I'm not sorry.

Sometimes I'm so angry I just want to get up and leave the lot of people who have hurt me, but I love them, so sometimes I want to be many things to them too. And this is one of those times. Sometimes I want to be a sister, a mother, for the longest time a lover but above all, may I be a friend? A friend who will never hurt and even if I do, without any bitter intention to. I am so careless with my actions, I know, but not my intentions especially when I set them solely on you. I know who I have hurt and I don't lay my head down on my pillow every night without the thoughts hitting the bed first. These thoughts are like raindrops that patter down and they patter down like a thousand little rocks. They try to stone me. So I try to sleep but I can only stare and ask the ceiling why you let me be, why you let things be, because I was so sincere and such a jealous little thing that I cried quite hard. If you thought you were a prize, well, I am too. When I cry now, though, it all feels different because now, I cry when I miss my lovely boy. I can't be happier knowing that you will make the effort to fight for me because none of them did, love. And even so, I had to fight to seek it out myself and they took my patience for granted. Just things lurking at the back of my head; this fury that I refuse to chase although my subconscious is elbowing me in the chest to resolve matters. I'm sorry I let the past get to me and this is the only thing I'm sorry for, nothing else. No, I am not sorry for anything else. (Of course I'm sorry I almost blinded you with the umbrella on our walk up!) My birthday was spent so nicely. I am always reassured whenever I re-read haiku you wrote for me and your eyes when you sleep. I just want your lashes hawhaw. The sequined pouch smells like you and I wonder if it is its natural smell because if it is, I am so lucky to carry you with me. I will keep that letter forever. I wasn't very excited for this birthday but you made it very nice. Effort goes such a long way, all the way to Cluny Court and back to Dover station again. Swear a thousand fireworks exploded in my heart when I read those words, I'm exaggerating I know, but it did feel like it. Dear God, give me patience and love for the harsh words people say to me and the strength to never lose to life. Help me adore the weak and the strong alike, and to love my body the way You made it to be. Grant me the answers to my burning questions so I may make my peace with you. I never want to be indifferent. Don't spit me out, it is not very nice. Amen

reign over me

I am eighteen and I am Yours.
I have walked with the spirit of shame.
And now it's gone, I can see that You've always been walking beside me, holding my heart all along when shame took hostage of it.
I remember Lifeng's prayer for me last year that shattered me inside.
She said that she saw no light but she saw Your staff guiding me.
And this is where all my faith is set upon.

The fact that no matter how far I've walked this journey of life, I am Yours.
And not sin's.

Did you know???
Things like that make me want to cut my breasts off.

high for this

I wonder if it's going to be another rainy day again.
I am wearing the wrong bra and the wrong feeling today.
I feel like breaking my feet and throwing all my clothes off and go running, stark naked into arms that I've always known.
Today I don't think I can take anything unkind anyone throws at me; I am almost too sure that I will bite back and not let go.
The house and my shoes were evil to me today because things went walking; things were everywhere and time was screaming at me.
But I'm going home tonight to say sorry for treating them so meanly and selfishly.
My wallet should not take the hurt either.
I don't know, I don't know, I'm just so tired but now I can smell you and I am happy all over again.
Life is so hurried and you slow me down.
So, so.

I think I miss my parents.
Last night I was walking and listening to Clean Up Your Eyes and as the music went on and on, I heard a ghostly manly voice call my name over and over again.
Which made me very paranoid about whether my Dad is okay overseas.
Dear papa and mama:
I dream of you two holding hands strolling down cobble-stoned streets without a care in the world but with all the care for each other. And know this is what it's like to be in love, this is what it's like to be on holiday and this is what it's like to be missing our daughter at home. "This is the life I've worked for to share with you:, "this is the man I love like my own father and he is my husband; he takes care of me", "she loves me, not my money, and I know it is real", "there is true love because there is you" and really, I know there is a forever and there is a God and there is true love because I look at you guys and it's all there.
This is where all my passion to love comes from, I could lay myself down and abandon it all to learn it inside out.
How intricate the smooth vines of affection really are and just to finger the bulbous, swollen tips of its fruit gently to give it life through orgasm and purity at the same time.

