And Maybe...

And maybe you don't love me like I love you.
You don't think of me as much as I do.
You don't try to seek me out like I do you.
The thought has never crossed your mind.
And that's perfectly fine.
I'll survive
Forever chasing you,
Yearning for your love I'll never have.

Selfish Desires

Please, just put up with my selfish requests a little longer.
Soon, you can forget me.
Soon, my existence won't matter.
So at least for now, put me at the top.

Just a little longer and we'll part ways forever.
Although you mean the world to me,
It's positive that I'm just... There in your mind.
Tell me, did I ever make a dent in you
Like you did to me?

Now, we won't see each other each day anymore.
Every day conversations won't be "every day."
We'll never ask each other for help anymore.
You'll forget about me.
And I'll hopefully forget about you, too.
Although I say that, it isn't actually true.

I'll never forget about you.
You've left too much of an impression on me,
And it's a shame you'll never know that.
I liked you far too much.
And you never felt the same.
I was a nuisance to you, wasn't I?
I'm so sorry.

Just a little more...
And it will be our goodbye.
I won't miss you.
I will forget you.
We'll talk someday.
Although those will be the complete truth for you,
I'm the exact opposite.

My final selfish desire
Is for you to be free.
Be happy.
Thank you for putting up with me.

Last Goodbye

When we parted ways,
You showed me a lively smile
That told me it was okay to leave you.
But was it really?
You worked hard for the both of us,
Pushing your body and mind past its limits.
So why was saying goodbye so easy?
As I watched you turn away from me,
Your back seemed smaller that it was before.

Why do I Cry?

In times of weakness,
Tears are shed.
In moments of frustration,
Tears are wept.
To grieve of a death
Brings sorrow and tears.
Despite what I'm told
Of tears and sadness
Being our greatest weakness,
I don't believe so.
Although they show
The "coward" in us all,
They express an inborn human emotion,
So innate, so hidden from the word.
We hide our pain in secret,
Hoping to not be viewed as "weak".
But the more we repress them,
The harder they will fall.
It takes great courage
To cry in front of others,
And it takes a human
To mourn for the life of others
And to feel their pain,
As well as your own.

Why do I cry?
I cry because I am human.

The Sky and the Earth Below

{Uh hi. Sorry I. Finals. OTL. Yesterday, it rained where I lived~ That's actually very unusual because of WHERE I live; the weather here is usually 110F 95% - 99% of the time. So yeah. ;w;.}

On rare nights the sky
Cries out on to the earth
Leaving its tears behind.
It floods the ground below
With no care about
Who would get hurt in the process.
Perhaps it was heartbroken
Or perhaps it was a dreary day.
It's so strong, so caring,
Not daring to show
Its weakness to others.
On those rare days
It cries, letting its
Frustrations and fears out.
And so the tormented sky
Cries alone in the night.

Fifteen.

{Guys it's exactly 1:10am and I'm still not done with homework. : ). Brb shooting self----. Anyways... I'm so tired. ;-;. I just want to sleepppp. And I really don't want to go to school this week. Or next week. Or any week. ; 3;. Here, have a story I wrote for another website.  /sobs. OH. Someone please tell me: Why is writing about "love" so... Easy? Lolol, I've been trying to refrain from using that as a topic but I find it as one of the easiest go-to subjects to write about... OH WELL BACK TO DOING A STUDY GUIDE ON OSMOSIS AND DIFFUSION YEAH!}

   "Mom, did you ever... Like anyone when you were fifteen?"

   "Who hasn't? Come to think of it... You're turning fifteen tomorrow, aren't you? You'll be at the age when my first love ended!" Chuckling, she added, "Honestly, I wouldn't be the same if that didn't happen to me then."

   The woman reminisced about her teenage years, remembering the sights, sounds, and smells she encountered during her years as a student. Looking at her bright-eyed daughter who was still so pure and innocent, seeming as if she had never gotten hurt before, the woman suddenly saw herself in her child. Not only were the facial features similar, but the air the child gave off, it was very much like the feeling the woman gave off years before - a gentle, kind presence that didn't know the meaning of heartbreak. 

   "Would you like to hear how my first love ended?" The woman asked.

   The child smiled, full of curiosity and wonder as to what her mother was like and who she loved when she was a teenager. Slowly the woman smiled, the answer evident on the child's face. It was clear to her that her daughter wanted to know of the past, and more about her mother.

