Somewhere along the way, I forgot how
Aloneness likes to be loved.
Your absence shouting its presence,
my mind answers with thoughts, uncalled for,
like a million ugly bees buzzing near my ear,
so many ideas - all of them broken, grotesque and oozing fear,
like a house accepting roaches
after its lights turn off,
like a stream gushing through,
hoping to end in a peaceful shore.
Sadly, all it ends up in-
a rotting flesh of waste choking the mouth of a river.
At times like this, I realize
all my life, all I've done is substitute -
a thought for a task,
a roach for a chore,
a bee for a movie,
an idea for an errand.
— % &Maybe I never forgot -
I guess I never learnt how to love the Alone.
I merely used you - my safety net,
to gather my rot
and hide it from your heart -
lest it finds out.
At times like this, I am ashamed -
this life I live,
this life I live
counts for nothing without you.
This life I live,
is afraid to be in the same room
with me, alone, one of its own.
It tells me - I'm not enough. — % &For me, I'm not enough?
And what if,
one day, I cannot substitute?
If I just will not substitute?

Surely the bees will take my head.
Maybe the roaches, my legs.
(If it's not too much to ask)
At least, would the rest of me
rest in the aloneness of the sea? — % &

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Someday,
All that you will have left are memories. Make sure to make good ones this year.

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We're staying for 2023!
Tbh, I have been feeling very guilty for not being active on YQ. It feels like I've been contributing to YQ's suffering. So, I'm going to be here for 2023, watch as many ads possible and try to gift. I really hope I can give back something...

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It's when your arm smoothes over my skin,
and I wish this one moment in time
takes over the entire whole of my life.

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This year,
I'd like to make a promise,
and not break it...

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These days, I'm not writing much. Or, at all. But, every time I feel sad or broken, I open this app to write.

I cannot figure out if my mind finds writing comforting or if my words come out only when there is darkness.

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instead of growing out his beard, he just wears beard extensions now.

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worship,
what I'd believed to be stones;
question,
what I'd thought to be set in stone;
try,
what I'd believed I'll never try before;
and cry,
wishing you had stayed,
a little longer and some more.

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and when you leave someday,
memories are all you'll be,
memories are all you'll have.

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They shouted his name.
She turned.

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