What I once found fulfilling
And had me melt like
Our cheesy comments,
Now feels so foreign and strange.
Do emotions just blind us completely?
Not in a way where everything seems dark
And you cannot see.
But in a way where there’s too much light
And you look the other way
Or end up closing your eyes.
As if these intense emotions are there
To amplify and hype up anything
That could be good into beautiful .
And once that light dims,
Your eyes adjust and start to see clearer.
And what once took your breath away,
Now, is extraordinarily ordinary.
A new state of blankness. It’s real.
I’m not numb, it’s not that I don’t feel “nothing”, it’s just blank.
Nothing and blank might be the same, but if you’ve been in that Nothing phase you’d understand.
I’m not indifferent either, my emotions are perfectly on this time.
Whatever it is that defines this Blank phase, it’s interfering with my poetry writing. It was bad enough when i was stressed with exams, but right now it’s like a writer’s block though in a more general level – a life’s block? emotion’s block? I have no idea.
I took the last chain of smokes for tonight
as I sat in the cold,
hoping the chilly night would freeze my heart,
freeze my emotions for a second,
but all it did was numb my hands and face.
I placed my ear plugs,
replaying the songs that best described my misery
at maximum volume,
silencing the sound of the wind,
the sound of passing cars
the thoughts that still rebelled against its host,
and the shriek that exploded from my trembling mouth.
The tears followed, but my face was already numb,
so I didn’t feel it running down like Niagara falls
Today’s cigarettes have already burnt my throat,
I couldn’t feel the cry that screeched itself out.
I only felt the aching tightness that blazed in my chest.
And between the first song and the next, a pause –
I heard it.
The suffocating sobs that I have tried to bolt inside this fragile self of mine.
I hid under my coat,
waiting for the wind to blow me away.
And what we had was a dishonest relationship.
One where my eyes would express lack of interest,
One where I’d glimpse his smile and ache deeply,
Because it was intended not for me, but for another weakly.
One where I would talk about anything but us
To avoid saying any truth that can force our memory to rust
One that tempts me to warm myself against him
And expect goosebumps to spread on his skin.
One where he’d speak of the XX’s so openly
And I’d listen with an indifferent act..Silently
A dishonest relationship that I have selfishly accepted,
To fulfil a wish that has not yet been granted
A dishonest relationship that was created in my mind
Hence the name, as there is nothing real that you will find.
A dishonest relationship where he is not present,
Where I haven’t yet revealed my feelings that still ascend.
A dishonest relationship still exists
Until this man can call me “his”.