   "Alright! This might be a long one though, so try to stay awake! It all started when I was fourteen..." The woman's voice grew warmer, and she closed her eyes to relive her memories.

   "My first love wasn't like any other boy. He was clumsy, a coward, and didn't have any aspects that made him stand out from the crowd. Maybe that's why I liked him. Seeing boys that were perfect all day from the television and magazines, I guess I felt that 'perfect' boys were just... Too ordinary? They lost their appeal once I noticed that most of them had rotten personalities. This man however... He was different. He was genuinely nice to everyone he met, even the ones who picked on him. Those types of boys are rare, I tell you! Compared to your father, this man was a lot nicer. I met him through my school's Writing Club. In each club, there will always be at least one person who sits alone in the corner and doesn't interact with people and... He was that one person. I remember when I first met him, he had his head buried in his journal, jotting down whatever he could think of. His dark brown, shaggy hair covered his eyes - I later found out he had the most beautiful, green eyes I had ever seen - and I didn't like him at all. He was a freak; he had friends but they were all very... Odd. Needless to say, I avoided him at the beginning of Writing Club. The only reason I started talking to him was because I had the chance to read what he wrote. His writing style was uncanny. It was sad, yet happy. Warm, but cold. It showed how he depicted things through his eyes. It told us of just how much he enjoyed life; although the things in between hurt him, he would always write about how he loved that part of life too. He saw the world from a different perspective; he was neither an optimist nor a pessimist. The moment I read his stories, I was captured. Soon after, I started to talk to him more, and I finally got to know the boy with the green eyes. Turns out, he wasn't as weird as I had perceived. He was just quiet and shy. In my mind, he was that antisocial kid who thought high school was a bore and just wanted out of it. But in the end, he wasn't like that in the slightest - he loved school and the thought of making friends. We started talking more during the club and school day. It even got to the point where the two of us would walk home together! I fell in love with his personality and I wanted so desperately to tell him... But I couldn't. I was so afraid that he wouldn't like me back or that our relationship would be broken. Instead of confronting my fears like I should had done, I ended up succumbing to them and keeping my relationship with him the same. Summer vacation was right around the corner and at that point, we were inseparable. I remember on the day of my fifteenth birthday, the two of us had planned to meet up the weekend school ended on Saturday at three in the afternoon. I was elated. This would have been our first 'date' together! The few days before our meeting I coordinated my outfit multiple times; I just couldn't find the right outfit to wear. Finally, I decided on a simple white dress that reminded me of him - he was pure, just like the colour white. I arrived at the meeting spot half an hour early, hoping to impress him when he showed up. As the time drew closer to three, my heart began to pound, the pounds gaining speed as the minute hand ticked toward the twelve. It was finally three!

   3:10pm. 

   3:20pm. 

   3:30pm. 

   3:40pm. 

   3:50pm. 

   4:00pm.

   I waited for an hour, holding on to the last bit of hope I could, just wondering when he would arrive. Still, I kept waiting for him, eventually waiting for two hours for him to come. 

   He never did.

   I was hurt. It couldn't have been possible for him to forget our plan so easily, was it? It wasn't that long since school was over; school only ended just three days prior. That day, I experienced firsthand how it felt to be stood up. Dejected, I walked home, my head down low. As soon as I stepped into my house and walked into my room, I cried. It was a petty reason to cry, but it was still a reason. The rest of the summer flew by without me talking to him again.

   Once school started, I still couldn't get over him. I looked for him around campus and in Writing Club, but he was nowhere to be found. None of his friends could tell me where he was either. He just... Disappeared. It was as if he was carried away by the wind. Knowing me, I don't take no for an answer. I never did, and I never will. That day, I walked to his house, hoping to see where he was. Once I got there I was greeted by his mother who... Aged a lot. Just a few months earlier she was very animated despite her age and now... Her head was covered in grey hairs and he body seemed too frail. She was like a twig; I was afraid that if I put any pressure on her she would snap in half. Thankfully she remembered me - it would have been awkward if she forgot! She invited me in and made me my favourite tea, Early Grey. We chatted, and for a second, her expression brightened. A smile crept onto her face and I finally saw the woman she once was before summer vacation came. After a while, I decided to ask her about him and where he was and... That's when things took a turn for the worse. Her expression dropped and it seemed like she was near tears. And that was when I found out why he couldn't meet me that Saturday afternoon. He was crossing the street when a driver crossed a red light and hit him. He died that day."

