Wednesday, November 29
The air that billows and breathes,
the water that gurgles and sighs with relief,
the land that sits and waits.
I need to know the earth.
I need to witness it's unending beauty.
To hold in the grasp of my hand,
the shivering stalks of freshly plucked flowers.
To breathe through my nostrils,
the frigid cold air of high reaching mountains.
To drink with my lips,
the running waters of meandering rivers.
And to thread upon the ground, with knees worn and tired.
To witness the landscape change beneath my feet.
If you know the earth, you would know freedom.
You will notice that, they build you up,
just to tear you down.It's been pretty much book oogling and dreaded piano lessons these days. Boy, i need a job. I want a job but I've decided to let stupid JapanExchange past before I apply for any. Nic's just got a job at Warehouse (Marina). She was like, ' next time if u go to topshop and other uk shops, when u see the price tag, rmb to tuck it back in the clothes!' HAHAHAHAH. Hilarious. She apparently has to tuck them in for the customers every single time. So yeah, keep that in mind the next time you go shopping guys (:
It is beautiful poetry,
only if there is someone
reading it.
I realised this. And a lot of other things too.
It is a wonderful feast,
only if there is someone
to eat it.
Same premise. Same promise.
The entitlement to happiness. Is it mine?
Will I always be shunned and over looked?
I know God didn't grace me with the
perfection that comes so easily to others.
And I know I ought to try so much harder
instead of using flowery words all the time.
But I have never been a lady of action either.
A lot of times, I have ideas, that never materialize.
Or hopes, or aspirations, or visions of sorts.
But they never come to pass.
This grandeur that I delude myself with,
it is just me thinking out loud.
Heaven is a sorority.
And all the angels are jocks and frat boys.
And God likes to see me suffer.
The stranger told her to take his hand.
And it made a believer out of her.
This young, smooth skinned stranger
held a promise in his eyes.
And it glistened the way only stars could
on a badly lit night.
His voice trailed in her ears,
and his cologne lingered on in her nostrils.
She said, "this is what love must feel like".
The cold steel met her throat in a flash of brilliance.
It caught her unaware, mid-way in her stride to keep up.
And blood splurted everywhere, her hands clasped around her neck
trying to stem the flow.
But she felt her hands going numb,
she felt her eyelids close
and that last breath of desperate gasping
made her choke even more.
And in her mind, his face was burnt;
an after image of perfection.
Smiling, lips stretched taut against pure white teeth.
Hair slightly aloft with a passing breeze.
And his hands, so smooth, so white, so romantic.
The hands that parted her skin with a kitchen knife.
But so romatic none-the-less.
He had caught her unaware, halfway up a curb.
He had caught her,
and it was fair.
I wish I was the one
who lingers on; in your mind.
I wish I was the one
who made your knees weak
and electricity darts through you
when our fingertips meet.
din
