Anchor Chains

**Note: I have absolutely no idea what motivated me to write this poem, but for some reason I just felt the need to begin writing it and could not stop. It is probably one of the darkest ones that I have written, but nonetheless, it was very fun to write.

How do I fill the void that is left entrenched in its darkness,
Left inside my once rich heart before this blindness?
Why is it that my prosperity is soon followed with the deepening core,
Of the intense sorrow that lacks the knowledge of what I grieve for?

Let go of me, for I can no longer resist,
As it constrains me deeper into its eternal, foreboding mist.
"I want to be free!" I scream within myself, only it never breaks sound,
The surrounding crowds only witness a smile, as I am only internally bound.

Bound by the unknown, there is no trace of curiosity in me,
To discover this calamity that threatens to leave me with cruelty.
This suffering must end, I must remember who I used to be,
The only one who holds the key to the chains is the honourable side of me.

Puzzle Pieces

Sometimes the events that occur in my life all seem to hold the common intent of crushing my dreams, passions or relationships with the people around me. Day after day, things just fail to go my way, and I am motionlessly dumbstruck at how and when things suddenly began to go downhill. It's as though everything I once looked forward to becomes something I try to forget, because it is no longer obtainable. But other times, every single thing in my life seems to fit together and go as planned. It is funny how in those moments, I tend to forget to appreciate how everything in my life is going so smoothly, only because I don't recall the nasty feeling of losing control during the difficult times. But what I have recently realized -- you could even call it a 'mild epiphany' -- is that events in my life only begin to go as planned after everything has gone wrong. Confused yet? Before people start to think this blog represents the mind of a neurotic, let me provide an example:

If you're an adult and are either in school or have a job, you have probably realized by now that life is definitely a puzzle, and its pieces are scattered in this world and -- most likely -- the next fifteen dimensions. I'm not trying to sound like Forrest Gump (because let's face it, he sounds much cooler when he talks about life), but life really is like a puzzle! Think about it; when things are going well in your life, the puzzle pieces tend to fit together and make a pretty picture (for fun, let's say it's a picture of Tom Hardy). But when everything seems to fall apart, it's as though those puzzle pieces are breaking apart and therefore; the puzzle fails to make any sense (as though Tom Hardy's lips are where his belly button should be). Here is the interesting part: the puzzle only falls apart to make a new puzzle from its altered pieces; a puzzle that becomes more beautiful than the previous one (let's keep it clean this time with a picture of Paris). 

You probably still think I'm a neurotic because this probably only makes sense to me, but what I'm really trying to say is that life is a puzzle, and the events and relationships in our lives are the puzzle pieces. Their purpose is to break apart from the puzzle, reform into new shapes and sizes, then pull themselves back into the puzzle and somehow make room for themselves. That is the cycle of one's life. Sometimes pieces from the puzzle will fall apart and break, but they do so only to come back and put together a more beautiful and elegant picture that represents your new life. It's like Darwin's theory of the "survival of the fittest"; the pieces change because you change, your dreams change, your friends change. Though at the time when everything is falling apart you may lose faith, just remember that things are only changing in order to accommodate your improved life.

It's over

The illuminated path I started on begins to dim,
The shadow that follows behind alters the beautiful scenery to grim,
Because that shadow threatens my happiness; that shadow resembles him.


The ease now turns to anger,
The hole in my heart gets bigger,
Because that anger threatens my peace; that anger becomes my captor.


An entity visits my path and lights itself,
Relieving my disturbed conscious like heavy books taken off a shelf,
Because that entity manifests itself as my saviour; that entity is my present self.

Freedom.

The wing of a bird is a simple yet complex affair,
Those trusted know it should be preserved and handled with care,
It stretches far and high to prove its might,
But who would have known a bullet would break its flight?

The leader's hands on the hips of the dancer guides her moves,
Nobody but her realizes that he is leading her in a way she disproves,
The elegant dancer should be following with a smile,
But who would have known his hands force her direction into a perilous style?

The graceful arms of the dancer resemble the fragile wing of the bird,
Both controlled and insecure, both vulnerable and fractured.
The will to escape transforms the broken wing into one that is majestic,
And the competence of the dazed dancer leaves her no longer heartsick.
Their gallantry allows them to become independent and privileged,
As their new-found liberty will grant them protection and always be kept salvaged.

Flicker

Birds sing as the smell of after-rain engrosses my room,
The occasional sounds of distant cars fill me with gloom.
Yet, when I think of you, my world morphs into silence,
My reality confuses itself with a feeling of voidance.

Together, we create envy for those who have not yet been touched by love,
Others say we are something we need to be proud of.
As I sit and ponder about the illuminating light that makes itself known in my dark room,
I cannot help but notice its constant flicker that reinforces its doom.

Why do I remain still and feed it my attention,
As though I am to blame for its arrogant creation?
For the first time, I move towards the switch of the light,
A single tear falls down my cheek as I deliver its death into the night.

Rose Petals to Brown Leaves

The crimson leaves of last season have crumbled and follow the gust,
Shriveled from time and identical to remnants of dust.
In the wind their residue travels to places we will never know,
But their purpose is to secure room for new flowers to blossom and grow.

