Magic

I want to be a kid again, don't you?
That time when you fell and scratched your knee and it was okay to cry like a baby
When your biggest sin was stealing cookies at night
When you fell asleep on the couch and woke up on your bed
When you believed it was a real magic when the magician pulled a flower from his hat
When you sang a silly song off tune and people would laugh with you,

not at you

If I fall asleep on the couch tonight I'll wake up on the couch too tonight,

rubbing my eyes, blindly trying to find my way back to my room in the dark

If I fall and scratch my knee today, I'll only bit my lip and grimace at the little cuts

because crying over a scratched knee is for kids

And I'm not a kid, no matter how much I want to be one again

And I commit yet another sin in every step I take,

because I know I've chosen the wrong path

I miss being a kid, don't you?

But I still believe that magic exists, just not in the form of rabbit that comes out of nowhere

I've always loved to sing, you know

Mummy told me I've sung since I was only four, maybe younger

She said I used to sing in front of people, even when I didn't know them

And now that I'm older, I know better than to embarrass myself in front people

So I chose to sing silently to myself instead or sing only to those who already know me

It's....safer, in a way, I guess

But before you sleep, I want you to say your prayers

And when all you can see is darkness, recall the sound of me humming your favorite tune

Carrying you deeper and deeper into your slumber

And when you finally land your feet on the ground of dream, 

you know the whisper of the wind against the leaves is actually me, still humming to you

And by the time you open your eyes at dawn,

send your prayers with my hums still playing in the back of your mind

Because I don't really want to leave

Because I want to show you I can do magic too

"Why do you like reading so much?" people often ask me that

And I often just shrug, knowing that even if I explain it to them, they will never get it

But sometimes I get excited and tell them every each of my reasons

I love the smell of books and I love the sound the paper makes when I turn to another page

I love the hundreds feelings every story gives me

I love how every story creates another world for me to live in

I love how every book takes me to travel to somewhere beyond the world,

how it makes me fly with my soul and leave my body behind

I love how they make me forget about everything for a while

I love how every paragraph makes me feel different things,

pain in one, and bliss in another

I love how every book leaves me breathless once I've finished it

I love how every story teaches me things that aren't taught at school

I love how every book, every story, gives me yet another reason to love reading 

And I love how it will take me a day to list all my reasons

And I've probably bored you to tears right now

But my biggest reason is that I love the magic every book brings me

How do you imagine your future?

In your head, do you sit behind a table in a office with stacks of paper waiting for you?

Do you sit and eat together with your happy little family?

Do you run chasing your first child when he finally discovers he can run?

Do you see yourself smiling happily at your soulmate?

Do you see yourself as a doctor? Teacher? Musician?

When I imagine my future I see myself sitting on my bed with a pen in hand

and a notebook sitting on my lap, writing shit like this

Occasionally sipping on my coffee slowly as if it could help me find an inspiration

And when my little ones come in and ask me what I'm doing

I'll tell them, "Mummy's working on her magic, sweethearts."

And when they ask me to do some tricks I'll show them one of my old writings

And tell them that my magic is hidden beneath every letter written

Because I believe words are magic if you could arrange them with your heart

If you could pour your soul in to your sentences

If you willing to share the magic in you with every letter you write

And I know writing things like this can hardly make a living

I should probably get a more productive job

But I know I can't save people by inventing new medicine

I know I can't make people happy by building a beautiful park

I know I can't make people's lives easier by making a new machine

I know I can't help thousands of lives by stopping wars

I know I can't bring justice by locking up the villains and saving the innocents

But maybe, just maybe, I can calm people's souls by writing my soul out

Maybe, just maybe, I can make people's hearts feel again 

by showing them my feelings through my sentences

Maybe, just maybe, I can make someone a better person by telling them about my heart

Maybe, just maybe, I can tell people that I understand, even though I don't know them

merely by sharing my jumbled thoughts

And maybe, just maybe, I can erase the frowns on people's foreheads and lift the corners of their lips

when they feel my magic slowly working its way through their souls 

while they're reading my written thoughts

And for me, that's enough

For me, the smiles are enough

From Me

If I asked you if there were any songs that made me cross your mind,
whenever you listened to it, would you say yes?
Would you say the title of your favorite song?
Or would you say the title of the song I had told you about?
I know I’m not a beautiful melody nor am I lyrical
But I’d like to hear someone tell me I’m like the tune of their favorite song
Now if I asked you if there was a poem that reminded you of me,
would you nod and say yes?
Would you tell me your favorite part of the poem?
Would you read me the part that reminded you of me the most?
And I know I’m not a beautifully arranged thoughts,
but I’d like to hear someone tell me I sound like their favorite rhyme

