Lucien, Lucien. I can't fight with you anymore. It has drained the colour out of my days, wherever I go my steps are dampened with an unpleasant loneliness. Do you know how much further this would torture me? Can you please put a halt to this? All I want is to dance with you, until our feet won't do and our hands run wild. All I want is you. You see, Lucien, I was wrong. I did not realise the weight of words, and the force they hurl in such a reckless manner that you would leave, that you would leave in silence and in a deafening pain that I did not fathom. Please don't pity me, my inability to love, and my stubborn refusal to accept it whole-heartedly. Does it not make perfect sense that I'd been able to find my rhythm in you, and that, it made me the happiest of many days, out of a thousand suns? My darling Lucien, come back. I'll be good.

Ah troubled heart.

I woke up this morning broken-hearted. My beloved country is stricken, paralysed by traitors terrorising  us with blatant deceptions and ill-intentions. We have lost our democracy years ago in the hand of our so-called Father of Development, in his march of tyranny he had our wealth stolen, our land sold, our people silenced. Today, our brothers and sisters march together, drowning out echoes of May13 threats. For a long, long time I couldn't hold back tears. Of joy, because we are finally tied as one, as Malaysians. Of anger, because there is no decency in this man we called Prime Minister. A fraud, a murderer, a liar, a corrupted disgrace. 

Today will remain a big blot stain in Malaysian history.  Barisan National Coalition may  declared their victory and carry on with their shameless parade, but know this, today is the day Najib lost the heart of Malaysians, and it is the day that marks his downfall.

Ah here come brain splatter and heart matter

Ah Mr Stone Fox with a beautiful mind
All I want is to dance with you
Under the grey belly of clouds
All I want is to dance with you
To a never-ending rondo

I often wonder where would that fine point of retribution lies
In between heartaches? amidst that untaught obedience? in broken snippets of lies? 
Or in between your arms, taut and tethered with untasteful praises - can I bare my soul?

Today I had a little walk by myself. I didn't mind the muddy field, almost felt a little unravelled under the weakened sun as I took on a long stride, one after another. Somewhat at peace, somewhat unsettled.   The peculiar atmosphere of mist, sweats and dampened earth, and I was trapped in an erratic race in my head, one I cannot win. At times, I long for the summer sunday afternoons. Basking under the sun with salt water gently washing the weariness away, with my almost-lover. I fell in love under a thicket of kisses, in a playful tumble and in a downward spiral. Will there be an end to an unresolved heartache? Yes. Yes there is. Until dusks settled, vision fogged and grasps loosened, then the toughest too shall dissolve. 

I love you, and I dislike you.

Catch me if you can

Point blank

This fake terror does not scare me anymore. There was a number of time, more than I'd like to admit that I'd willingly let my heart roams wild. Stomping wild in the rain, the truth is, I knew. I'd always knew. A slow-strung demise, almost a welcome calamity. 

There is this man whose hand I once held tight. His fingers coarse with marks of life, painted by sweats and earth. His language unpolished, his manner uninhibited, and his pride swollen. Although, I've been able to appreciate his lack of pretense, and his unbearable raw ignorance - that made a man who was true to himself, blinded or not, became irrevocably appealing.  Truthfully, I was painfully attracted to this man. I saw the shadow of Mr. Ito in him, tugging my sleeves like a pleading child of the Red. Reminding that I was once hopelessly in love with false courage, no matter how foolish. Almost on the brink. 

This does not scare me anymore. I will let this tinge of mellowed sadness follows me as far as his scent carries. Then I'll walk on, with the earth moves under my feet. In my pocket, a little thankfulness for a peculiar encounter. Because you don't scare me. I know you. You are just a chicken with teeth and I do not loathe what I pity. 

I want a cradle for my stones. Out in the cold with the ghastly creatures.
With the stranger I walked with, once and many more.

I want a cradle for my stones. Down in the rockshire with you.
Down in the grand abyss, where four-legged rules and my heart fell.

In your rhythm, along the crescent of your smile, amidst the strange air on a mellow midsummer evening. The gentle knock of December drops, the gentle rock that is my bright-eyed darling. I am a rested soul, I am the southern wind dancing in the wild. Yes, I am held prisoner on the bed of cerulean pacific. I am still the happiest of the flock. The happiest of the flock.

Ah, heart-noise.

Midpoint

In the nook of his neck, I was forcefully reminded of my existence. In a chokehold of stifled emotions, crippled with pure ecstasy. Repeatedly, repeatedly. Horrifyingly. 

I found my ground state in the arch of his arm, in between embraces, in the buoyance of this strange comfort. I'm troubled. I'm falling in love, and I'm troubled.

I spent twenty thousand seconds on a monday with an arrogant man;

I had four thousand flutters in my heart.

Betwixt heartache and false start

I let the dark mass swallowed my grief

as I laid on the Black Sea,

no longer crying over half-measures

Wrestling with the tumbling silence,
as the noxious carousel of nightmare spun
there was only death

"...Her face at first just ghostly,  
turned a whiter shade of pale"

Here comes heartsplatter
amidst the four-fingered frenzy
I cannot lie
how much I wish to be yours

Pour Llewellyn, with love

I cannot deny them fluff
that is why I dance with you
blame it on my soft skeleton