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Tuesday, 23 August 2016

Finding my first love


The last drop of water touches my chapped lips, caresses my tongue and slides down my parched throat. The village seems so far away. I stretch out my left hand and stick out my thumb. The mountain village - the place that I'm heading towards - is barely the size of my thumb. The scorching sand beneath my feet seems to be giving way. Or maybe, just maybe, it's my legs whispering to me that they cannot go any further. No. I must go there. I must go to my First Love! The wind blows and I let it carry me for a moment. Waves of sweet sweet memories wash over me. I remember the time that we ran along the beach. The sand, then, was soft, warm and comforting. I remember the days when I had no food. You fed me, without ever once looking down on me. I remember crying - no, sobbing, in Your embrace. I remember the taste of freedom, as I lingered in the bosom of Your love. I plug in my ear piece and use up the 1 per cent of battery that I have been conserving. "I am a flower quickly fading, here today and gone tomorrow, a wave tossed in the ocean, a vapour in the rain. Still you hear me when I'm calling -" The screen goes blank. The air goes stale, again.

I drag my feet forward. One, two, three, four, five... The ground seems to be closing in on me. Racing towards me. My head hits the earth and I am suddenly engulfed in blankets of dust. I shut my eyes - a sign that I am finally accepting this tragic end to our story. My mind goes back to the day that I met You for very the first time. Tears trickle down my face as I realise that I may never see You again. I surrender. I surrender...

....

....

All of a sudden, I am lifted off the ground. Beneath me are arms as solid as steel. Pressing against my face is a chest as sturdy as the Theodosian walls. And beneath that seemingly indestructible chest is a fluttering heart. I listen closely to the familiar rhythm of that beating heart. I heave a sigh of relief as the corner of my lips inch upwards.

Saturday, 16 July 2016

Impalpable lifeline


Where are you? Where are you right now?
I can't come to you but I need you.

They've drowned my lips in layers of tape.
They've tied me up with fetters of iron.

My bloodshot eyes yearn for reprieve.
My punctured heart cries out to you.

Can you hear me?

You said all I have to do is to call out for you.
Knife to my throat - what am I to do?

-

I'm barely hanging on.
Another step, another sigh, another word -
The rope is about to snap!

The seas are raging beneath me.
They stretch our their arms and beckon me.

I'm coming!
I'm coming.
I'm com-

Please catch me.

The wind carries me (for a moment)
And feeds me to the waves.

Darkness engulfs me as I sink deeper
and deeper.
and deeper still.

Suddenly, I hear your still small voice.
My fingers itch for you but
I'm no longer in control.

I can't come to you but I need you.
Don't let me die, please. Don't let me die.
I'll cast my cares upon you.

Sunday, 1 May 2016

What makes everything else extraordinary


I shut my eyes and grab his hand with all my might -
In exactly 3 seconds, we would be plunging through the air and into the abyss.
I love high places. He doesn't; but he does it for me, anyway.
Adrenaline pulses through my veins. My spirit is lifted from my body, momentarily.
In that split second, I forget about yesterday, today and tomorrow.
In that split second, the world falls away and I'm flying through the stratosphere.
No, I'm not flying. I'm soaring.
-
-
-
-
-
The wind gushes through my hair. The cold stings the tip of my ears but
I don't care. I'm the sailor of the ship -
My personal albeit tiny ship that hosts the two of us.
I lock my hands with his as we head for the island.
The sun is up. The temperature is slightly too low for my liking but
It is otherwise a perfect day.
The warmth of the sand beckons me. And I respond.
I'm soaring again; faster than the wind, faster than ever before.
-
-
-
-
-
Brain freeze. He tells me to slow down but
When it comes to gelato, I can (almost literally) gobble up the entire cup.
It is probably a bad idea to do it tonight, though, since
It is probably one of the coldest nights this winter. I shudder, as
The blob of pistachio-flavoured ice-cream slides down my throat.
I stretch out my hand to touch his finger. It doesn't bring me any reprieve -
It is as icy-cold as mine. I look up to the sky full of stars and pray that
This would last forever.
-
-
-
-
-
He squeezes my hand and wakes me up from my reverie.
I am greeted by the unfinished essay that is due when the sun rises.
I am awakened to my reality of study, eat, sleep, and repeat.
I glance at him with dread and he immediately recognises the look on my face.
He knows that the word "mundane" is banished to the lower chambers of my dictionary.
He knows how restless I become when I'm confined to the four corners of the room.
But he also knows that I persevere because the ordinary is what makes everything else extraordinary.

