A Glass Cage

exasperated by our fruitless interactions

no longer can I speak

when the words are cutting deep

onto wounds that haven’t healed

from our past defeats.


I’m finding it hard to believe

that we can make the change

we promised we would

but you know

some things

just stay the same.


I reach out

but my fingers just can’t reach

guess this is what they mean

by so close but yet so far.


I feel taunted, tricked, deceived

for I can see the brighter future

that lies beyond this glassed cage

but my punches and my kicks only seem to ricochet.


I press my forehead against the cold surface

rest my fists and close my eyes

my arms and legs are shaking

I’m a little terrified.


We’ve looked in every nook and cranny

searching for our mistakes

trying to find reason why

we’re cracking along the edges

but now I think I realize

that you can’t make fire from ashes

you can’t fix what never was.


my knees cave in and I fall to the ground

drained and hopeless

lost and alone


and drowned.


the tears falling from my face

burn upon my blistered palm

all the pain I had supressed

as I fought against the tide

flood down upon my heavy heart

and slowly tears me apart

from the inside.


but I think I have

just enough

for one last and final try

so please

save me from this misery

before my love begins to rot

let us push against this wretched glass

with everything we’ve got.


95 – I am so angry right now.

And for a silly reason.

My period’s probably coming soon. Would explain my mood.

I know it’s a silly reason, but I wish you take my feelings seriously.

I wish you wouldn’t try to downplay my anger.

That only hurts me more.


I was upset earlier as well.

That should’ve been a sign.

Maybe we don’t belong together.

We can’t deal with each other’s irrationalities too well.


78 – I will thrive someday.

Had a really hard time yesterday.

I failed my driving learner’s test. I really didn’t want to. Didn’t mean to. And I knew I was ready. But sometimes you can’t account for nerves, can’t account for emotions, and sometimes those things can get the best of you. I broke down, of course. Because failure isn’t something anyone likes. It’s stressful. I wanted it done this year. Before I have to go back to Toronto again. There’s been a whole ton of money invested into driving lessons and I feel I let that all slip away from me. So I was devastated. This failure combined with all the stress of not knowing where I should go, being rejected on so many fronts from UBC (they insist on making me a year behind), and having my self esteem wrecked at work. It was really too much. It was worse than failing my ARCT exam. By a margin of miles.

But I pulled it together. There are so many beautiful things in life that I have yet to discover. So many little things that make me smile everyday. And life’s too short to waste it constantly on tears. So I pulled it together. Took a nice warm shower and settled down to find things that make me happy.

And I was happy again. For a little while.

Then my mom came home.

I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt and say she just had a bad day, but I know it’s not true. Especially not after the hurtful reasoning she threw at me. She yelled at me for not trying hard enough. Not practicing enough. Procrastinating on it until the last minute. She said it was the same way with piano. The way I wouldn’t practice. And the way I failed. And that hurt. I had related the two exams by the feelings of failure and disappointment in myself I felt, by the mental breakdowns I had. But she related it to my horrible work ethics, to my inability.

And I was too battered by my earlier breakdown – I was barely keeping myself together at that point – to fight back.

But she’s wrong.

I failed my test due to my nerves, due to my getting flustered after one mistake. And there’s really no way to prepare for that. All I can do is try again. And it’s not likely to be this summer with all the appointments booked. And frankly, after having all my tenacity wasted on UBC, I don’t have the willpower to call everyday and check if they have an appointment open (because every time they say they don’t, it’s another disappointment in my face).

It was the same way with piano. My nerves always got the best of me. I would mess up entire songs at piano recitals, do horribly in piano competitions because I couldn’t get my fingers to stop shaking or be too stiff.  I agree that I should’ve practiced more in terms of piano. But I also believe I should’ve stopped playing a long, long time ago. I enjoy playing what I want. Not classical music that showcases my nonexistent technique. I want to be playing for my sake, for making others happier, not to impress some examiner. And thus, I could never be motivated to take the exam again.

I’m not good in situations where I’m openly judged. But I’ll try again with driving. But I won’t with piano. And it’s wrong. To think that practicing more will get rid of all my mistakes, all of my nervousness. I’m sure there are classes to  help relieve nerves. To make someone feel better about interviews, public speaking, performances. And I’m sure I could use those. But I’m also happy knowing that I’m not charismatic, I’m not a natural performer. And you can’t bash me for that.

