All I wish I could be is a
word out of your tongue - a
song unsung - all I dreamt I'd ever have - is you
But now I'm through-
Trying to save myself from this wreck that is you!
Trying to convince myself I've changed,
You - you told me things and they frightened me,
I wanted to run, but you wanted me tamed.
I wanted to scream; but I didn't, I stayed,
Hushed under your crumpled sheets I lay.
It was night. I couldn't sleep. The room was dark
and I couldn't see-
Then your phone blew up and
the light from its screen,
showed me the contours of
your lips and cheeks, of your arm and thighs - I
I silently felt the warmth
your body emanated, the strength it kind of fixated
at the tip of my fingers.
It wasn't electrifying, no - not really -
't was rather a curious sensation
like a warm wave flowing through the depths of my veins.
He didn't move, he didn't stir, so I lifted my head
though my vision was blurred-
I kissed his neck, his bare back, and his shoulders -it wasn't enough-
my insides vibrated - left me feeling as though my bones had splintered.
I couldn't sleep- no - not because his bloody phone kept vibrating
against a wooden table,
I triumphed momentarily when I managed to shut my eyes,
but my nerves kept me up at night-
I felt a tingle every time
that warm wave kept swirling inside - draining my life.
And he- he was soundly asleep- unaware of the blisters -
unaware of the passion that boiled in me.
- Su De Zoysa
only this January,
t'wasn't long ago,
when a familiar wind passed me
and i felt so sure.
i wanted to dip my feet
into this pool of water,
t'was something like a pond,
but in my heart i thought
i'd never find its earth to land on,
at least, not without drowning
till i was gone.
only to realize t'wasn't
a pool of water with great depth,
nor a pond,
but a shallow stretch of water
flowing peacefully by
reflecting the January sky.
for t'wasn't deep,
and t'wasn't long
before my sole did touch the ground,
and my heart drowned,
19th July 2017
It’s a wonderful month to fall for someone-
It’s a wonderful feeling when you don’t see it coming,
It stirs, twists, churns my insides-I’m not sure if he feels the same
Whether he’ll turn away-say no.
Winter keeps most people in, while it elbows me out-out the door, into a knee-deep snow,
Pray it never ends- a feeling so good.
Pray he feels the same- pray he doesn’t say no.
-Su De Zoysa
Many a day and night pass by and confusion still lingers in the hall, in my bedroom, wherever I go.
Don’t write too much for it reveals the contents of your soul to men, women and children unknown.
Hide from the world’s watchful eyes for they seek not to admire you, they seek only to devour you.
Don’t you know that already, my gullible soul?
Aren’t you ever so eager to leap without knowing where you’ll fall?
Aren’t you ever so forgetful of the wounds that brought you home?
But no, no one nor your past can ever seek to contain your spirit
so off you run again to find new roads,
with an open heart that of an unsullied child exploring the world.
-Su De Zoysa
she opened up
like sun kissed petals
that bloom in the morn,
to his embrace, to his half-drawn breaths that fanned her neck..
she blossomed within; lost for breath, her skin did melt, her scarlet lips did imprint a kiss on his untrimmed cheek, her eyelashes wet, her arms coiled around his neck, her fingers running wild clasping his head..
like blossoms turning toward the sun
she turned feverishly to him so young..
-Su De Zoysa
it’s okay soldier from some foreign land,
plunder our homes, obey his command.
it’s okay fellow man, to step on the greens my father grew…
the plot is ours-this is the land we grew.
so he wouldn’t mind, he’ll smile and tell you that the garden looks fine…
so burn the field, burn the fruit,
it’s okay still, tomorrow we’ll make peace, who knows?
come to my home, when the war is over, let’s have a meal by that fire
you ignited with no desire
but with the sole intention of obeying your commander.
tell us what thoughts governed your mind
when, for once, the land you stood on wasn’t a mine.
-Su De Zoysa
there has always been something that I yearn for in them; this fictional couple Austen brought to life.
it so happens that people who know me confess that I’m nothing like Elinor Dashwood and that I’m everything like her sister, Marrianne. I’m afraid they are right. my emotions: they take flight within a matter of seconds and I can’t seem to get them to land on solid ground without a devastating impact on my heart and self as a whole. I have a heart that feels ever so deeply than necessary by the standards deemed acceptable by people in general. I confess that there have been times i caught myself wishing I weren’t so easily affected by the world and what it has to offer.
Elinor, whose capacity to silently endure pain, makes me want to strive to govern my emotions, but I fail so miserably at it.
I remember that I cried when she did, at the very end of the story when Edward professes his love.
patience is a rare gift and I practice it as best I could, but I can’t seem to get rid of the pain that makes my heart’s sinews tighten in a way that makes it so difficult for me to breathe.
Surely, I’m going to have to live like this, and what I know is that I couldn’t be anything unlike myself even if I tried.