I miss my parents.
Sometimes while I watch TV I imagine being all alone in the world, like they are gone with their bodies broken down into ash kept in clay jars at the temple and I bask in that moment.
I look around at my home and peer into the cabinet with my mama's precious china from all over the world, crystal figures and carefully painted ornaments, feel the carpet with my toes through and through... And I wonder what would change if they were really gone, how would I fight to stay alive - do I have to survive or can I still live?
Would I have to live under someone else's rules and live with a burden strapped to my chest and wallet most of the time?
Would I ever have to make the effort of visiting my relatives every Chinese New Year and constantly be constructing a face for society to see, to talk to?
Would I ever, again, have privacy the way I do now, know what it's like to save money for the future and oh, all these that come along with this new reality.
Above all, I know that losing the privileges will be okay with me but to live under another's authority... no.
To have someone breathe down my back upon making my every move in life.
But yknow, if it happens, it must mean I am ready for it.
Anyway, I miss them, I really do.

I am so in love with ideas of the Baroque era that I imagine my fats to be of gold sometimes- this world does not affect me unless you give me words that cut and your words are the only ones I live by.
I know I am weak this way, I know I am the only one I have but I am one with you...so hello :)
Evening is setting in and I am happier now.

something like that

I hope you achieve everything you think is "noble".
I look at all things wrong- What is right without wrong?
Yes, you guessed it, I am saying I am right.
Who the hell are you to question my morals or who I love- whom I never had to tire my effort or quiet nights out for?
I wasted many tears and jealous dreams for you.
This is my happy and this is my territory.
It is good that you are furious, I will continue sinking my teeth into thick meat and look straight through your gaze seething with all your, um, pain and all your.... what's that word. Oh. 'Hurt'.
Hmmmmm.....
Fuck hurt.

I am not the type to turn the other cheek- you are not worth it.
You, chauvisnistic thing, you should have kissed me.
I laid out my affection like a feast for your greed and when it wasn't enough I let my blood run dry, so much so that it has stained my notebooks and memory.
But that had to happen so I could see through you.
Don't come around to tell me I didn't feel enough, don't tell me I would have worked for you if only it was enough.
Enough enough, what is enough from me when enough from you was pixie dust.
Do you know how that feels? Do you know what pixie dust is?
It's bullshit.
It was a thread and bastard, you hung me high.
I fought well but now I am empty handed. Do you think you are God?
Because I have lived enough to believe that these hands deserve gold and these hands deserve the words "not a mite will I withhold". I deserve to be fearless for, strong for, brave for and you are none of that.
Don't ask me not to change, don't ask me not to neglect you if you have showed me the most contradiction I have ever seen in years- the friends I choose to keep close do not have faces that split at the eyes or sunken, black cheeks. (do you know they give you away?)
Of course I hover around, of course I am fleeting with all my lust and the 'love' I proclaim.
But I will show you that I am fleeting enough to stay.
Stay stay what a disgusting twist you have attached to it.
So don't, DON'T push the blame on someone else.
You should be faithful and you should tear your ego right down to your feet.
If you see that it's filthy, well, it is.
What I have is pure and what I have right now is a blessing- I will not let you pollute it.
This is no matter of pride, this is about wrong and right.
You are wrong.
I am right.
Strike my right cheek, strike it harder because my left side will be hollow.

cave me in cave us out

It's like the seconds try their very best to cautiously creep past but they can't escape because a moment captures them and they have to freeze.
In those moments I break and these swollen bags release tears. Well I thought these eyes could be trusted but they are not safe; they throw drop by drop off the brink then off another one and another and another.
I am an enemy and bane to my own self, I am tired of existing just to kill myself this way.
My self hinders me from living.
I can't cling, I can't stick, I belong but sometimes I doubt human love.
What is ever enough.
Tonight I am not content and that is just the way things go.
I will sleep now, unashamed, yet so uncontrollably hot in the face.

I'm not obliged to give you my attention but I want to.
I want to show you that I still care.
Sorry I made you wait long.
I hope you will be kind.