Tuesday, 19 April 2016

Break down, break up




You know, he took my breath away the first time I met him. He looked so smart in his navy suit and tie; I just couldn’t take my eyes off him! I asked him to dress up for dates but he just couldn’t be bothered. I had to beg him – can you believe it?

I spent hours and hours preparing for his birthday surprise. You have no idea how difficult it was, trying to keep it a secret when I see him almost every day! And guess what…? He expressed more gratitude to his old friends who simply turned up.

Of course I loved his random surprises. I would receive clothes, bags and shoes out of nowhere – oh, I loved it best when he brought my favourite food home! But I would have traded all these gifts for a day well spent together…


I have insomnia. It takes me hours to fall asleep and I end up watching him drift into slumber every night. I wish, how I wish he had waited for me to retire for the night. It would’ve been easier, probably.

I honestly thought that he was the one for me. Although it wasn’t perfect, I was willing to compromise, to work things out. If only he had the courage to tell me to stay…


I miss him.

I tell you, she’s beautiful. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand why she had to dress up all the time. I loved how she looked in glasses, t-shirt and shorts. She never believed me. What could I do?


I showered her with gifts on random occasions to make her happy. The smile on her face was worth a year’s wages. Well, she did seem happy but it just… never felt like I was doing enough?



She was an amazing listener. I looked forward to going home every day to tell her about my day at work. She somehow made it better without saying anything! It’s just that she never seemed to understand that what I yearned for was her kiss, her embrace, and her pat on my back.

I am an early riser. I was always the one waiting for her to open her eyes. I wanted to be the first thing she saw in the morning but she never tried to get up early, before I left for work.


I swear, I would’ve proposed to her. The moment we got together, I knew she was the one I wanted to marry. Why did she have to say those words? I would’ve forgiven her. If only she said she was sorry…

I miss her.

Tuesday, 5 April 2016

Not made for war


I pull open the curtains of my eyes.
A burst of sunlight invades my moment of reprieve.
It's another day, but it's the same old war.

They say, "Come join the army."
They say, "Take up the call."
They say, "Defend your country!"

We took up the call.
We've been preparing for war.
We've spent our lives waiting for that moment.
The moment that we pick up our weapons.
The moment that we shed blood for honour.
The moment that we march the victory march.

We wait.
And wait.
And wait.

In the meanwhile, we train hard.
We give up on the things we've always wanted to do,
We walk away from the hustle and bustle of life.
We sacrifice.

We spend (almost) every moment preparing for the war.
And soon we forget that we ever wanted to do those things.

We march into the battlefield with smiles on our faces.
We boost our morale with songs of victory.
We count down to D-day - 
The day we flaunt our life's worth of sweat and blood.

Like fools, we march on and on.
Like fools, we believe we will win.
Like fools, we allow them to make us fight their wars.
But in reality, we've lost from the beginning.

It's another day, but it's the same old war.
The war against my classmate and my colleague.
The war that society has called us to.
The war that offers security and success.

I'm marching onward to that war,
But I'm spiralling downwards in everything else that I have known.

I'm not made for war.
I'm not made for war.
I'm made for my safe haven.
I'm made for your embrace.
In your arms is where I find security.
But I will fight the war.
And I will win the war.
© Melody Sim | All rights reserved.