It isn’t death that scares her

Walking this cruel world

like a living dead

alone, feeling unloved,

and unwanted

is far more terrifying





In the middle of that rainy night

all the words that

carved the pain in her chest

came all the way back to her head


The picture of his face

brought back those bitter memories

made of tears, bruises,

and pain


That night she cried in silence

whilst those words stabbed her

over and over

Punched her until she felt

every inch of her body bruised




Clouds Above My Head

Some people believe in God, some others don’t. Some people believe in hope, some others don’t. Some people believe that someday the clouds above their heads will be gone, replaced by the sun. The day when they can finally smile and wipe their tears off; they called it happiness—something that I do not believe in. Call me sad; call me depressive, I don’t mind. Because the fact is, I am.

Yes, I have seen better days, I wouldn’t deny the fact that I was born in a beautiful family. I have the most beautiful parents who love me unconditionally. I was a happy kid that would smile even when I got into a bunch of trouble. The keyword is, ‘was’. Even if happiness does exist, I know—we all know—it doesn’t last long.

I don’t know exactly when these clouds of sadness started to cover my head, but since then, all I know is, my head is filled by sorrow—let alone my soul. I became a person that no one wants to be friends with; because I am too depressed to socialize. Well, that sounds kind of exaggerating though, I admit. But there was time when I literally had zero friends because I was just too tired of that so called ‘friendship’ knowing the fact that people who claimed to be my ‘friends’ happens to be the worst, fake human beings that I wish I’d never met.

But people change, and so do I. I went to college and started to realise that I need to have friends. And what I learned is, sometimes you just have to fake it for good. Now I have a whole bunch of friends/family/lover that I don’t like—I even hate some of them because I just cannot stand their behaviour. And those ones that I hate the most, ironically are the ones that I also love the most. But I am still here for them. I would do whatever it takes to make them happy even sometimes I failed and they blamed me for not being ‘good enough’ to make them happy. And what hurts the most is, they can’t see—or refuse to see—everything that I had to sacrifice for them.

I thought that could not get any worse, but I was wrong. I thought, because I would—and I had—sacrifice so many things for them, I can rely on them or at least get a hug when I got hurt. In their eyes, I’m just the ‘could’ve been, should’ve been, would’ve been, never was, and never ever will be’. And I get to keep the anger, sadness, and disappointment to myself because no one cares and even if I tried to talk to them, they just think that I am just a waste of time and space. They even told me to just go.

There were times when they feel sad and I tried not to care in hope that they would understand how it feels to be sad whilst people just walk away so they have no shoulder to cry on; just like what they always do to me. But I couldn’t. Because I know how it exactly feels to be sad, or worse, depressed.

You might say ‘how sad is this person can be? I am sure there are a lot of people out there who are dealing with problems that surely a lot more depressing than her problems. She’s just being over dramatic’ but let me tell you what’s inside my head for god knows how long. I know my life might not as hard as some people out there. But you have to know that every single person has different ways on dealing with problems. You probably can handle heartbreak easily, but some others can’t. You may think that someone who cried because their friends joke about their weight is ‘a drama queen who has no sense of humour’ but you don’t know that they actually suffered from bulimia. The point is, some things may not be hard enough for you to handle, but it could be too hard for someone to handle.

Years ago, when my parents got divorced, I thought I could handle it easily because they got divorced for good. It wasn’t a big deal until I found out what my parents—especially my mum—has been through. And it hurt me so badly. I didn’t know how I should feel about the divorce. Should I feel happy because they finally stopped hurting each other, or should I be sad because I wish my dad didn’t lie to us, or my mum did not find out that my dad was cheating on his family. Since then I feel so lonely. Whenever I think about my childhood when I could talk about everything to my parents and they would give me some good advices. That’s when I feel sad the most because now things have changed and I cannot go back to that moment. I do not have anyone to talk about my problems without getting blamed on; and I feel like I walk this world alone. The worst part is, the loneliness turned me into a suicidal person.

I felt like I couldn’t handle things, I couldn’t handle this life, and I don’t deserve to live. Some particular things can trigger my depression and sadly the ones I love the most are the ones who mostly do those things. And when that happens, all I can do is just picturing my own dead body lying on the floor. I wrote hundreds of suicide notes, and I am not kidding when I said hundreds. But no, I never really attempt suicide because I was always too scared to cut my throat or slit my wrist. Well, I did take a couple of pills once, but apparently it wasn’t enough to kill me. “Go seek for a professional helps then!” Oh, I did, about a year ago. I came to see the doctor by myself and no one knows because there was one time when I said ‘I think I need to see a doctor or a psychiatrist’ only to be told that I was being dramatic. I thought it was just a mild depression and I even thought that I was just over dramatic. But what the doctor said was…kind of shocking, even for me. the doctor said I need to go on several therapy session and took the pills daily etc. blah.

But then I stopped seeing the doctor simply because I thought I did not need it anymore and besides I’m broke so I cannot afford it. The least I can do is try to stay away from problems. But life doesn’t work that way. When I didn’t seek for problems, the problems—or some certain people with certain problems—seek me. So here I am again, drowning in my own sorrow and depression whilst wondering how peaceful death can be.

You, whoever reading this post, please treat people around you nicely. Just, please, be nice and think before you say anything. Yes, anything. And if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. You don’t know what they’ve been through and the least you can do is not to make their day gets any worse.

What he doesn’t know

She needs him

And she wants him, a lot

But needing someone is neither beautiful nor romantic

It’s fucking painful

But she embraces the pain


He knows how to paint a smile on her face

Make her laugh until her stomach hurts


But what he doesn’t know is

Sometimes his words carves the pain in her chest

His silence digs a hole in her heart

And she cries her heart out at night

Whilst blaming herself

For all the mess that happened between them


She tells herself that the next day

The sun will come up

And she will eat her breakfast

And she will drink her coffee


Sadly, things sometimes don’t go as planned


She wakes up the next morning,

Again, tears rolls down her cheeks

She hates herself for being weak

She hates herself for being not good enough

She is tired of doubting whether people are coming or going

Still, she is hoping that he would stay

She would rather be hurt by him than be loved by anyone else


She keeps telling herself that she’s okay

Whilst her heart bleed continuously

She knows that she was doping herself a shit-full of lies

Yet she chooses to drown and bleed without him knowing it


She doesn’t know how to love herself

but she really does love him wholeheartedly and blindly


And even if it hurts, she would do it all again in a heart beat