories we have created together wouldn't stop telling me that i miss you like hell has been opened again. but the voices in my head, oh how they sound like you, paraphrasing the last word you ever said to me, giving the chills down my spine, the same feeling that i got when i first heard it. it's echoing in every parts of me.
little do you know, i'm trying to pick myself up, piece by piece?
from the heart, now i can feel it starts to breaking in my bones, in my skins, in every places that your hands have ever been. i'm screaming so loud, yelling “HELP ME, I'M SHATTERING,” so very loud, but you still can't hear me. because your screaming voice in mine has overshadowed my own.
i loved you but you break me
—
little do you know, i know you're hurt while i'm sound asleep?
i saw your crying face, flashing in my vision every time i close my eyes. the uneasiness and the guilts are conquering me inside and out. and now i can feel the cut is getting deeper each time i try to move. it almost feel like a stab.
little do you know, all my mistakes are slowly drowning me?
i have made you cry for me, even bleed for me. and all the tears and blood are because of me. now they have created a sea inside, slowly but surely is raising up. i can barely breathe. so i gasped. motionlessly sinking at the bottom of my own fault.
little do you know, i'm trying to make it better, piece by piece?
have you not yet realise that i'm saving you? you could've died if you stayed longer. now i'm putting back together the broken pieces of you. i'm filled with the cuts, i deserve it. despite of what have i done, the cuts aren't enough. my love, please don't come near me. so then i'll be missing you, so i can slowly die for what i did to you.
i loved you so i break you
helloooooooo guysssss. hehehe. i haven't post quite awhile (at least for me). sorry, but i've been quite busy. furthermore, i don't know what should i post. i wanted to do a january favourite but idk what mine was hahaha (i'll try to recall). ALSO, i can't assure you when will i post the short fanfiction because i havn't continued writing it yet. i already have the idea for the ending. i just really need to work for it. so in the meantime, i create a poem which i rarely do. so if i have any error, please forgive me. this poem is inspired by a song, Little Do You Know - Alex and Sierra. i know it's like freaking LONG, but bear with me :p i hope you like it ♥
Carpe Librum,
L.
Labels: feelings, life, my writings, poem, poetry, song, writings
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Poetry - "screams left unheard."
written on Friday, April 29, 2016 @ 9:30 PM ✈
3/4/2016 — Sunday.
we scream louder than the thunder
left us with a burning throat
the truth is, once we've settled down;
none of our voices were being heard.
tears fall down like a heavy downpour,
hidden sobs shake our rusty old lungs.
when the hand reaches to wipe it all off,
the tears were never there;
only the fresh scars that stung.
people watch; but what do they see?
“we're here and so do we care.”
but how much do they really mean?
they all hand us a diamond
that were mistaken for a glass
when they have seen the mess that
they all caused,
they flee away, at last.
how many times, sweetheart,
tell me, how many?
you looked into their eyes
with yours that scream “save me!”
with a smile as sweet as honey,
for they never truly see,
how much you are breaking
holding yourself from drowning
in the depth of sorrow's sea.
—L.D
accidentally forgotten this one. ugh.
Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "darkness comes to visit."
written on @ 9:20 PM ✈
29/4/2016 — Friday.
you said that,
everything will be okay in the end.
but mum, why didn't you tell me?
a few of couple burns later,
a little now and a little then,
the sparks of fire will bring back
those burning sensation.
although the matches were never lit
and the flames were never burned.
just the nostalgic and traumatic experience.
you told me about the ending,
“everything will be alright, dear!”
but dad, what about the rising plot
and the climax before we hit the
dead end of the road?
leaving me feeling like i am dead.
because never once you told me that
when i put others as my happiness,
that's how i fall into self-destruction.
so maybe alright is not enough for me
when i have been crushed into dust
and blended in with the poisonous air.
the teachers never told me that
the moment i reached the recovering point,
it will never be the last i will get recovered.
because hey, a few relapses wouldn't hurt.