Now I want to know if you think of me whenever you see coffee
would you instantly tell me yes?
Or would you just stare at me then laugh?
Telling me to stop fooling around before finally stop and quietly say yes?
And I know I’m more bitter than a cup of strong coffee
but I’d like to hear someone tell me I’m the one that keeps them awake at night
Now If asked you if there was a book that made you think of me
would you say yes and show me the book?
Would you read me the exact part that made you see me in your mind?
Or would you say you didn’t like reading that much?
Well I know I’m not a magical story nor do I have a great plot of life story
But I’d like to hear someone tell me I’m their favorite character in this book God has written

And I think I’ve wasted too much of my time thinking
That I’m like that tune of a sad song,
where the singer sings it with his eyes closed and his voice
sends a shiver run down your spine
That I sound like that one rhyme in a poem,
where the poet killed himself right after he wrote it
That the bitterness in me causes people to wince
more than a strong coffee does
That I’m that character who punches her mirror
because she despises what she sees in her mirror

You know, I sometimes wonder what it’ll feel like
to cut my palm open just to forget the growing ache in my heart
And I know I’m scared of seeing blood
but I want to know if I indeed bleed red too
Because I’ve been sinning differently
And I wonder if I’m worth heaven

Could you take a piece of my thoughts?
Just to make my head feel lighter because lately it only gets heavier
And I’m counting the days when it’ll just explode
into millions little pieces
And even if it did,
would you bend over and pick up all the millions little pieces?
Would you put them back together again to make it whole again
just to bring me back?
Because I haven’t been here for too long
I’ve been stuck in my head, circling my mind
And my mind is a dark place to be
I’ve been trying to turn the light on
Running my hands on the walls, desperately trying to find the switch in the blackness
But I’m scared of the deafening darkness
And you’re not always there to hold the torch for me
And you won’t always be there to hold the torch for me

But when I scream, will you run to the darkness?
Bringing me a light even though it’s just a flicker of dying fire lit from a candle?
But when I bleed because of my own stupidity, will you go to the blackness?
Bringing me band-aids and helping me bandage my wounds?
But I won’t know where to start, because lately I feel aches all over my body
And I don’t know if they’re real wounds
Or it’s just my mind playing trick on me
And I just hope you don’t plan on cutting my wounds deeper
I just hope you won’t just leave me in the dark,
taking all your lights and your band-aids with you,
leaving me with salt and lime instead, to replace your band-aids
I know I’m not making any sense
And now that you know just how fucked up I really am,
will you still stay?
Or will you turn around and walk away?
Because I need someone to save me from me
And I can’t save me from me

when you walk in into somebody's life
make sure you won't walk out when they're at their worst
the wall around their heads they've been building their whole lives
might crumble down
and when the walls crumble,
the sharp chunks might stab their already troubled minds.
And that will open those deep wounds that had slowly healed before.
And the bleeding will start all over again
this time with no bandages to stop the blood from seeping out.
And that hurts
Goddamnit just trust me that fucking hurts

Wendy

I just want to know
if you ever picture yourself as Peter Pan,
refusing to drink coffee,
too caught up in a world of lollipops,
too busy sipping on a glass of hot chocolate with marshmallows
Flying around the bushes
with a little help of fairy dust
and happy thoughts.
Happy thoughts.

I want you to tell me
if you ever picture yourself as Wendy,
too eager to take a sip of bitter black coffee,
leaving her unwrapped lollipop
and her half-empty glass of hot chocolate with marshmallows
Walking away from the joy of flying,
ignoring the aching desire for happy thoughts
Happy thoughts.