   Tears began to fall from the woman's eyes. She bit her lip, hoping to suppress them. However, the more she tried, the easier it was for them to fall. At that point, she couldn't stop. The tears kept falling, almost as if to make up for the time she lost not crying. Recollecting her thoughts, the woman continued on with her story, the tears still rolling down her cheeks.

   "I was shocked... Honestly. His mother didn't blame me at all despite the fact that he was going to meet me. Although she accepted his death she still couldn't handle the fact that she outlived her own child. If you died before me, I wouldn't know what to do. The shock was too much for me. At the time, I couldn't cry because the thought that he was dead was far too great for my mind to comprehend. I suddenly felt the urge to leave the house, but before I could reach the door, his mother stopped me. She told me to wait a few minutes while she went to get something. When she came back, she handed me a box. She told me that her son wanted to give me that on the day he died and that I should take it. I accepted the gift from her hands and said my goodbyes, as well as my apology for bringing up a painful memory, and with that, I ran toward my house. I rushed into my room, still dazed about what happened to him, and completely forgot about the box. When I finally realized that it was in my hand, I plucked all of my courage and opened it carefully, making sure not to destroy it. Inside the box was a necklace. It had my favourite flower, the rose, in my favourite colour, mint. I caressed it in my hand, and suddenly, the fact that he was dead hit me. I could never see him again. I could never talk to him again. Joke with him. Laugh with him. I couldn't do any of the things that were so normal between us again. He was gone."

   The woman stopped and wiped the excess water away from her eyes; she had stopped crying, but the tears weren't dry yet. Sucking in a deep breath, the woman finished off her story.

   "And that was how my first love ended. What do you think?" She looked at her daughter, who's eyes were rimmed with tears.

   "Is that really how it ends? There wasn't a happy ending to it?" The daughter replied, sniffling.

   "Unfortunately, yes. You see... Sometimes there are no happy endings. Unlike the characters in the stories society gives you, life doesn't offer happy endings. Sometimes, life won't work out like how we want it to, and sometimes, it will. Although my first love didn't have an amazing ending, I have one now. I have you, and I have your father. You two make up my 'happy ending'. Like I said before, if I hadn't met my first love or experienced the things I did back then, I would have never been able to become the person I am today. This may be hard to understand at your age, but I promise, in the future, you'll understand everything."

   The woman smiled at her daughter and arose from her seat. Walking towards the kitchen, she played with her rose-shaped pendant necklace, rolling it around in her fingers.

   "Honey, I'm making tea now. Would you like any? I'm sure that after that story you'd like to have something refreshing."

   "What kind?" Asked the daughter, peaking her head out of the top of the couch. 

   The woman let out a soft chuckle and replied, "Early Grey Tea."

Please.

{Because I get this feel all the time and I can't.}

That smile, it kills me inside.

Don't direct it to another girl,

Only show that face when you're with me.

Almost like a child who receives a toy,

That look provides me sustenance, the energy to live.

It's become something I can't live without.

It's become something I want to keep with me.

But what if you start to show that smile,

A private expression between the two of us,

To another person?

She's prettier than me, smarter too.

She's everything I'm not – athletic, graceful, funny, you name it.

I wouldn't be surprised if you fell for her;

She has everything... You would look for in a girl.

It's like she's the majestic and beautiful swan

And I'm the ugly duckling in the stories and fantasies given to children.

Except this time, the ugly duckling doesn't have a happy ending.

Please, just don't be closer to her than you are to me.

Don't show her your secret facial expressions

Or the voices you make when it's just the two of us.

Don't include her in our inside jokes,

Or tell them to her first and exclude me.

Please... Don't replace me.

Tomorrow.

I'm tired of waiting for that
One special day where
I can finally see and speak to you,
That one day later in life where
You're right here, right beside me again.
Yet... Later never comes.


I long for the moment to go back to where
My eyes were transfixed on your back,
Your body blocking out the harsh and cruel
Things the world had to offer to me.
The protection, the shield that I need so desperately right now,
Where is it?


I yearn for the day when my world becomes balanced again.
When you're right by my side, within arm's reach.
I crave for those memories to become reality once more,
And for these tears to be replaced with smiles.
I wish for the day when I can joyfully call you my father again
Without the limitations of death to stop me.
If only I didn't want these things to happen so much.
Maybe then the "later" would come sooner.

Bullying.

