8:59 am

Okay, so I don't know how to describe this poem because it was just so random of me to write a piece like this while my lecture was going on, yes, I didn't pay attention in class (sorry ma'am if you're reading this) But you know, I was feeling very down emotionally and just like most people, I have a diary where I pour in my thoughts everyday, so I just did that. I had no intentions of writing a poem, I just went with the flow and what you're going to read now is the outcome of it:

Yes, I threw my T shirt away,

Thinking the moments will go along with it

Little did I know

That there are dates, places and faces.

They didn't go anywhere

Far from me.

They didn't have to look back at me.

They knock my door everyday

visit my empty house to fill it with vintage furniture.

vintage was JUST a word used by them.

Even the furnitures were broken.

They needed fixing.

I didn't touch them yet.

so every time I enter my house now

I don't sit

I take no rest

I move around corner to corner

to find an escape

only to find out, it was me,

who locked all the doors

filled all the holes.

thinking it would do the healing.

I should've known

healing needs time, healing needs space

my house didn't allow me this privilege.

It was occupied

It assumed I didn't need anything else

because I already had everything.

Hm, I think I did

But did I ever mention I needed it?

The walls pretended to be deaf

My words are still unheard.

I am learning to live with the echo of my sorrow.

I am still working on my convincing skills

So that I can throw all my furniture away

make some space and open the windows.

Till then,

I think somebody is at my door.