the crunching bones from my spine
echoed for lying too long on the bed,
when i'm thinking about the boy in my class
who vowed to never leave me
and solemnly swore that he will love
every inch of me and my darkness,
but ended up leaving me as soon as he bleed
when his gentle hands touched my sharp demon-like claws.
so, i covered myself with the fur
from the beast that i can never kill
because it has forever lived
underneath my flesh, bone and skin.
the darkness has been inside for so long
that it feels like home when it comes
to visit me, when they heard every lies
that i said when people ask me,
"how are you?"
this is a battle cry.
i repeat, this is a battle cry.
the pain that comes and goes frequently
never truly left me alone
even when, even when i feel better
the bitter are bothered by seeing
my faux smile and forced laughter.
because it knows for a fact that
i am never truly healed,
i just left the scars
untouched, untreated, unstitched.
so when it pokes me in the wound,
i fall into my knees,
begging with a plea to never come back
and to please leave me in peace.
with trembling hands, i twist the knob
to let the demons in and decided that
it could stay for another few months
until i finally feel that i deserve
a whole another journey of recovery.
but i am wrong, of course.
because this time, i am fatigued
with all the long pauses and breaks
before the ending comes.
so i just fell into the hole of giving up,
“hey, welcome, how may i help you?
drugs, blades, alcohol, punches,
or falling in love with the wrong person?”
and i choose with whichever
that can overlap my pain the best.
my thoughts are filled
with perhaps and maybes, that
just like when we miss the wrong people
every now and then,
we miss feeling the pain that burns.
maybe that's why, that's why
people don't let go of something that
breaks,
bruises,
wounds,
and scars them.
because holding on to pain feels
much less hurtful than
relapsing into the a whole new pain of
missing them again, and again, and again.
so, i quit reaching to the end.
and choose to stay at the pauses
with the pain instead.
—L.D., “darkness comes to visit.” Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "shaken misguided voices."
written on @ 9:13 PM ✈
28/4/2016 — Thursday.
shaking lungs, uneven heartbeat.
i breathe through all the dust,
gritting teeth out of the rust.
forced smile, awakened silence.
taking it in, as people pulling it out.
"i dare you, to look me in the eyes and say
that you are sick. you are fucking sick in
the brain that you don't make any sense
in this world, any longer."
i gave up.
i look away. because let's be real,
people always need an evidence
for every single thing in this mad world.
and i cannot fucking
take out my brain and heart
and show it to them how much it is
damaged, bruised, and wounded,
they'll laugh every time.
because if you cannot see it;
it was never really there, right?
"pull your shit together, hun."
i am indeed.
shaking, trying to get a grip
of all my broken pieces that are
slowly, but surely is falling apart.
as i hold another pieces,
the other one falls.
"why are you so lazy?
get out of your room."
i am not.
it just hurts every time i move.
do you even understand at all?
the sharp edges scratch me
and cut me open till i bleed.
bleed, and bleed, and bleed away.
wishing that i can bleed the demons out,
but i lose my sanity a lot more
than the blood that bleed from
the unstitched battle scars.
it is hard to make people believe,
when they do not fucking care
in the very first place, is it not?
—L.D. Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "the phases of loving you."
written on @ 9:11 PM ✈
26/4/2016 — Tuesday.
i have never been in love with a moon
more than i do right now
but how did i fail to remember that
there are phases of moon
and when the time has come,
the moon will be completely gone
from the night sky
and all that's there is just myself,
sitting alone in the darkness
with the sound of midnight's silence.
the phases of moon goes from
full moon to half moon;
and half moon to crescent
into a complete darkness.
leaving me with all that familiar feelings;
the same as how your love towards me
fades away bit by bit.
and when it is the time of the month,
the feeling that was there is all gone.
so is there any possibilities
for me to run away from you,
thinking that i've gone far enough?
because don't you remember
that when we were in single-number age,
we always thought that the moon
is following us everywhere we go?
and i ended up running in circles,
as i thought that i have run far enough
i am actually closer to the starting line
than i ever did before.
or maybe i'm just running in denial
because i never want to be
far away from the presence of the moon
and never have i ever want to
lose my sight away from you.