I stand as an obstacle for the leaves to reach their destination,
Because I stand where their buds first bloom in their creation.
We must let go of our fears and allow the floret to thrive,
If we lose faith, it will simply remain a dull chive.

Trying to fix something before it is broken may appear to be original and clever,
But like an over-watered flower, it will only descend in its damage forever.
I step away as the obstacle and instead give the seed my blessing,
There is not a single thing to do but to allow its valuable journey through its destined path, freeing me from obsessing.

Gratuitous Therapy

There's an emptiness inside of me. Like a gaping hole that grows in accordance to the growth of my emotional maturity. Until now, I never had the guts to even admit any negative feelings I have. I've grown up to hide my feelings, to smother them with all the happiness I could muster in front of my friends. But this entry is not about me. It's about the temporary happiness people can feel, and how easily it goes away with the trigger of one idea. No, I am not talking about depression or psychological issues; I am talking about human emotions. What causes us to love or to hate? I can tell you from much experience that hating someone is the easiest emotion you can feel, but the most difficult to forget. Myself, for example, would rather despise everything about someone before coming to terms with the pain they have put me through. I hope that hating a person so much will keep me busy enough to forget why I hate them. Yeah, I'm a pussy. But my pride and habit has taught me to wrap plastic wrap around the real person I am, and instead show off my new shiny self. But whatever this is supposed to achieve, it's not working. Forget the traditional values, humans need to interact with each other and communicate their loneliness or despair. It's easier said than done, I know. But times are changing and people are becoming much more open about themselves. We must trust enough in ourselves to be able to trust in others, and when we show our true selves we are not certain of the outcome, but we need to have faith that in the end it is worth having shown someone who we really are. To love ourselves means that we accept the happiness and the pain we have faced, and only through that acceptance can we move forward and share our experiences and lessons learned with our future loved ones. This gratifying sense of self is what I call gratuitous therapy.

The Concourse

As I sit across from him, I sniffle and pull out a Kleenex. “Jeez, this winter has been making everyone sick!” he says with a one-sided smile. I smile back, trying to hide the fact that these sniffles were caused by the tears in my eyes. How much longer? I look at him again as this question confronts me for the hundredth time today, but his attention has been redirected to the funny text he has just received. I look down at my books again, pretending I was looking at the people behind him as they laugh loudly. I force myself to lose interest in him because clearly he is not interested in me. My ego is too big to let it be bruised by a silent rejection. Every time I hear shuffling or footsteps, I look up in the hopes of the good-looking boys to notice me and smile. Of course, this doesn’t happen. Stupid me, it obviously wouldn’t happen to a girl like me. Only I don’t believe it. It could happen to me; someone who cares so much about appearance but dedicates her time to building her personality. But it doesn’t, and it hasn’t. Again, how much longer? How many more times do I have to pretend that having girls’ night on weekends is my choice and what I enjoy? That when a boy below my standards shows interest, I hide the fact that I starve for his attention? My loneliness consumes my thoughts and redirects my focus. I am constantly wondering how I can finally feel whole. I grew up believing love is just a luxury, that my needs and goals were a priority. Now love has become my necessity, and the emptiness I feel without it is like the constant feeling of going to bed hungry.
I close my books and stuff them in my backpack. As I get up I glance one more time at the boy in front of me. In the second I look at him, I see his blue hat sitting loosely on his head, wearing a tan-coloured sweater in blue jeans. So casual and so careless; something I show others I am. But he hasn’t noticed the pretty girl pretending to be concentrated in her books in front of him. Of course, I only desire a moment like this, and it feels as hard to achieve as winning the lottery. I leave the lounge and go home, the feeling of solitude never leaving me. The only thing I am certain of is that when I lay in my bed tonight, no one will be sleeping where I place my hand on the pillow beside my head.

Disappointment Overdose

Disappointments happen everywhere. Whether it is being given a terrible mark on a paper you thought was a masterpiece, or missing out on the concert of your favorite band, it seems like life is a disappointment overdose.

Why, you might wonder, would I feel such a way when my life is full of happiness, luck, and barely any hardships? (I am quite superstitious, so I will ask you to knock on wood ;)) Why is it that often people, including myself, focus on the negatives in life and forget the good things that have happened? I am no pessimistic; for I definitely see the glass as half full. Every time I am let down or stepped on, I believe 100% that it will be much better next time. Sure, I have those days where I feel nothing is going to change, and the world will never be a good place, but who doesn't have those moody, PMS-ing days where you feel nothing is going well? (Hell yes, even guys PMS.)