I was at a cavernous low yesterday. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve even had the thought of suicide. And it came to me yesterday. Like a ghost. In the clutches of a pill case with forty-ish pills of naproxen. I’m sure I could overdose if I took all of them at once even if they’re two years old. Or at least feel nothing for a long time. But I would never.

Suicide requires a crap ton of bravery which I don’t have.

Not to mention a huge load of stupidity.

It’s never a good idea to kill yourself. That’s why I’ve always shook my head at the idea of Romeo and Juliet. The future is full of choices to make. You can bring yourself anywhere. Move beyond anything. And there’s no reason to stop and give up just because you’re at a low point in life. Just smile. There’s probably a high point just waiting around the corner.

I got my boyfriend to talk me down from my frantic hyperventilation. To calm my sobs into a sluggish sleepy slate. And after a good night’s rest, I feel better. My mom acts like she wasn’t the one who inflicted all this horrible pain upon me last night. And whatever. We’ll leave it at that.

I’m done with blaming others. Everything you feel can be controlled by you. And I can choose next time not to be hurt. (Though I probably will. Work in progress..?)

I’m happy again.

I have a million problems to worry about, to try and find solutions to.

But it’s okay.

I’m happy again.

only at the core

only at the core

of this

writhing madness

do I realize

the bitter truth

I’ve been


all along


only at the core

of this

hopeless suffocation

do I feel

the emptiness within

my own heart

a missing piece

on the edge that

no one notices


only there

can I plainly see

that the source of all this

frustration and misery

turmoil and interjection

was not

the absence of your sweet, honey love

but instead

the venom seething inside your love itself


this masochistic tendency of me

to accept your love in all its forms

is psychedelic, overwhelming,

absolutely all-consuming,

but also

wonderfully precious

incorrigibly vital

and all I ever wanted

Lost Again

My heart can’t take much more of this

These bitter bits of uselessness

So piercing with this pointless pain

My thoughts do threaten to turn insane.


I’d like to help, but I’ve got naught to say,

The words have so softly slipped away,

I’d like to help, but you keep me out,

You churn sincerity into doubt.


Thoughts into thorns that thrash in my mind,

It’s about time that I left you behnd.

25 – I’ve been a little frustrated lately.

First of all, I’m very sorry that I haven’t been as active as I usually am with reading everyone’s posts. I do enjoy reading them and I hope to get back into reading everything I’ve missed while I’ve been semi-away. Thanks for being understanding about that. 🙂

I don’t know how, but somehow I’ve found myself stuck in this void of frustration. It’s confusing and thinking about it just makes it worse. It’s completely blocking my creative spirit and my motivation to do much of anything. It’s a sickening feeling, really. In any case, I’ll try not to let it get to me. It’s probably just this sense of disorganization – of having so much to do and no idea where to start. Probably just another downside to being a procrastinator.

I went to my writing club yesterday and got some amazing feedback on some of the poems I’ve published here on this blog. I shall be working a little harder to improve my style from now on. 🙂 It’s a shame that the club is ending soon. I do so love talking about and crtiquing writing. It really makes me question why I’m not becoming a writer. Time to plunge forward and look for my creative spirit back!

Over all, I’m feeling fine. I went into a state of depression and utmost irritation the other day…but it may just have something to do with increased hormones and whatnot. I’ve been having a little too much coffee lately for my own good…Time to cut down. Once every other week is probably better for someone my age. Then again, I do take it with far more cream and sugar than the average person…It’s probably more sugar than caffeine that gives me the rush. I swear I’m addicted to sugar (and I hope to God I don’t become diabetic).

I’ve successfully trained myself to become less worried about my grades at school. It’s good, I suppose. Less stress.

I haven’t done a puzzle in a while…I think it might be good for me to start one again. Keep my mind thinking logically. Or just the heck of it. I love puzzles. And riddles. Do share if you have some good ones.

In any case, I’ll try to be a little more active. Thanks to anyone who has supported me so far. I love you all. (:



—tumblr: I have a terrible sweet tooth.

This Ruthless Beast

It started with such a simple message – nothing more than lines,

But soon I found myself attracted to none but your designs,

This awkward tantalization grew and grew with time,

I’m left with such frustration and thoughts so darn sublime.


I feel your trickling across my skin, brushing every section,

My heart, my mind, my soul is forfeit to your confection,

Oh how sweet this feeling is, oh how I wish to keep it tight,

Oh how sweet this feeling is, oh how this I simply cannot fight.


This ruthless beast resides in the deepest corners of my existence,

Love. Such persistence with no method for resistance.