—L.D., "so, please, dear moon, forget to fall down from the sky." Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "shades of paint on my skin."
written on @ 9:08 PM ✈
6/4/2016 — Wednesday.
i fell in love with a painter.
at first, he drew me,
but then, he drew all over me.
red splashes all over when
he splats the paint away.
the purple began to appear,
when i left it couple of days.
black and blue & black and blue,
i'm confused if that's the feeling
that i'm feeling
or is that the colours that i see
up under my pale skin.
—L.D., “he left me with colours that nobody else can see with their bare eyes.” Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "fictional cliches."
written on @ 9:04 PM ✈
2/4/2016 — Saturday.
if you were to be a fictional character; you'd be the one that makes everyone happy in spite of getting hurt. you'd be the one who will carve a smile on everyone's faces even if you have to carve your own skin. you'd be the one who thought that your existence doesn't really matter when your companion can be convenient to some. you'd be the one with the blue eyes although the actual colour is dark brown; whose smile fakes a yellow bright sun. you would be all these things in the morning. but when the sky darkens, and clock struck past 12, you shifted into someone you knew. someone you hide under your skin, scared of showing your own scars. people talk, people see; but do they ever really speak to you and watch closely? deep within, you have been hurt numerous times but you played that happy character so well, that even you started to believe it. you keep yourself busy by making someone else happy, when someone else is watching you from afar on how you try to mend your broken heart. you'd be the one with thoughts that will never shut up when you are on your own. you think, you wait, but for what it costs, you don't know what's actually holding you back in mind. you'd be the one that never see their own beauty, but appreciate others tremendously. if you were to be written as a fictional character; i'd fall in love with you deeply.
—L.D Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
Poetry - "the moon and the speck of dust."
written on @ 8:59 PM ✈
30/3/2016 — Wednesday.
how screwed am i;
when i let my curtains down at night
just so that i can see the moonlight
peaks in through my window
every now and every then?
how screwed am i;
when i feel like i don't mind
a little light from the moon
when i used to the darkness
for so long that i forgot
how beautiful the moon is?
how screwed am i;
that i can't wait for the day to end
because i have been longing
for the night sky and the moonlight
to keep me company for when
i can't sleep at night?
all of my past lovers are the stars
but you know what the people say,
“the stars are dead but the light is not,”
that's why the memories still haunt me
but your presence lights up
the darkness inside of me
and make me forget how broken
was i before you came.
so, sweetheart, tell me how screwed am i;
when i don't care if i'm screwed
to be in love with the moon that much
to be in love with the moon, that is you.
—L.D “so, honey, if you are the moon, i don't care how screwed am i as the gravity has chosen us to fall for each other.” Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
51. Poetry #8 (part 2)
written on Wednesday, February 10, 2016 @ 5:00 PM ✈
pt. II – how the breaker breaks the broken.
i'm telling you, honey. i'm telling you.
maybe you just turn your back to me,
have yet to move anywhere.
or that you just cover your wounds,
with a bandaid that keeps falling off.
because as soon as our eyes meet,
your heart finds its way back to me,
and your wounds were opened, unhealed.
i'm telling you, sweetheart. i'm telling you.
maybe you did build the highest wall
and burn all the bridges down.
but you threw the keys away,
leaving the front door unlocked.
so when i come back knocking,
you will open the door at ease.
i'm telling you, my love. i'm telling you.
maybe it's not the matter of time
for the wounds to heal nor
how far you've tried to run away from me,
you keep coming back to the same spot,
where you started.
because, my dear,
maybe all it take was the fact that
i have been there before,
that i know how to win your heart back.
maybe all it take was for me to
hit the right spot to lead me back
to the right place.
because, maybe
all it take was the memories
that was ever there and never left.
because you are too afraid to forget.
—L.D “the crack on your heart leaves a space for me to come and go.”
Seize The Words,
L.
Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
50. Poetry #7 (part 1)
written on Monday, February 8, 2016 @ 5:00 PM ✈
pt. I – tell me how do you break the broken.
tell me, honey. tell me.
how can i move on from you
and be be completely healed from the wound,
but the second our eyes collide,
the stars come back aligned.
tell me, sweetheart. tell me.
how can i build the highest wall
and burn all the bridges down
but as soon as you knock on my door,
i let you in every single time.
tell me, my love. tell me.
how can i let my guards down
when you were right in front of me,
standing. just standing.
not even talking to me.
not even looking at me.
yet, i still fall for you again.
like you're the gravity, pulling me down
to the surface of the Earth.
—L.D “how can i love you again when you were the reason to the crack on my heart?”
second part of the poetry will be posted this Wednesday.
Writer's Block sucks,
L.
Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
#37 - Poetry #6
written on Thursday, December 17, 2015 @ 1:07 AM ✈
20/11/2015 — Friday.
i hand you a white blank canvas
to let you paint me with colours
the way you want to look at me
in the way that i will capture your attention
and be mesmerised by my beauty
that you have created all over me.
you splashed me with red,
to symbolise our fiery love.
you splashed me with blue,
to symbolise the calmness of our love,
you splashed me with black,
to symbolise our mysterious love.
what you painted was a beauty
but everyone said it was a mess
but my love towards you
was strong enough to shield
the talks from coming in
i should have listened to them
i should have seen it through their eyes
the soon you left.
the red becomes my anger;
the blue becomes my melancholia;
the black becomes my soul.
maybe that was what you were trying to preach
that i was the definition of a walking disaster
i thought i knew what the meaning behind all of the colours that you used.
but i don't.
that was my mistake for letting you build me
and i should have known right from the start
that the hand that stroke the paintbrush on the canvas,
will be the same hand that will burn me down in flames
when you have found another pretty picture
to look at other than me.
—L.D "red, blue, and black are not my favourite colours anymore.”
Carpe Librum,
L.
Labels: my writings, poem, poetry, writings
#32 - MY SPM'S NARRATIVE ESSAY
written on Sunday, December 13, 2015 @ 11:36 PM ✈
everybody said that the plan would never work. it was far too risky. i mean, how can people expect her to be safe after her attempt of saving me? it took a mountain of courage for her to stand by my side while i was standing on the edge of the building. the memory was still fresh in my mind. i could even remember the smell of the city. it was the smell of people burning the leaves mixed with trash. it was horrid. like it was a sign that my existence was up to no good.
we have been friends ever since we were in our mothers' wombs. i knew her even before she knew herself. i had always admired her beauty. the inner and the outer. i always thought that maybe even without her beautiful, complexion skin, she would still be a beautiful walking skeleton.
the first day of fall was the day when everything was falling apart. everything went pale. i felt worthless. a few questions popped into my head. why was i still here? what good will it bring to me? what good will I bring to people? the answer for all of the questions was suicide. i wished i had a better reason to end my life, like my father abused me or i was bullied. however, i did not have the reason to feel this way. i had a happy family and they all loved me. maybe that's why i had the tendencies to kill myself. i felt like i was not meant to be in the perfect picture of a happy family.
gratitude was a strong feeling that i felt to have her as my friend. she was always there to brighten up my day when the sun was hiding behind the dark clouds of thoughts of mine. although, the feeling did not last longer than i intended it to be. as soon as she went home, i began to plan on how to end my life. i even listed up the pros and cons. like what would happen after that. i used to be scared of dying but i could fear death no longer. i had died a thousand times.
i chose the day of Halloween so i could disguise myself as an ecstatic girl. or an angel. who would have thought? i decide to jump off of a building because the last thing that i wanted to do before i die was flying. i climbed up the stairs with my angel-like costume. the adrenaline rushed to my whole body. my heart was leaped with enjoyment but my legs were quaking.
i did not acknowledge that somebody was following me all along. too excited, i guess? i could feel a hand laid on my shoulder. i instantly recognised whose hand was it. i was right. it was her. the amount of guilt that i felt was unbearable.
