She huddled in the corner, with her arms wrapped around her knees.
She couldn’t see a thing.
Yet she felt it’s presence. Looming in the shadows of darkness.
She tried to control herself, tried to suppress the scream from escaping from her throat.
Blood pounded in her ears, and her heart raced.
It’s coming closer.
She started to shake uncontrollably, willing it to vanish in that instant.
But it continues to approach.
And then she saw it.
She saw the hunger in the blood-red eyes, the wild animal instinct in it’s irises.
Her eyes refused to shut, it’s as though fear had paralysed her completely.
And realisation hit her with a force.
I’m going to die.
20 August, 2008. poetry and stories. No Comments.
exhausted. stressed. and there’s an unexplainable weight in her heart.
crushing it down.
like a paperweight on a stack of trial papers.
like the roots of a mango tree bursting out of a pot.
even the air around her feels heavy.
to the point of suffocation.
13 August, 2008. emo, poetry and stories. 3 Comments.
At times I feel like I’m losing myself. Maybe it should be in past tense. I’ve lost “me”. Or the essence of who I am. I still look like myself, but inside, I think who I am has withered into nothingness. Like, shit, who’s this girl pretending to be me? My idiotic mind is like a constant blank. Sigh.
* * *
She gazed at her doll, when thoughts run in her head. It’s her favourite one, Valerie, the one with silky black hair which has been by her side for almost 5 years. She held it when she cried for the loss of her cat, she hugged it whenever nothing in the world appealed to her anymore. She was attached to it emotionally, since it was her only anchor. She never really had any real friends, always a loner since she was a child. She preferred her own company, she grew accustomed to solitary. She’d rather be alone than be emotionally vulnerable to others.
A few months back, she would have never even think of getting a new doll, of throwing Valerie away. But recently, a voice has been whispering in her mind, harbouring secret thoughts.
It’s something she had deprived herself of, since the day she made a decision to lock her heart behind closed doors. The risks, uncertainties and the twisted sense of satisfaction that could only be found when experiencing a whole new process of emotions.
Should she or should she not?
Reluctance held her back. She fears the uncertainty, yet has an unexplainable crave for it. It is the fear of losing something perfect, and the fear of plunging into a sea of unknown. What if she discovers that it is not what she wanted after all, that she had thrown away the most precious thing in her life because she wanted to have a taste of the unknown?
19 July, 2008. emo, poetry and stories. No Comments.
He looked at her with tears brimming in his eyes.
There was so much to tell her, yet he can’t.
He knew it was not he whom she love, it was the guy in the coffeeshop.
The body he took mercilessly, just so he could have a vacation in this foreign yet familiar place.
He’d have to leave her soon.
A part of him yearned to be selfish, and take her away with him.
But he knew that she would not be happy leading that life.
He carressed her delicate face with his hands, with a thousand voices telling him to leave her.
He fought with his conscience, because for once, he has the opportunity to love and to be loved.
Her eyes pleaded for him to stay, to not leave her side.
It torn him into pieces inside, looking a her like that.
She was the only one he loved and yet, it was wrong.
They don’t belong together.
* * *
It was a wonderful movie, so full of emotions.
And it’d make you appreciate life even more.
Not to mention, Brat Pitt is starring in it. Oh he was the perfect guy for Joe Black’s role.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!! He’s so hot!
*faints*
18 May, 2008. emo, poetry and stories. 2 Comments.
I wish things could be simpler.
Like 1 + 1 = 2.
But it’s human nature to complicate things eh?
They just cant seem to accept the simplicity and never fails to strive to instill complications.
I just wish I could live in my own little bubble.
* * *
He’s just a kid, what would he know?
I think I’ve lost a bit of respect for him.
Such mindset. I never knew.
13 May, 2008. emo, poetry and stories. 11 Comments.
