Not the type to log in to Facebook.
Hates seeing dramas.
Recently,
The reason was only one.
And until then,
I don't know.

That moment when you realized you liked someone more than you should,
Or probably has fallen into the most pathetic state ever,
Which is called "fallen in love".
And your reaction is;
"Fuck."

I Killed Her.

When I entered the room,
I realized the mask I've been wearing,
Is starting to break,
The edges become fragile,
The colors fading away,
And the little girl I've desperately trying to protect,
Is slipping away.

When I leave the room,
I wear that mask again,
Again and again,
Because I am afraid,
If people will hurt that shadow I've been protecting.

Sometimes I see her,
Crying and screaming,
Bruising and scarred,
Shivering in fear,
Cradling a dead heart beat,
Eyes fluttering,
Hands calloused,
A soul dying.

I turn away,
I wanted to be the one to bury her,
And wear this mask for the rest of my life,
This way,
I'll save her,
From everyone,
From everything,
Because she can no longer feel anything.

But as days passed by,
The doubts creeping by,
I was choking her,
Killing her,
And trying to resuscitate her back,
But she's limping,
Limbs flailing,
Almost gone.

Leggo his friggin' ego, he's preggo. 

"You have a strange way of wording things." 

I know, it's a sickness. 

"And here I thought you couldn't be anymore weirder." 

Dude. Seriously?

If It's About Survival

If it's about survival, isn't a little agony worth it?

"There's something wrong here. Something wrong with the way you bring yourself."
"Yeah, it's the evident of insanity."

Everyone has it, but no one can lose it. What is it? What is it?
I DON'T KNOW!!!
"A shadow, Vet."

Lately I've been waking up and forgetting who I am.
Sometimes I forgot to eat,
And it escalates to the point where sleep is also forgotten.
If you look too close you'll see my hallways are full of caution signs.

I'd be good at drowning.

I used to think that the worst feeling in the world was losing someone you loved,
But I was wrong.

The worst feeling is the moment that you realize,
You've lost yourself.

Am I losing the war?
Have I gone deep beneath the abyss?
If you're drowning, 
And you're trying to keep your mouth closed until that very last moment,
What if you choose to not open your mouth?
More time to fight your way to the surface?
More time to be rescued?
More time to be in agonizing pain.
You'd do it anyway, it's gag reflex.

WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP, ANA...

Drabble (No, Not Actually)

He walks toward the little girl playing with her twin, both unaware of his presence.
She is giggling beautifully while pulling her brother's hands in circles.

She has his eyes, deep lush green that penetrates the deep of the forest.
Small upturned nose and thick lips that for sure will break many men's hearts in the future.
Dark hair passing through her shoulders in series of wavy locks,
Clearly from the mother.
He could see himself in her,
The mini-him, female version.

She is so beautiful.

The boy has dark, brown eyes and straight dark hair, like his.
But his features are softer than his sister,
And the man's heart hitched a little when he hears the boy's laughter.
He laughs like his mother.

He is perfect.
They both are.

He unconsciously held out his hands,
Itching to feel that they are real, not a figment of his imagination.

"Don't."

A cold voice from behind startles him. He was used to silence for a long time, but her voice jolted him out from his trance. He turns around and see her, after 4 years and age has been kind to her.
She still looks the same.

Except that she is a mother now.

A mother to his children.

 "You left." His voice is calm, but there are no accusation in it. Just a statement. There is no small, awkward greetings, they never did that before, why start now? It is better to get this over with. But she doesn't look guilty or even flinched from his words.

"I had to leave. To protect them." She stares at him, eye level. She is different from the girl he'd known 4 years ago, motherhood changes her.

"They are mine." He knows this, he sensed it when he first saw them playing by the meadow. But he needs to hear it from her, to finalize the feelings that has been tingling within him.

She took a deep breath, glancing towards her children, oblivious of their mother and the stranger.

"Yes."

He sighed internally, this is a lot harder than he had ever imagined it to be, and he had caused this.

"I want to know everything. Tell me everything."

"No, because even if they're yours biologically, they are mine. Mine alone. You cannot barge in demanding like this. Don't come when everything is good when the time I was suffering you weren't there." Her voice is low, but sharp and meant to hurt.

"Please," he pleads.

She stills, her features freeze and he sees her rubbing the back of her hair absentmindedly. It is one of her gestures when she is anxious or seconds from having panic attacks. He knows that too well to memorize all her body languages. But the girl, woman standing in front of him has better self-possession than the girl he knew. She tries to inhale and somehow calms herself up.