"why are you doing this?" she asked me a question which i have the answer to. loads, even. somehow the words just could not get out of my mouth. like it was pulling me back up in my throat.
"you don't deserve this, Brooke. you deserve to live." tears started to roll down her cheeks. "hey, i got nothing to lose. nobody knows my name. i got nothing to gain neither. the day doesn't seem to change. it just happen to be stormy all year round."
"i cannot be all that you need me to be, Becky. we have got good things going. we even have some promises to keep. but my addiction it can be such a detriment," i said simultaneously let out a breath that i did not realise i was holding back. "but you don't deserve this." she sobbed. she then looked at me with her beautiful emerald green eyes.
she was right. i did not deserve this. my mind flashed back to when i was staring at my crush like i wanted to be stared back by him. he did. it just happened to be that he was not staring at me. who would want to gaze at a timid, shy girl who basically lived under her hoodie when she was standing right beside her exquisite, tall, Victoria's Secret model-like friend? as always, Becky was the one who got everyone's attention.
i finally realised that she was the reason that i want to kill myself. she had always got everyone's attention. she was this smart, intelligent, beautiful, perfect little American sweetheart and i was this shy, timid, introverted American psychopath.
"you were right, i don't deserve this." she began to wrap her arms around me. "but you do." i pushed her off the building. she gave me a betrayed look on her face before she fell. her screams echoed throughout the whole town. i looked at her as she was falling. just like how she just looked at me even when she knew i was falling apart.
people often forgot that the devil was once God's favourite. the devil was once an angel. the devil was the fallen angel. just like me, i was angel for halloween but it was all a disguise.
she should have expected what she was going to get when she took the risk. i finally got everyone's attention. everyone now would look at me with their sorry faces. i was known as the friend of the girl who committed suicide. she would now be always remembered as the fallen ones, and i was the hero who failed to save her. when the truth is, she was the victim and i was the unsung villain.
ok so, i rewrite back my spm's essay as soon as i came back home. i don't know if this is the same exact as the one that i wrote during spm. but this is what was it as i can recall. so yeah. heh. bye.
Carpe Librum,
L.
Labels: my writings
24. MASQUERADE.
written on Saturday, February 7, 2015 @ 9:35 PM ✈
Stella stared at her laptop’s screen for about 2 minutes. She then hovered the cursor to the “Buy” button and clicked it without hesitation. She waited for the page to load. After making sure her purchase succeeded, she turned off the laptop and threw herself to bed. Her mind wandered off as always. The package will arrive tomorrow, at least that was what the seller guaranteed. She wondered if anybody has ever done the same. A thousand of questions popped up into her mind. ‘What if somebody knows?’ ‘Will it make a change?’ ‘Have I done the right thing?’ A few more questions came into her mind until a dream started to occur. She then fell soundly asleep.
The next day, Stella woke up to a soft knock on her door. “Uhh, come in,” she mumbled. A tall, beautiful, middle-aged lady came in to her room. “What is it, mum?” she questioned sleepily. Her mum then handed her a package and suddenly, she was wide awake. She snatched the package greedily, could not wait another minute to open it, but then she remembered that her mum was still in the room. “Do you mind, mum?” She gave a her the soft and sweet smile, the same one that Stella inherited from her mum, and walked out of the room. After making sure that her mum was not peeping, she opened the package. Not a while after that, a grey-coloured mask with a little touch of blue, exactly the same as she saw it online last night, appeared into her sight. She carefully took it out of the plastic, and began to wear it.
Keith’s eyes wandered off to the crowd. As always, he looked for the same thing, though he always got the same result. Instead, his eyes glued to his reflection in the glass. A light yellow-coloured mask, the same as everyone else’s in school. Everyone wore different coloured mask to show their personality. Red represents courageous, gold represents wealth, green represents well-being, and light yellow represents joyful. Each colour has their own representatives. Well, even colour has its dark sides. People in school rarely to be found in a grey or black mask because grey represents mentally ill, or depressed. Meanwhile black represents death.
