Cin-digi Journal

 em nhớ anh lắm. nhớ anh rất nhiều. em biết là tụi mình sẽ lại được gặp nhau sớm và mọi chuyện sẽ ổn thôi, nhưng mà em vẫn buồn. lỡ như em cần anh thì sao...khó quá. anh ngủ sớm đi nha. đừng thức khuya nghĩ về mấy chuyện vậy. không đáng đâu. như anh nói thì ít nhất kịch bản tệ nhất đã không diễn ra, ha? em không muốn vì một điều nhỏ mà anh thức khuya để nghĩ về nó. nhiều khi trên đời, người ta đâu có cố ý làm mình buồn đâu anh. anh cũng đã nói với em như vậy mà. và những chuyện xảy ra hôm nay, em biết anh nói nó không phải lỗi của em, nhưng em vẫn cảm thấy tệ lắm. em xin lỗi anh rất là nhiều. anh có nói bao nhiêu thì em vẫn cảm thấy tội lỗi thôi. mà cứ dằn vặt mãi thì cũng đâu làm được gì cho mình. ý là, em biết vậy... em hy vọng anh ngủ được. đừng có lo quá làm gì.  anh biết không. lúc thấy anh khóc, em cảm thấy như một đứa khốn nạn vậy. là em đã làm anh khóc. là em đã ích kỷ, thiếu suy nghĩ, em không bảo vệ được anh. em đã không nghe lời anh cầu cứu. ngày hôm nay trong lòng ...

 this isnt fiction. im putting it here because ik no one's gonna read it. im so fucking done with life. stressed and all. im so tired of being grateful and feeling priviledged. like ok ik wtv but im so fucking tired. i wish i was good at something. i wish i've got motivation and talent. all i have is rage and fear and greed. im spiraling again and it's fucking exhausting. i cant keep seeeing everyone have their lives figured out while mine is in fucking shambles. am i not a fucking failure. im so tired. so fucking tired. im highkey failing yooooooo and it's tearing me apart. im not good at anything. i mean i am,,, but i don't have any motivation to improve myself. ig my depression isnt completely gone. im so stressed out about post-secondary. i can go far......but i dont have money. I wish i was rich. i wish i have a job. i wish i have money. money money money!!!!!!!! i love money. i literally dont have a single problem that i cant fix with money. if i go out of pro...

    You carved in my heart a hole the size of a door Then moved in without asking You dragged your luggage's wheels over the flesh and left behind some charred markings.     Soon enough you made yourself at home.     With a fireplace always crackling and I have grown accustomed to the smell of Marlboro smoking.      Sometimes, my lungs  would cloud gray     But i told you  that i was okay. I even learned to save you a seat When steam rises from the dining table.     You see, I was good.   All I had was space for you. When you asked for two more stories I slammed the doors on everyone else Emptied out their  cupboards and Gave you all my keys.  I did that out of love.      Your reciprocation might have been peculiar  But it was good for me Right, baby? Like that time you planted in the pit of my stomach     opiods but I left them in Believing they would grow fruit trees...

     The vast blue sky My diminutive  sorrows Burn behind The further we go.      With my rain coats and your fervor We take off for a far cottage Where twice a day the tide rages  Always, salt air in our faces.       And this will be our hideaway Sleepless nights without you, I've gathered Now exchanged for a clear look   Of this silver moon  up high. If from the shores we were birthed Then her waves, we shall become.      I was made to walk on sea gravel, To taste brine on your lips While the ocean carries us into our human And its rhythmic crashing drowns us out.      An azure humming  Yet our voices are never too loud.      In your arms, I could drown,  I could cry, I could break Let the whitecaps muffle our sounds.      Imitating the tidal waters In and out with palpitation Until the world begins to quiver And my teeth tastes of metal....

Death will have the face of my father  my mother's embrace, my granny's bike.  It will sit with me on the front porch during the relatives' Lunar New Year visits, smelling fond of expensive candies and red lucky money. It will curl up with me on the couch, watching my father reorganizes his paperwork and vinyls for a work trip My mother prepares dinner It would be there in my parents' bedroom. I would be small again, enough that I still fit on their bed. Then I would fall asleep And maybe, I would wake up, my mother by my side, favorite stuffy in my arms The TV playing familiar tunes  My granny's down in the kitchen making breakfast My father and the relatives would arrive by bus real soon.  Then all of us are at the dining table My grandfather is here too, in suit and tie, not a hospital gown My cousins would beckon me over  And we would make a mess while running about.  Death will cradle me in its arms  The serenity of my childhood would replay over ...

 The asphyxiation of a duvet's chrysalis Still can't be as hot as the wrap of your arms around my body; still can't be as heavy as your pleas sinking down on me.  You beg me to make it stop To curl into you and sleep To not be afraid of a love so tender But how could I throw up what I once were? Because what didn't kill me Pulls me off of my bed with the burnt remnants of the day and sprawls across my chest While you're somewhere far away. The disgust that I couldn't end Would become a hare rubbing at my feet incessantly reminding me of it's existence. one so repulsive Eyeing the white bunny in my hands. How could you ever love a roadkill Full of filth and bleeding out on concreate? Don't you ever get tired of saving me every time? Don't you ever get tired of holding me in your arms? Breathing and limping Just for me to leap out again towards the road. Your patience is burning but I keep feeding off of it You can's save something that finds joy ...