Tell me,
do you sometimes miss the way you ran when you were 6?
The time when you ran because you felt free,
because you were the one who actually chased something
Not because you felt pushed,
not because you were the one who was being chased
I want to know if you ever miss
the way you talked when you were only 5
When you talked because you wanted to,
not because you had to.
When you talked because you wanted to share your story,
not because other people demanded you to.
I want to ask you if you sometimes wonder
where these past ten years have gone to
Maybe at this very moment they are flying around the big old tree
in your front yard
Or maybe they're flying around the swing in the park
where you used to come when you were a kid
Or maybe they are just floating above your head,
having fun teasing you with their memories
And you're desperately trying to catch them
but they seem to float higher and higher
and then they spread their wings and fly
And you remember you can't fly
because you don't have fairy dust
you can't keep happy thoughts in your head for a long time
So you just sit back
and watch them soar into the air

If I asked you if you ever found it hard to sleep at night,
would you say yes and tell me why
or would you just brush it off and change the topic?
I want to know if you ever need help to fall asleep
I want to know why you need help to fall asleep
Is it because your pillow isn't comfortable enough?
Is it your blanket that can't keep you warm enough?
Is it because your bed doesn't feel soft enough against your skin?
Is it because you're afraid of the dark?
And even though you keep the lamp on,
you still have to close your eyes,
and it's all dark when you close them.
Is it because your nightmares keep haunting you?
Whispering sweet promises of love you're afraid of?
Leaving dark marks under your eyes.
Leaving a speck of fear in your pupils.

Tell me,
if I made some theories now
would you believe me or would you laugh at me?
Telling me to stop being so silly?
Would you actually listen to me?
But hey, God created me to be a stubborn creature,
and I want you to hear my theories.
So listen to me now

Perhaps, you can't fall asleep because your brain
  is too busy thinking of someone.
Or perhaps, you can't fall asleep because your brain
is too busy wondering
why you don't have anyone to think of.
Perhaps you can't fall asleep because your brain is so restless
and it just can't stop wondering about silly things.
Like, why the heck does the sun rise in the east
and set in the west?
Why is this planet round? Why can't it be square?
And then you remember that God made it that way because of reasons.
And then you wonder what those reasons could be.

Perhaps you can't fall asleep because you remember the old man
you passed on the street today.
Sat on a bench, looking up at the sky smiling.
As if he was listening to God telling him that his time in this screwed up world
was about to end
And he smiled because he finally felt free,
and you're wondering when you will feel free too.
Perhaps you can't fall asleep because you remember seeing
an old couple the other night in a restaurant
Chatted away happily together just like two silly teenagers,
whispering sweet things to each other,
gazing at each other in a complete adoration,
holding hands as if they were too afraid to let go because the other might disappear into thin air
And you're wondering when you will find a love like that.

Or perhaps you can't fall asleep because you miss
the way you ran when you were 6
Because you miss the way you talked when you were 5
Because you miss that swing in the park you used to visit when you were a kid
Perhaps you can't fall asleep because you finally realize you are Wendy
Too eager to have a taste of your father's strong hot black coffee
leaving your unwrapped lollipop a gift from your mother for being a nice kid that day,
leaving your half-empty glass of hot chocolate you usually had after a snowball fight

Perhaps,
you can't fall asleep because tonight,
you stop ignoring the aching desire for happy thoughts
as you finally embrace the ache.
You finally embrace the ache.

Goodbyes

Well maybe someday I'll carry your flame
and you'll carry mine.
Or maybe we'll share a flame together
Or maybe we'll carry our own flame by ourselves
I'll carry mine and you'll carry yours
Because sometimes the art of sharing
just slips out of our minds

Maybe someday we'll sing together
or maybe I'll sing a song
when you'll play the guitar
Or maybe we'll play the guitar together
and sing together
Or maybe we won't at all
Maybe I'll sing alone
in my room where I'll live with books
without any music to kiss my voice

Maybe someday we'll dance together
or maybe we won't.
Neither of us can dance, after all.
And maybe I'll dance alone one day in my room,
when the windows and the door are closed
Replaying the memories of us with every move I make
in a darkness that is my remedy

Maybe someday we'll write our story together,
publish the book and make a living from it
Or maybe I'll write our story by myself
because you'll have forgotten our memories
Or maybe I won't write it either
because I'll have forgotten too
You know I'm bad at remembering things
and you know I can't write a story
I only can write a piece of trash full of bullshit
then post it on the internet
Like exactly what I'm doing right now.
As if anyone would actually read it
as if anyone would actually like it

Maybe someday we'll meet each other again in a pet store
where I'll buy a cat and you will too
And you'll ask me why I want to buy a pet
because you'll still remember that I'm not an animal lover
And I'll be surprised because you remember.
And then we'll begin to talk about our lives
about our memories
And maybe we'll start us again

Maybe we'll bump into each other in a bookstore
where we'll actually stand side by side in the same section
and when I'll drop a book you'll pick it up
and I'll say 'thanks' and you'll say 'you're welcome'
and we'll smile at each other and when we're on our own way home
we'll be wondering about each other,
"I think I've seen that person somewhere."

