messyshein

Hiccups on recovery make the whole recovery ten times more harder. In days that you feel like you resurfaced and finally filled your lungs with air- fucking hiccups will drag you down and leave you gasping again.

The cruel cycle of wins and loses. Of feeling like a burden and disappointment. Of losing opportunities and hope. Now you tell me, how do you stay afloat?

Yesterday, I saw myself running away again. From people that i care the most. And to find comfort in places I never even knew. Yesterday, I got tired of doing the right thing. Of breathing and patiently waiting. Yesterday, I lost it all.

So this morning, I even questioned why my eyes even opened. Why am I still breathing. Why did I not jumped off the bridge.

as i sit here, i imagine how you see me

or if you see me at all

and at this very hour

the view from my shoulders are empty

i watch closely how the bubbles form

and the clear water is close to the rim

i patiently waited

and just like falls the water overflowed

oh, how beautiful it is

to go up as much as you can and be free

then it stopped

rush abruptly disturbed by drought

i woke up to my senses

and let my hair fall

He painted his muse in strong pigments.

Harsh strokes and white lies.

"She's my problematic subject"

As she supposed to look pretty while being a mess.

He drew her lips in pure color of doubts.

He drew her eyes that looks glassy it reflected the sky.

He drew her arms with crisp lines.

He drew his muse in the most gruesome way.

Women should look pretty even in pain.

And women should always cat fight only with other women.

While men play the games they play all day,

Women have to figure out their hearts in bay.

The muse jumped out of the canvas.

Confronted the audience who stayed in the background

In shock and disgust, the audience murmured around the muse

"just go back to the canvas where you belong"

So she stayed still trying to be an optimist

But realized the strokes are getting harsher on her skin

With revenge plotted on her mind

Let the painter be eaten oh his own guilt.

This is one of the days when I feel guilty just for existing.

I had my first cup of coffee this morning. Sitting beside my bed, back straight and trying to stretch my neck- I'm trying to remember the dream I just had.

With closed eyes, all I remember is the familiar darkness of my old room. It smells like coffee and a song is playing on the background.

"So sad, so sad. I can never make you stay."

I see myself crossed-leg with laptop on my lap. My face is empty as always but my eyes looks busy.

I walked near her. Looking also at the screen and seeing that I'm busy organizing my emails.

Then I heard her gasp.

"Too bad, too bad. I can never walk away"

I opened my eyes. Abruptly.

This is all I know.

The constant guilt of losing people because of my mistakes.

So today, I'm doing my best to stay away.

From people. From going outside, and from buying a blade.

Staying away from this guilt.

Staying away from my demons.

Staying away from ending it all.

But also, this is all I know.

The constant battle.

And the tight grip of this nightmare to my reality.

—for my lewd love for art

and my eyes seems to love the lust

of the boldness of a human nakedness

Two naked bodies

—in a bed with cloud covering up until the ceiling

she looks innocent after the coming

but the glow of pleasure is still written

Two naked women

—“a sin of Eves” as I like to call it

when they call women a sinners from beginning

but the breasts was loved by men

Is it really a beautiful mistake

To love a same gender in this universe

And to find out that love is not always gentle

And can be found within thrusts and kisses

Still two naked bodies

—forgive me for I have sinned

but it’ll always be the mistake I’ll give in

and will always do it

To look at the sun with tears on your cheeks

To feel the comfortable burn it gives

To let your shadows eat you alive for a while.

Cry it out loud.

Honey, go cry it out loud.

Say your prayers in tears.

Say your wishes in dim.

And may the sun bless you with her sunshine—

For tomorrow, you can rise again.

//shadows//

I find it rude to reply “no” whenever someone asks me if I’m fine.

So I tend to keep it in, absorb it and went through my day feeling less worthy of the love I see.

I think of it as something I’ll never reach. Like a wolf howling for the moon’s love.

And this is one of the days that I’ll be looking at my shadow, breathe in it’s secretive shape and love that it doesn’t show the frown in my face.

I just exist.

And I hope it’s enough for today.

i will make my own happy place.

because the sun shines and then says goodbye for the moon to watch over sleeping humans.

i’m not running late, my time will come.

i will be home someday.

—messyshein