#peda 2018

[greekgodoftragedy]

she stayed up late for him, the moon has become her good friend, smiling at her like Cheshire, as if he knows a secret she doesn’t, and maybe he does. the stars twinkle, encouraging her to open her eyes. she’d sneak a cup of coffee to her room, downing it in big gulps, hoping that it’d keep her awake. she waited and cried when he didn’t come. she smiled madly when he did come, 5 hours later. yes, the moon did know a secret she didn’t know. she couldd write pages of poetry, long strings of sentences, and palaces of paragraphs about him, for him. and yet, he couldn’t even write her a one-paragraph letter. she clings to him like life support, when he was live wire. she loved him dangerously, risking everything just for him. she has risked everything. and so here we are now. she will not be missed.

-- elegy to the part of me who loved him endlessly (tel, 2018)

[greekgodoftragedy]

in this galaxy, out of the solar system we know all too well, is a planet, the sun’s unknowingly supplying. from Earth, it’s an unfathomable, flimsy star. but from Pluto, oh boy, it’s the sun to Earth. its color cannot be translated to any language of Earth, but it’s the color of the fraction of a second once the sun has set. not orange, not pink, but that rare kind of purple, a rare and soft purple, lavender but not really. its size, the size of earth’s biggest continent. in this planet, creatures live. humans but with dragonfly wings that constantly flutter, lifting them off the ground. their eyes the same purple with hints of gold or silver or bronze. what happens in this planet? in this planet, lost things are found. many no-pair socks, receipts, nail cutters, papers, pens, and pencils. a chest labelled ‘love.’ bottle labelled ‘friendship,’ jewelry box containing ‘family,’ tiny vase with ‘hope.’ and the present residents sympathize when a child appears in the middle of all the lost things. the residents pray to its moons, thanking for the life they have, and hoping that these lost things would disappear from this planet.

-- this planet (tel, 2018)

[greekgodoftragedy]

to elio, tell me how it felt how your heart melt when you received that call, how you didn’t expect it at all. how you waited with heart in you hand, waiting for his return, how you expected his love back, but only got the memories. you treaasurer of whispers, of secrets, and of treasures. how he lived on and you had to relive everything in memory. how he found new songs and how you kept playing the same chords. tell me how broken you were, with your frozen heart in hand, with only the fireplace for warmth, warmth that could not amount to his. tell me how it felt to grow old sans him, tell me so i don’t get to feel alone.

-- to elio ; letter to my favorite fictional character (tel, 2018)

[greekgodoftragedy]

tasked to freewrite but how is i to freewrite when i do not know how to freely write? you see, my brain is encased in this cage i couldnt seem to escape. and it continues to enrage me...even enraging those around me  i don’t know how to tackle it by its reins. been scattering stains on these fingertips. i’m a puppet of my own pain. a pawn of my own pretentious pretense. mind’s not present as i present this facade, i myself am not familiar with. sometimes i question, if this really is me, or just some illusion, a product of my own imagination. dissociation is a funny thing. making me see this apparitions and hearing this hallucinations. am i dreaming? they say it’s all in my head. and they’re probably right. it’s all in my head. and i’ve gone mad. where were we? freewriting?

-- freewrote #1 (tel, 2018)

[ i never freewrite because my brain likes to jump from one idea to another, creating this huge blurb of sans cohesiveness. but i tried to give it a shot and there you go haha. i honestly don’t know what i’m trying to prove here but yeah, have fun trying to figure that out lol ]