It's other people who disappoint me. I am not saying I'm the Queen of the World and need to be pleased constantly, but come on, it wouldn't hurt sometimes to care. This isn't a cry for attention, this isn't a dumb blog trying to say, "Guys, I'm going through a hard time, I'm like this, and I'm like that. Please pay attention to whatever I say, and always be there when I need someone." No, definitely not. Because who has the time for all that crap? Hell, even I wouldn't 'always be there for someone'. There's no such thing anyway. Unless you don't have a life, or are madly in love with that person, there is no way in hell you will ALWAYS be there. Of course you'll help them out at difficult times, but you and I both know humanity's selfish instinct disallows other people from being your first priority. What I am getting at is that society as a whole doesn't care enough. Like us individuals, society seems to prioritize. Call me crazy, but it seems we give so much attention to events that make the West look like either heroes or victims. Since I find the United States completely untrustworthy; I actually believe 9/11 was planned by the US. Muslims have been known to do some unforgivable things, but there is no way they were able to pull that off. Though 9/11 was a great tragedy, I find the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki much more significant. But no way will the Americans ever admit that. Why? Because they were the ones who dropped those bombs. Of course the Americans are sneaky and filthy that way; welcome to politics! Okay, I am probably going to be hated for saying this, but I am the type of person to say what's on my mind--loving the controversy it brings along with it: How many classes, seminars, movies, articles, television programs, and attention are we going to give the Holocaust? Of course it was a terrible event in history, and Hitler was a disgusting pig. Six million innocent Jews were killed; children, women, and men. Just because of their religion. It's awful. But how many genocides are going on in Africa right now? Rwanda, Sudan, and probably many other countries that aren't even mentioned in Canadian and American news. I find that as disgusting as the Holocaust itself. How many more lives are going to be lost by tomorrow from starvation, poverty, abuse, and diseases? I am not going to blame the lack of attention for these ignored souls because of racism; instead I am going to blame our ignorance. What is the United Nations doing? Instead of trying to find non existing bombs in random Middle East countries, save the poor people who can't fend for themselves. For God's sake, their lack of aid is as inhumane as private health care in America. Though the Americans didn't rush to help the Jews at the beginning of the second World War; they still sacrificed many lives to help liberate all the Jews in Europe. I still haven't seen much progress in Africa and for 2009 that is depressing. Who am I to complain about disappointments when people living in genocides, constant violence, and poverty are confronted with them every single day? I am ashamed. As technology progresses, we are becoming more and more lazy. We don't even bother writing letters anymore; instead we quickly type our messages to our loved ones overseas into an IM box and send it away! I am going to devote my life to saving innocent people and give them the life I was so fortunately given. Whether it's kicking some international criminals' ass in an international court, or travelling to countries in need myself; I promise to make my own fragment of peace in this world. But it's up to all of us; the next generation, to decide whether we are willing to get our hands dirty for a good cause. In the words of the wise Ice Cube, "You can do it put your back into it".

Badass

Surrounded by most things my mother has taken my hand from,
All the desires rushing through me, only wanting freedom
"Come on, just one time. It'll be fun, do it!"
Eyes piercing through me, making me feel like I don't fit

I do it once, then again, one more time
Washing the burning sensation down with lime
"This is fun! Let's do one more!"
"Oh no, I cannot. My throat is getting sore."

What's that you say? Will I do what for you?!
I'm sorry, but what you were told is not true.
I would never do that, especially not for somebody I don't know
Me? A girl like that? Say it isn't so!
For I have enough respect for myself to remember who's in charge
As my integrity and dignity are still at large
Of course I'm calling a cab! You're creeping me out!
If I stay longer, you will hurt me, that I do not doubt.

Getting home, to the sweetest people I know,
The only people I trust, since 17 years ago
"Oh Mom! I'm so glad to be back!
But I'm too tired to explain! I'm going to go hit the sack."

Crawling into my bed I think of the excuses I could use to explain
But as I drift off I think to myself, "Holy shit, that was insane!"

What goes on in a teenager's mind...

Memorizing the time you'll be here
But wishing you would always want to be near
Checking the time over and over again
Distracting myself in order to keep sane

Not yet friends, and far from lovers,
Yet if we're together, I daydream about the dangers
Fights, tears, my father kicking your ass
Or distraction causing me to fall behind in class

As I laugh at such nonsense a girl my age would think of,
I still wonder, "Is what's happening love?"
As friends disapprove, I still defend you,
Wondering if you would do the same thing for me too

Maybe it's a Taylor Swift song about an amazing guy,
"Your eyes are lookin' into mine, so baby make me fly"
Or maybe it's just the feeling of a summer fling
Because in the end, I don't want my heart aching.

Day and night, I imagine of what could be
Though deep down I know, you can never be with me.

Sad Eyes

Getting a call from a friend who cancels,
Never hearing the words desired from a boy,
Watching your family fall apart,
watching them try to mend their broken hearts.

Guns, grenades, suicide bombers,
CNN filled with witnessing callers,
People fighting their own people and shedding each other's blood,
Soldiers waiting for the enemy in the bushes, covered in mud.

People you trust and have fun with,
but deep inside knowing a good friend is a myth.
Women sacrificing their dignity and self respect for a man's love,
Allowing the media to degrade the rest of the women who have self love

A dog put in a cage to be sold and fend for itself,
Showing no sympathy and keeping all the money for ourself,
A small, starving child with helpless tears on tv dies,
I watch the world; all the hate and misfortune, with sad eyes.