He felt a pat on his shoulder, he turned around. He smiled instantly after he saw his friends. But his attention was attracted by a glimpse of a grey colour, which he rarely saw. His friend said something but he could not listen to any of it.
“Excuse me,” he said as he pushed a girl out of his way. But he failed to trail it. The grey colour went out of his sight. He let out a grunt of frustration. He turned around to his friend. “Dude, what’s happening?” He just ignored the question and rushed to his locker. As he was picking up his book, the bell rang. His friends started to approach him, but he quickly walked away from them and went straight off to Math class.
Keith could not pay his attention fully to the class. He kept thinking. Who was so brave to wear their emotion publicly? Even Keith did not have the guts to do the same. The same question has been inside his mind until lunch time. He knew that he should find that dauntless person. As soon as he stepped outside of the classroom, his eyes started to do as the brain told. To find the grey-coloured masked person.
Probably that day was his lucky day because he caught the person, a girl who wore the grey-coloured mask, walking past in front of him. He has the urge to stop the girl, but he decided to follow the girl instead. Keith let out a sigh of relief. His brain has already prepared a few question he was going to ask to that girl. He rehearsed it inside his head.
Without realising that the girl stopped walking in the middle of the way to cafeteria, Keith accidentally hit her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were there,” Keith apologised to her. “That’s alright, nobody does,” the girl looked into Keith’s eyes and smiled. He could feel a hit of sensation. The smile was so familiar to him, just like the one that usually did whenever he was with his friends.
“I’m sorry to ask this, but are you really depressed?” Keith realised that he should not really ask that. He was ready to take his word back when he saw the girl’s expression went puzzled. “Why do you ask?” the girl then questioned him. Keith looked around to make sure his friends were not anywhere closer than them. He grabbed the girl’s hand and led her to the library because that was the closest he could get. They went to the back shelves.
After Keith assured that nobody was eavesdropping, he glared at the girl for a while. He then took off the light yellow-coloured mask, revealing the same kind of mask as the girl wore. A grey with a little touch of blue-coloured mask. The girl gasped as if she was taking her last breath that she could get into her lungs. “I know, I have been hiding this for so long. Please don’t tell this to anyone. This is a secret between us,” he uttered under his breath. The girl was still speechless. She shook her head, “But you don’t know me. How can you trust me?”
Keith began to tremble, he was on the verge of breaking down. He realised that he has made a perilous step. Suddenly, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder, “Hey, don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. You can trust me.” The girl handed out a tissue to him. “I’m Stella by the way.” she stated. Keith exhaled, picking back up the courage to talk without stuttering, “Keith.” he faked a smile.
Stella recalled the situation that happened two weeks before, during lunch at school. She looked at the mirror and examined every part of her face. She has a really clear and glowing face. But she did not know what beautiful really looked like. Because she has never seen an unmasked person all her life. She was not born with a mask. She was always been the odd one in the family and hated it. People always gave her the skeptical look like she was an outcast. She gazed at the mask that she bought the night before the incident happened. She thought it was a splendid idea so she could fit in with others. She chose grey, not like she suffered depression or anything. Probably because she has been longing for the attention since she was little. Her vision has been playing the same thing all over again. When Keith started to reveal his true colour.
As she came out from the school by the next day, she could see Keith was waiting for her. After the incident, Keith wore his true colour to school. Ever since the day he started to wear it, his friends would not come any nearer. Stella felt the guilt started to grow bigger each day. Keith gave her the same smile everyday as she approached him. “So where are we going?” Stella asked. Everybody was giving them the unpleasant look.
“Why don’t we go to the old building?” Stella agreed, could not wait any longer with the stares that they received. The sky began to show the sign that it was going to rain. The sun started to hide behind the clouds. Not a while after that, a few droplets started to fall and began to drizzle. They walked swiftly and finally managed to get to the building before the rain started to pour heavily.
The tapping sound occurred from the rain echoed throughout the angle of the building. She took a glance at Keith who was looking at her. “What?” questioned Stella who was shivering. “Nothing, it’s just...” Keith shook his head, letting the beads of water spat from his hair. “I feel like I’m fading. Like,” “What do you mean?” Stella asked before Keith could continue.