"They were pre-mature babies. At 36th week, the placenta has detached. The babies weren't getting any oxygen and stuck. They cut me open so that they won't asphyxiate and die. And I was badly hemorrhaging, it took 18 hours to end it all. " She calmly states, as if telling him the weather. He flinches slightly at the information, knowing that she almost die, they almost die, all of them.

"You're okay?" He whispers, voice trembling. She looks at him sheepishly, with a subtle hint of annoyance.

"Do I look dead to you?" She retorts with a small sarcasm in her voice. She has always been like that. Too straightforward and honest, it annoys people. He chuckles lightly, relieved to see there is some parts of her still there, even after all these years.

"Ibu!"

Their conversation is cut from the toddlers, running toward their mother in series of giggles and laughter. Her features quickly softens as she opens up her arms to squish two laughing kids and blows raspberry in their cheeks. His heart drops to a thud, seeing them, Seeing what should have been his.

He knows she won't let him in easily, knows that she has been broken before him, and all he ever did was adding a new scar to her old ones. But no matter how, he is determined not to fuck things up again.

She held her babies, nicknaming them from her favorite novel and glancing briefly at the man watching her and the kids. Of course, she could be selfish. Shutting him out again and never letting him come close to the children, but she knows they need their father, despite having a handful of uncles and aunts to smother them with love, every single day. She would let him in, step by step, into the kids' lives. But not hers. Her heart is frozen to anyone except for Widget and Poppet, as everyone calls them.

Different Worlds

We live in separate worlds

Me and you

We can never be together

We are opposites of one another

One is dark the other light

One filled with grief

One filled with laughter

One is dark the other light

You love the sun

Its ray spread joy

I love the moon

It is the root of many nightmares

Out separate worlds

Will collide from time to time

They will never be one

Forever be two

Feeling Frankenstein

Your darkness fills up my soul,
You've stitched together my flesh and bone,
Pleasure and pain have become one,
Under your black sky, there is no sun,
A glance in the mirror takes me back,
Only dead eyes seem to stare back,
A sick smile disfigures my features,
Why have you created this monstrous creature?

Tragic Endings

Trudging through the filth of this world,
Trying to find some beauty out of this poison,
In every family there is one who is different,
One who cannot seem to grasp hold of reality,
One who wishes to escape the pain of their existence,
One who decides to end this all.

Whispers or mumblings of words unheard,
A ghost of her former self she stands there,
By a mausoleum she picks a flower,
One single withering lily,
One rotting corpse,
One lonely girl.

Stay

They're here.
They won't leave.
But they won't stay for long.

1 year.

1 year and I'll lose them.
I'll lose them to whatever fate decides for us.
And I won't find another like them.

I'm scared.

Because as much as I won't admit it out loud,
You guys are my anchor.
The only good thing that ever happened to me since I came here.
The only constant in my life.
And the sole reason I'm still recognizably sane.

I'm scared that here will only be the place we have our memories and not creating new ones after we graduated. I'm scared.

You stand still,
Smelling the air around you,
The damp earth and fresh-cut grass,
And rot of things new and unspoken of,
Things being born,
Things being raised from the Earth.

But not before you,
Before you is your own.

One of the few that you love.

Pesky and annoying and bossy and ever so bittersweet,
One who you loved to hate and hated to love,
But did anyway.

You've lost everything important to you,
And it's all your fault,
For being stupid enough to fall for that.

Your subconscious is stuck behind the idea that it is entirely your fault.

It's all your fault. You're the one to blame.

Loneliness sinking to the depths of your soul.
It's your punishment,
Your atonement,
Your life all wrapped in one.

You hate them because they made you happy,
And you don't want to be happy.
You even admit to yourself ;
You'd rather drown in your anger and pity than do anything else.

Why do you do this?
Why are you always surrounded by deaths?
Why can't you just be.... normal?

You wonder why the earth around you can be so happy 
When everything you love is being ripped away from you.

You spend more time brooding.
There is no longer anything here for you.

Can darkness turn to light?

 So many bad things happened here.
You've been waiting to smile.

What do you do when you don't know what to do?
What if everything that you thought you believe just disappear in one second?

You want to run away but you can't.
You want to be okay but you are not.
Life is not easy and never will be.

Nothing compares to the difficulty of saying goodbye to your past.

How does it feel to gain something back just to lose it again?
Painful, isn't it?

there are so many gap holes and scars it might be a normal thing to do to wrap yourself in a blanket full of agony and wishes the world would just fade away.