{NBEFORE: "Did this happen to you?" No, it didn't; I had tried to write in that perspective. ;-;. ANYWAYS... I hate my phone. I was in the middle of writing this, and then it deleted all of the stanzas I had  so far. -____-}

You were so strong, so kind, so caring.
Nothing in the world could possibly stop you.
You were invincible.
Yet... Even the strongest of the strong crumbles.

Each day was a war;
Every struggle created by /them/ in order to
Satisfy their fun and fulfill them of their needs.
Inflicting many taunts, many jokes, so many struggles...
Life was a living hell each day wasn't it?

Others ignored your desperate cries for help
In fear that they would be next.
Your screams, echoing loud and clear, were
Swept aside, dying out as your voice grew hoarse and your throat burned.
Only your dreams brought salvation.

Adults won't listen, brushing it off as a cry for attention.
The faculty wants the best school; complaints of bullying won't cut it.
Suddenly, no adult seems... Trustworthy.

Frustrated over everything,
The bullies, the people who ignored your cries,
The adults who chose not to get involved, you wanted it all over.
You took your life.
And now, it is all over.
As Homer once said,
"Now he sleeps at peace forgetful of what he has suffered."

Now everyones eyes are opened.
They see just how bad society was to you,
And now fingers are pointed to just who is at fault.
But... Why must this be seen only after your death?
Why were they so oblivious to your situation even though
They watched it all happen each day?
Why does no one act as the perpetrator, but instead the victim?
Can't they tell they are all at fault?

Although I knew that had happened to you,
I chose to look into the future, ignoring your talk on it... Like the others.
I'm no better than everyone else huh?
I'm sorry.

Words Never Whispered.

{My father died about a year ago. I thought that given the time, I had gotten over it, but I guess not? I'm not quite sure what happened... I just started crying at around 3:30am because of those memories. But I do know one thing: I regret not spending enough time with him. Part of it was because he worked constantly, and another part was because I was still a child; in my childish mind I thought he would never leave, even though I feared death because it had the power to take away my loved ones ever since I was five.}

I built myself to be so strong,
So indestructible under any circumstance.
Yet... Only one memory of you is
Enough to tear me apart.

We weren't close; in fact,
We were rather distanced.
Our conversations were neither
Deep nor meaningful - they were just...
Conversing placed between us.
Back then they were nothing, a daily occurence.
Yet now I hold them valuable,
Praying to never forget them.
If only I treasured them more back then.

The memories I have of you,
So strong yet weak to a certain extent,
Wise beyond your years, yet holding a child-like ease,
Are fleeting away from me.
No longer can I immediately think of your voice, your laugh...
I can only imitate it with uncertainty.

The photos of us together, less than a handful,
Are lost. Why did I not think of taking any?
Why was I so oblivious to this, only recognizing the want to now?

Why weren't we closer?
Was it because you were a workaholic, hoping to gain a better
Life for your children that you pushed us all away?
Or was it because I was a child you regret?
We had our moments, but I just wish there was more.

"I miss you, I love you.
Have a good day.
Good morning, good night."
Simple phrases that I miss saying... To you.
What onced seemed like a ritual is now
A want, a desire to be done.
I wish you could hear me, see me.
Then I could tell you all the things I had wanted to say,
All the things I keep bottled up, trapped, inside, me.
But now that can never be.
Now I can never say these words to you,
No matter how hard I try.

Acquaintance.

We aren't friends.

We are just acquaintances with a background.

In the past, the times we

Spent together were times to be valued,

But now that we've both grown up, our

Friendship has deteriorated into nothingness.

It may have been memorable in the past,
But now with the passing times and

Changing seasons, our time became wasted.

Maybe it was my fault, or was it yours?

No... It was both our faults; we let this happen, 

Knowing the consequences.

We let go of the one strand of friendship we

Both had left for each other, letting it fall downwards,

Into the deep abyss.

Whenever I look back at our times together,

A pang will appear in my heart but I will be able to brush it away.

But the regret and memories will always surface

Whenever I see your face.

The face of a mere person I used to

Be close to.

Fear.

{Sometimes I wish I wasn't blood related to my sister. When I was younger, she would call me rude names, get mad at me for the dumbest things, ignore and yell at me for talking to her, scream her head off when I brushed my hand against her, and looked at me with eyes that shouted that I should have never been born. Now she expects me to have a positive outlook on the following weeks with her. How do I do that to someone who treated me as an animal? My self esteem is already in the negatives thanks to her and I can't smile a genuine smile. But when I try to blame all this on her, I can't. Maybe I should have never been born...}

To separate one's self from others

Is an act to be alone, to be apart from them.