“I don’t know, lately my depression has become worse. I couldn’t eat for days. I feel numb throughout the night. I couldn’t sleep. I feel like I shouldn’t wear my true colour in the first place,” Keith started to sob. “With all of my friends started to avoid me. It’s not like having a mental disorder is what I wanted.” As always, Stella couldn’t find words to comfort Keith. She was always bad at this. She has no idea how to make Keith feels better because she wasn’t depressed. She did not know what having a depression felt like. All she could do right now was holding Keith the same way her mum held her when she was little, when people were teasing her for not having a mask.
“Keith, you are strong. Ever since the first day I saw you smiled in that grey mask. You are brave, Keith. You have shown to your friends who you really are.” as Stella was saying this, she could feel that her mask was slipping.
The moment Keith started to move, she began to panic. As Keith looked her in the eyes, the mask fell. Her heart pounded so loudly, she could even hear it. Her true self has been revealed. Needless to say, the reaction that she got from Keith. Keith’s eyes were widely opened as though it could fall out of his head. Keith uttered out of disbelief but she could not hear it because of the sound of the rain hitting the roof. “Wha-? After all this time? You have been hiding under that mask?” Stella tried to reach him but he moved away from her. “I’m sorry, Keith. I’m sorry. I have never had a mask. I’m sorry... I,” “BUT YOU COULD HAVE CHOSEN OTHER MASK. WHY BLUE? Why? Why depression?” Keith interrupted in the middle of her explanation.
“because... because I have been longing to become in the centre of attention. I just want people to feel sorry for me.” exclaimed Stella, trying to fight the sound of thunder. Stella could see the hurt in Keith face. “Do you think by living in depression, in any mental illness, people will feel sorry for you? They won’t. Haven’t you see the disgust in people’s faces when they saw us? Mental illness is like a curse. People won’t treat us the same as they treat people who suffer cancer. All they would say is ‘Get over it. It’s just depression. What could be worse than that?’ EVERYTHING.” Keith screamed out the truth.
“You feel like you are trapped in your own mind, your own body. Nowhere to escape, nowhere to bound. Whenever you try to recover, you will always relapse. Just like a rubber band. No matter how far you go, or how far you stretch, you will get back to the same place. It will get you nowhere.” Keith sobbed. His face was wet from the mix of tears and raindrops.
Nobody has ever tell the truth to her. She was being selfish. She could see the disgust in Keith’s face. “I’m sorry, Keith,” she tried to apologise but the words seemed to stuck in her throat. Abruptly, Keith fell onto his knees. His mask has turned to black. Stella felt a stab of knife went through her heart. I killed him, she thought. Stella rushed to him and tried to reach him, but he has become a wisp of air. Stella body started to filled with fear. Fear of losing Keith. Two weeks felt like two decades. Like they have known for ever.
“Don’t wear that mask, Stella. You’re beautiful.”
Keith has blended in with the wall. Just a blink of an eye, he was gone. The only thing left was his mask.“KEITH!” Stella cried. She screamed with all her heart. She knelt down to the floor and sobbed. Stella laid on the ground, she cried and cried and cried until her eyes could not produce tears any longer. Her clothes was soaked with water from the puddle. Not sure whether from the rain or her tears.
She knew it all along that Keith’s mask was slowly turning into dark grey. She realised it, but she chose to ignore it. She was just a narcissist. If only she could rewind the time, but that was the problem. She could not. You cannot change the nature. But maybe the nature could change her.
Stella got off the ground and took the masks. She started to walk slowly to Keith house. She left his mask at the front door. The only thing that she could hear was the last thing ever that Keith has said to her. Her steps stopped when she saw her reflection in the puddle. She took a last glance at her mask. I don’t need a masquerade any longer, she whispered as she threw the mask. She knew that she has to be what she was born as. She did not need a mask because that was her true self. So what if she is not like the others? She was not an outcast. Unique, that was what she meant to be. Ever since that day, she confidently walked through the crowd, unmasked.