Maybe right now I'm hoping we'll never forget each other
maybe right now I'm wishing I had never met you at all
Maybe right now you're doing the same thing
or maybe you're just sleeping
Maybe I'm half dreaming right now,
writing this.
Maybe I'm fully sober,
and thinking, "Why can't I just stop writing this shit?"
Maybe that's because I hate saying goodbyes,
that I actually hate goodbyes in general.
But goodbyes are always there,
waiting at the end of the street,
waiting at the end of our journeys.

But hey, I think my car just broke down
so I can't reach the end of the street on time.
But maybe I'm happy it's broken.
So I don't have to say goodbye.
We don't have to say goodbye.
Just yet.

~~

Yup, not my best work but well, I was bored and I had a little idea so I wrote it. Not that good but the idea was pretty annoying, jumping in my head and stuff, so I just had to get it out.
So yeah, whatevs. Cheers.

Lies

I once knew a girl
She had two bright eyes, a dazzling smile, and a brilliant laugh
Her hair was deep black, always flowing down her back
I asked her once if she was happy, she had said yes
and I believed her.
How could I not? She always seemed to be circled
by happiness around her.
Like a halo

Her eyes twinkled in a way I had never seen before
and her lips curled into a smile I had never recognized before
and her laugh sounded like a melody I had heard before
in a scene of a movie, but I just couldn't remember it
But I could've sworn it was a comedy movie
So I guessed she was happy.

I think you'll never know what your present is
until you gather up the courage to open the damned box, right?
it could be wrapped up in a colorful paper with cute patterns
with a beautiful ribbon glued on top
but when you rip it open you find the most horrible thing you've ever seen
Or it could be plainly wrapped up in a dull shade of brown paper
with no patterns or ribbons
but when you open it
you find the most beautiful thing you've ever laid your eyes upon
And I suppose that's life

Have you ever heard a song so bad
you want to rip off your ears?
Even though if you look at it more closely
the lyrics have a deep meaning lurking there somewhere among the letters
And have you ever enjoyed a really good song
you want to dance along the melody all the time?
Even though when you look at it closely
you can't find anything in the arranged words
Well I suppose that's love

Now back to the girl
I witnessed her breaking down in front of me one day
complaining loudly that life just wasn't fair
And I just stood there awkwardly
wondering when life actually had been fair
Her twinkled eyes seemed to glisten in the dark because of the tears
Her dazzling smile turned into a thin line
Her laughter transformed into a heart-wrecking sobs
that pulled on anyone's heartstrings
Her hair was dampened by her own Niagara Falls
And I watched her as a sob wrecked her body once again
I shushed her up softly
telling her that everything would be okay
when in reality I did not understand a thing
I helped her to stand up and when she was among people once again,
her strong facade returned
her broken tall walls were quickly rebuilt, strong as ever
And I just stared at her like she had grown a new head

She turned to me and mouthed a 'thanks'
I only stared at her and numbly nodded as she turned back
The twinkles in her eyes were there
along with her smiles
Her laughter was heard again
with a melody I still couldn't put my finger on
Her hair was still slightly damp but none noticed this
or maybe they did, but they didn't bother asking

But somehow I slowly understood
why I had never seen twinkles like those of hers before
Her eyes twinkled with hope
and wonder
Hoping the sorrow will leave
wondering why sorrow had never left her
And I slowly understood
why I never recognized her smiles
her lips curled into a wavering smile
As if she was unsure if she had the right to smile or not
And I slowly remembered the scene of a movie
where I had heard the melody of her laughter before
It was a scene of funeral
Where everyone wore black
and the dead's loved ones were crying for him
under the warmth of the sun
As if their tears wanted to bath in the sunlight
The sad, sorrowful melody playing in the background
And then everyone eventually left,
leaving the dead alone resting in his tomb
And I remembered the sad melody
Her laughter rang clearly like that song
And I guessed she had lied to me

I know I had said that it was a comedy movie
but that doesn't mean anyone couldn't die
There's always death lurking around,
among all the laughs we all share

Have you ever lied just for the sake of other people,
then you swallowed your own wound
just so other people's wounds would get bandaged?
Have you lied for the sake of your own self,
just to cover up the wound you had caused for yourself?
"Lies, lies, lies," they sometimes chanted
And I wondered,
Did the deads tell all the truth before they died,
or did they carry their lies with them to their tombs?

Now I will lie and say I'm not wondering about it anymore