But in reality, all they ever want is to be with someone.

In order to not get hurt, in order to

Not get attached to others, pushing them

Away is the best thing to do.

But in reality, I just...

I don't want to be alone.

Next to You.

{HOT GIRLS WE GOT PROBLEMS TOO, WE'RE JUST LIKE YOU EXCEPT WE'RE HOT. /Shot, killed, butchered, and thrown away.}

Your glance follows her, trailing her every move.

A smile that's never shown to others, is shown

When you talk to her.

Please don't say that you don't love her.

It's obvious by the way you act.

I should know; I've always looked your way.

It hurts to see this sad, sad truth be unveiled.

But... As long as you're happy, I'm happy... Right?

Although others can live with that, it will always

Be a lie in my mind.

Truth be told, I'd rather be the one beside you,

Walking side by side, harmonizing in footsteps.

But alas, it was never meant to be.

I may curse the two of you to oblivion, cry my

Eyes out to get over this, yet still manage to

Smile when you two are around... But in truth...

I just want to be next to you.

Is that so much to ask?

Happy Endings.

{I'm too negative for my own good.}

He likes her, you like him.
Just the way the story goes.
No happy endings or a sudden
Twist of fate caused by a meeting.
And that's the way it has always been.
A story that involves a broken heart.

If only this story could be tweaked
And edited to fit the desired outcome.
Maybe then a happy ending will form.
In an unjust world, stories like this
Appear all the time; whether we like it or not.
You like him, yet he likes her.
Just what is this unhappy ending?

Identity.

Just who am I?
Is this smile really real?
Or is it just a facade, put on
In order to "fit in" with the others?

Although everyone is "smiling",
Just how many of those people smile
A genuine smile?
How many of them can truly say that
They are always happy when smiling?

Through today's society and life,
A fake smile is always around.
Are you one of the holders of
That type of smile?

If you...

{I... I think I did good on the audition. @w@. That, or the teacher loves to give mixed signals. xD}

No matter what, I'll always be

Your follower, helping you in

The best way I can for you to

Find your success.

If you become a hideous creature,

I'll follow you, looking for a cure.

If you become a star, I'll

Look for different ways to catch up

To your ever glowing hue.

If you decide to leave me in order

To follow your dreams and to

Seek your fortune, so be it.

I won't stop you from leaving me... Us.

But just know that I'll always

Follow you, even to the depths of Hell and back.

Maybe we grew apart during our

Time together; we found out how the other

Truly acts and how the other truly feels.

Or maybe we just didn't connect as we thought we did.

What ever the reasoning, it won't ever change

The feelings that I feel, and have always felt, for you.

If you become a an elderly man,

I'll become your elderly woman.

If you get married to the woman you love and... She isn't me,

Then that's fine. I'll be your first supporter.

Just... Remember to smile.

Atmosphere.

Do I belong here?
In an environment filled with
People I'm acquainted with,
Why do I feel so out of place?

Maybe they have more bonds
With each other than I will ever have,
Or maybe it's that through this
Short period of time they've been
Together, they are closer than
I am to any of them.

Should I try to be closer to them
With this meek and shy demeanor?
Or should I just stay here,
Alone in my own atmosphere?

Behind the Smile.

{I just got back from my school field trip! It was such an amazing experience to be able to go camping, something I'd never done before. : ). I never did realize how dependent I was of things such as showers though... OTL.}

Behind this smile I'm
Breaking down and sobbing.
No matter how much I
Show a happy expression,
I can't change my feelings inside.

Why must this happen to
Only me when everyone else gets away?
Is it because life hates me,
Or is this how I have to atone for my sins?

Should I keep faking my personality
So that society can accept me?
Or should I be myself, even more
Isolated from everyone else?

When can I truly smile a
Happy smile, and feel
Like myself?

What Am I?

You use me everyday,
Yet you fail to give me recognition
For my efforts.
Although I'm the one to put up with
The struggles and frustrations you have,
Although I'm the one to take your
Anger and mistakes in whole,
Why am I never recognized?
Am I really just
A piece of paper to you?

Protection

A child isn't ignorant of bad news or

A dying relative.

As mush as you like

To keep the child in the dark about that, 

The truth comes out.

And when it does

The news coming from others and not

The one who "protects" the child

Hurts the child more.

It causes trust issues,

And the feeling of not being able

To depend on

The protector at all.

No  matter how much you try,

Protecting the child from horrendous news

Is something that

Is done in vain.