HEY GUYS. so yeah. i know i've promised you the short fanfic but i just couldn't get it done. and i started a new short story instead lol so yeah the mask thing is kinda new to me hahaha also i feel like this one is shorter than usual. i hope you like it. and apologies to all the error. heheheh. love you. thanks for reading. x
Carpe Librum,
L.
photo credits to WeHeartIt. horribly edited by me.
Labels: life, my writings, short stories
23. Poetry #1
written on Tuesday, February 3, 2015 @ 10:13 PM ✈
little do you know, how i'm breaking while you fall asleep?
i am wide awake, staring at the ceiling, burning holes through them. my eyes linger closely on the cracks while i hear my heart is slowly breaking, close to crushing, to crying. as the breaking does its job, the numb feeling that i feel in my skin slowly increases.
little do you know, i'm still haunted by the memories?
in my mind, those memories we have created together wouldn't stop telling me that i miss you like hell has been opened again. but the voices in my head, oh how they sound like you, paraphrasing the last word you ever said to me, giving the chills down my spine, the same feeling that i got when i first heard it. it's echoing in every parts of me.
little do you know, i'm trying to pick myself up, piece by piece?
from the heart, now i can feel it starts to breaking in my bones, in my skins, in every places that your hands have ever been. i'm screaming so loud, yelling “HELP ME, I'M SHATTERING,” so very loud, but you still can't hear me. because your screaming voice in mine has overshadowed my own.
i loved you but you break me
—
little do you know, i know you're hurt while i'm sound asleep?
i saw your crying face, flashing in my vision every time i close my eyes. the uneasiness and the guilts are conquering me inside and out. and now i can feel the cut is getting deeper each time i try to move. it almost feel like a stab.
little do you know, all my mistakes are slowly drowning me?
i have made you cry for me, even bleed for me. and all the tears and blood are because of me. now they have created a sea inside, slowly but surely is raising up. i can barely breathe. so i gasped. motionlessly sinking at the bottom of my own fault.
little do you know, i'm trying to make it better, piece by piece?
have you not yet realise that i'm saving you? you could've died if you stayed longer. now i'm putting back together the broken pieces of you. i'm filled with the cuts, i deserve it. despite of what have i done, the cuts aren't enough. my love, please don't come near me. so then i'll be missing you, so i can slowly die for what i did to you.
i loved you so i break you
helloooooooo guysssss. hehehe. i haven't post quite awhile (at least for me). sorry, but i've been quite busy. furthermore, i don't know what should i post. i wanted to do a january favourite but idk what mine was hahaha (i'll try to recall). ALSO, i can't assure you when will i post the short fanfiction because i havn't continued writing it yet. i already have the idea for the ending. i just really need to work for it. so in the meantime, i create a poem which i rarely do. so if i have any error, please forgive me. this poem is inspired by a song, Little Do You Know - Alex and Sierra. i know it's like freaking LONG, but bear with me :p i hope you like it ♥
Carpe Librum,
L.
Labels: feelings, life, my writings, poem, poetry, song, writings
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we live under the same sky
“To put away aimlessness and weakness, and to begin to think with purpose, is to enter the ranks of those strong ones who only recognize failure as one of the pathways to attainment; who make all conditions serve them, and who think strongly, attempt fearlessly, and accomplish masterfully.”
- James Allen Quotes
Sometimes I wonder how people see me and what they think of me. It scares me a bit, honestly. I am sure though, that what they think of me,
what they think my life is, is a complete misperception. I have always tried to show myself as a carefree person, as someone who wont get bothered
because of public judgements. I am sure my friend and family think there is nothing going wrong in my life, that I do not worry enough, that
I am always happy. And I am sure they probably somewhat hate me for it because, lets admit it, there is nothing worse than seeing someone
who is life seems so perfect while yours is a complete mess. Truth is, I have become an expert at pretending. I think we are all experts
or at least we are getting there.
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my sunshine
links exchanged opened! just tag me but link me first
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link
coming soon....
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