Dust

loneliness

as if two trains are running straight towards

each other and then, there’s nothing

nothing at all

no colliding, no sound, no music

my mind is empty

although i am breathing

i feel like crying

i feel nothingness so strongly

it begins to look like shapes

dark energy, dark matter

the cats can’t fill up all these empty spaces

in my room, the money certainly can’t make

anything better, maybe just a little bit

i wanna hide now

i wanna hide and cry my eyes out now

but still, i smile and laugh and take another

inhale as if that would remind me

i wasn’t made out of dust

and in the end, we all become what we’re born as

and turn to nothing once again.

t.l.

wishful thinking

i wish i was well-spoken

that i could tell the world about myself

without laughing at the things i couldn’t say

i wish i was more brave, more patient

that i didn’t wait out the storm

but set sail and move myself away from the trouble

i wish i was better at being myself

without feeling shame or guilt

i wish i could stop writing poems

about all these things in my head,

but actually do them.

i wish, for no more wishes.

t.l.

tricks

my poems are all wrong

i’m often sad for no reason

and no matter how much i looked at the Sun

i didn’t absorb its brightness

instead i got blinded by people’s positivity

every day i got up and prepared for a fight

when i wanted to cry i just practiced smiling instead

my mum said, a “resting sad face” isn’t a delight

now i’m used to moving two rows of teeth and making my eyes sparkle as i speak

if i could fool them, doesn’t that mean i succeed

in tricking myself into thinking i’m happy?

t.l.

please, tell me more tricks

i have none up my sleeves

Mannequin

someone told you that

you need to be more organized

more logical, put things in priority settings

get your life together

but,

without the messy thoughts

without the uncomfortable feelings

of not knowing how to feel

without the self-doubt and the insecurity

you won’t be you anymore

you’d be a put together mannequin

always smiling because they forget to design you otherwise.

t.l.

4 p.m. ride to feel alive

the sun was hiding behind that skyscraper

as you were slowly forgetting how to be happy

it was the 4pm ride to the other side of town

the wind was playing that sound

through your earphones again

white noise, somehow soothingly

it was a while

since you were out catching sunsets

you felt something lift up in your chest

and you started smiling

the freedom you tasted in the air

it was so real, at the same time surreal

you were alive then, in that moment

you were not riding the bike in the hectic city

with people trying to find a place to stand

a title to hold onto, a spouse to fill in the void

you were not comparing yourself to the past or the future

you. were. living.

time was an illusion and your pain was hallucination

you wish every moment could be like that moment

riding up the hill, accelerating and then

the sun hit your eyes and

you’re gasping for air again.

t.l.

forgetting how to be alive.

Maybe

Maybe it’s not too bad

Maybe it’s what you’ve wanted

Maybe you’re overthinking

Maybe you should be happy

Maybe this time it will be different

Maybe you’re just a spoiled little brat

Maybe you should just go for a run

Maybe you’re too oversensitive

Maybe it’s always you that is the problem

Maybe you should feel lucky

and not act like a ball of existential panic

Maybe, just maybe

something is wrong with you

when everything else is right.

t.l.

i want it all to stop

it’s all coming back

the sleepless nights

the crying in the middle of the day

the “i can’t do anything right”

the getting so lost in my damn mind

the wanting to die

the run-away

the anxious performer

the faking a smile

the “i am fine”

the “what i am doing here?”

the tears that kept falling

why can’t i make it stop?

like how i can’t stop the rain from pouring

the sun from shining and the birds from singing

i can’t suddenly stop myself from being

so sad all the fucking time.

t.l.

the demons are slowly creeping up on me

to tell me they have never left.

hiding

do you ever feel like

when things are up in the sky

you know you’re hiding something

deep down in the hollowed cave

the only truth that isn’t hard to say

that you are incapable of staying happy

you’re constantly scared of living

always on the verge of crying

when did you get so good at hiding?

even you can’t recognize yourself

this put together happy shell

inside there’s nothing left to tell.

t.l.