\realist\

I know I'm selfish
but sometimes -
I want someone whose world revolves around me
whose eyes don't get distracted by other queens
whose heart doesn't melt at another princess' distress
whose ears only listen to my tales
who feels me when I'm mad -
or sad, or even glad.

I know it's selfish -
but I want to be the Sun
with a planet who loyally revolves around me,
who doesn't squint at the hint of my brightness,
or run from the droplets of fire
that constantly falls apart from my soul.

I know it's surreal -
but sometimes I want to stop being broken
I want to be whole
Free of the chains of jealousy,
of envy,
of wanting the world to be better.

I want to be someone -
who's worthy of keeping your heart
not someone who constantly
burns it to ashes
rips it into pieces
or breaks it like a glass slipper.

At the end of the day -
I just want to be a dreamer.
I want to see the world not as it is,
but as what it could be.
I want to see the world
through the eyes of a child,
where everything's beautiful - colorful -
because it sucks being a realist.
A realist doesn't get to feel like a princess.

I know I'm selfish -
but I want to feel like a princess,
even if it's only in my wildest dreams.

Vol IV. Utopia

What went so wrong with our generation
that we constantly chase for
something that's never-ending

                 love

                 wealth

                 happiness

   the three titles we constantly strive for
   those we spend days and nights
   not living our life to the fullest
   just for the sake of that promise --
that faint promise,
that one day everything's gonna be just fine
                                                    a bliss
                                                       utopia

What went so wrong with our generation

that we spend our seconds

searching for that one true love

   instead of loving each other --
   practicing the love that we've been given for free.

   spreading kindness --
   in a world where stars can barely sparkle.

   giving warmth --
   to those who can barely get a glimpse
                                                   -- of utopia.


What went so wrong with our generation
that we can't live free --

   constantly living under shackles
   of heartache
       money
       sadness

even though our sins have been paid for.


Let's be a generation --
         who shares the Truth in every conversation
         whose lips are so sweet
                    they speak prayers in every sound.

Let's be a generation --
         who strives to build a dreamland
         for others to live in --
                                     our loved ones
                                     our young ones
                                     ourselves.

Let's be a generation --
         who appreciates the world as it is.
         who acknowledges that utopia
                                         only exists in the afterlife.
                                         -- right after we complete our mission

to save the world.

Vol III. Reminiscence

I miss drinking.

Not something I'm too proud of admitting, but I do miss the idea of a good party.

I miss losing control of my faculties.

I miss the blurry sight after a few shots in.

I miss letting my body move on its own to the blinking purple lights.

I miss the idea of forgetting my responsibilities.

I miss being the center of attention.

Maybe it's not the actuality of drinking that I miss, just the sense of freedom, of not being pushed into one narrow open door, of not knowing what tomorrow will bring.

Of high school.
Of college.
Of the sense of independency.
Of nostalgia.

Maybe it's not the actuality of drinking that I miss so much, just the feeling of when I could go any direction the wind blows.

But now,
it's time to grow up.
No more parties,
time to grow up.

Vol II. Next Chapter

So if sadness brings me clarity
the way the rain clears off the dust of the day,
maybe this jar of clay that I’m made of
can one day be mold into something
better than I could ever imagine, or someone -
better than I could ever dream of.

And at the end of the day,
if your Truth brings me tears just to clear off the dust of the lies,
I’d rather have you a million more times,
than live a thousand pretentious joyful lives
with someone who only lies.

Vol I. Polar Opposites

If rain is the symbolism of sadness,
why do they help the flowers grow?
If paper helps the children learn,
why is there no infinite supply of trees?

If rainbows are meant to be beautiful,
why does it only come out after the rain?
If rivers are meant to flow to the sea,
how is it fair for them to just, disappear?

If love is such a struggle,
what could we possibly fight for?
If happy ending is the end goal,
would you eventually stop chasing after me?

You and me,
it used to be such a ridiculous tone
to even think about finding
my polar opposite.

Someone to calm my storms
when the clouds weather,
Someone to make me laugh
when my body and soul feel like a feather

If opposites really do attract, but eventually repel,
I’d rather have you by my side
than be someone I romanticise.

When I told you I love you with all my life,
what more could I possibly say to convince you?
And if one day you ask me to be your wife,
what more could I possibly ask for?