"You're pulling it all together."
No, I don't. I don't have it all. 
I'm falling apart
That is, 
If you look closely.

Of The Word L.O.V.E.

I've never have the confidence or need to talk about love.

Maybe because all these times,

I was so fixated on scars,

Hurts,

Darkness,

Depressions.

That I think love finally shies away from me.

That I don't deserve it anymore.

But then,

There are wants,

And needs.

And desperation.

Of Malays

Or Meleis (as I would call them).

I see, hear and read,

Their lips fall into motions when it comes to clarifying their love.

It is so easy to say "I love you"

As if saying "How do you do"

And I think,

The easier the words rolled out from their tongue,

The less it means.

Of "others"

By defining others,

Is they don't live in Malaysia.

I'm not saying my view on the world is large enough,

But at the very least I am aware of it.

They have the inability to be inconspicuous. 

Even when the relationship has exceeded 10 years,

The three words that needed to be said is so difficult.

And when one finally admit to succumb,

It was real.

And I wanted it.

They say actions speak louder than words.

But words left unsaid will leave the trace meaningless.

But it doesn't mean it has to be said frequently.

I am a broken person.

Not so happy.

But calm enough to oblige.

In a world where everything is fiction,

I find solace.

Sometimes a comrade.

Those who suffers like I do.

And that's why I realize why I am attracted to Derek and Will.

They're both broken.

We're broken.

And there are others out there who found their anchor,

Their savior.

I don't wait.

I am far beyond help.

But I still reach out,

Hoping for a grasp of hands.

A Little Distraction (Which Will Eventually Turns Into Something More)

HANNIGRAM!!!!
From the English series Hannibal TV.
Pairing is the cannibal lead character, Doctor Hannibal Lecter and Special Agent Will Graham.
By Mads Nikkelsen and Hugh Dancy.

I fear this is the endgame.
Where nothing is rational anymore.
The closest thing to "LOVE" is divine. 
Some feeling that come from another realm,
A feeling that bound two people in ways no one in this world would ever understand.

How would you love a person who views the world in a cannibalistic world yet still sees the broken you with tender eyes and full of love?

I somehow,

Can understand Will.

Maybe because we're both broken.

Heh.

I must be THAT crazy.

Dark!Stiles

"I came back for you. Now please, come back to me."

I am a messed up, fucked up little shit because of that person.
Every single moment spent praying,
Wanting,
Screaming for a help.
For someone to repair me.

Weddings Season. But Not About Wedding (it's about my frustration towards it)

Oh jeez, it's THAT time of the year.
Where everywhere is free food,
And newlyweds everywhere.
And single people like me are being pestered by our aunts and uncles,
"When will be your time?"
"You're 22 already, got a nice career upfront, how's about a husband?"
"You, kakak Tasnim and Aten are catching up to Kak Tati next year right?"

GOD, YOU PEOPLE MAKES ME WANT TO SHOVE YOUR HANDS INTO YOUR FRICKIN' LOUD MOUTHS!!

Well, Kakak Tasnim won't be too bothered by this (since she already has a suitor don't let her read this, she'll kill me).
But me and our other cousin,
We are in the same boat.
At least with her going to Cambodia for practical would be better to see the world.

Me?
I'm stuck in Terengganu with an ex for our Yang diPertua. 
Great.
So great.

Sometimes I realized that I was the one who didn't want to move on.
I was bitter.
Angry.

And other times I want to be happy.
Starts pacing forward,
Not backward.

And with all these weddings surrounding us,
Mum and Dad also tried to bring the subject up.
And at the mention of "Amir" and "Ricchan",
They won't stop.

BUT MOTHER OF MINE AND FATHER OF MINE,
PLEASE HEAR YOUR DAUGHTER'S OPINION OUT.

First,
Amir is my brother.
My twin,
And you don't look at your other half in lust,
That is just like incest.

Second,
Ricchan,
Well,
Although he can accept me and likewise,
I didn't really approve the way he sees the world,
His frequent needs to curse at literally everything,
His musics,
Just basically,
I don't think we are the birds of the same flocks.

"Well then, what's your standards?"
Well,
Mother of mine.

As for religion,
All that blah blah about him being the good servant of God,
That's a NEED.
But from my personal view,
I want someone who can understand ME.
Someone who laughs at my jokes ( Lord knows no one except my baby sis understands it),
Someone who isn't threatened by my weird shippings,
Someone who can discuss and argue with me intellectually,
Someone who also reads books,
Someone who I can share my world.

And frankly,
I don't think that someone exists.