5 Love Language- III

words could lit you on fire,
your words laced with charm,
and a speck of honey.

you sought a shelter in ink,
while a forest fire consumed you.

Words of affirmation—
you saw my letters,
and had a taste of my pain.
you read my words,
and you knew of the lies.
little did you know,
I never needed your sweet nothings,
to feel at ease with my skin. 

Words of affirmation:
your definition:
if it did not feed your ego,
it did not fit your motto.
you knew my fluency with words,
yet you did not feel the flames of passion.

if anything I did was to extinguish you,
you sought another body to set you ablaze.  

5 Love Language- II

skinship,
that defined our love more than anything else.
when your skin could barely breathe,

you needed a new flesh to satisfy,
your insatiable hunger for love.

Physical touch—
it did not mean anything,
if our hearts were not aligned.
your flesh thirst for intimacy,
when all I wanted was your naked heart.

Physical touch:
you defined:
a salient mortar for our souls,
you had death in your bones,
a chasm in your flesh.

when I was not the right fit—
you went shopping for a better measurement. 

forever

our forever is composed by nows,
and our future written by our history,
for every tears,
and every laughter,
and every debilitating past,
is the very making of our present.

mark this:
the estuary of our memoirs,
mourns for the days we threaded red light,
and reminisces for the days we flowed through time.

you tell me Paris meant nothing,
and i will tell you,
the stars meant nothing.

our forever composed by nows,
is inspired by the tribulations we ran,
and the rebelliousness of us. 

this forever engraved in us,
may take years to be a headline,
but as of now our forever:
a mishap:
a classified file.

we never spoke about it ever,
and we never polished it again.

so let our forever fade into oblivion,
and the abysmal devastation consume us. 

Dear –

I still keep you in my prayers.
sometimes in the whistling hours of the night,
I think about you.

I wonder if you are sleeping well,
I wonder if you are still facing your inner struggles,
I wonder if your mind wanders beyond the shores,
I wonder if your inner demons torment you still.

I pray and sometimes I think too…

I think what went wrong with our story,
and I try to list everything I had done wrong.

But I know even so,
I had given all that I had.

I sacrificed more than I should,
I fell apart just so I could see you smile,
I exhausted ever inch of me just to be with you.

But even so,
I still pray.

Ephesians 3:16-17 (NLT)
“I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong.”

I pray your heart finds its way back,
I pray God answers your prayers,
I pray God heals you of what you’ve buried.

1 Colossians 1:13 (NKJV)
“He has delivered us from the power of darkness and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love.”

I pray you make right with God,
and I pray you find your passion again.

I pray you grow,
and I pray you will have the strength to get through.

and for myself,
I pray for a heart that loves,
I pray for a heart that endures.

I pray that God’s love resides in me,
and that His word be my greatest defence,
I pray for it is my greatest weapon.

I pray for a righteous heart,
and that the light would pierce the darkness of my sins.

Dear -,
I could love and I could sacrifice. But with you, I had forgotten I was His before I am yours. I do not have the honour of showing you the God in me, but I know He will place someone else in your life to.

I hope you stop being okay with being lukewarm in this relationship with Him. I pray you have new zest for Him and I pray you understand that the light of His love is greater than any baggage you carry.

Dear -,
He will show you the way back, and this is my last verse for you.

Psalms 97:4 (NKJV)
“His lightnings light the world;
the earth sees and trembles.” 

let Him speak,
grumpebi xx

blank

(featured image: @child.ink on Instagram)

I think about love all the time.

I think about the times when someone doubted my love or other times I doubted the love others have for me.

I think back to the days when I thought the love of someone could heal the void inside of me.

and I look at myself now.

Here I am, in the same position. Right in front of my laptop, frantically typing my feelings down. Finding something that could make me happy again. Life is full of ups and downs, pain and joy, tears and laughter. I seemed to be over that small bump of laughter and joy.

I think about my family. I think about the times I was a let down, I couldn’t meet their expectations. I just wished there was something I had done that they could be proud of. I just wanted them to be happy. I knew they loved me and deep down inside of me, I knew I loved them too. I didn’t want them to see me cry, I didn’t want them to see me hurt. I wanted them to see that I am happy but sometimes certain circumstances just messes things up.

and I wanted to bring honour to the family.

I think about my friends. I noticed the number dwindling as the years gone by but what is left are a group of very special people who found their way into my heart. I realised the love I have for these people. Regardless of who they are, I knew I would always want to be with them. I would carry their burdens for them. I would do anything in the world to see them smile.

and still sometimes I feel I wasn’t doing enough.

I circled back to my trigger point. A broken relationship I had placed so much trust and hope in. I knew the waves of my own heart and the extent my love could offer. But even with a broken heart, I saw myself better off without you too. Despite juggling with everything on my hands, I forced out time to even be with the person I loved. I sacrificed a few things that were close to my heart just so I could be with him.

and I’m sorry some of these days I couldn’t be the best of myself.

This time I sat back. It seems as though everything was a mayhem except I had it all figured out. I wasn’t empty or lost after losing someone I loved. I was still caring for the friends who needed me and I was still trying to open my heart to my family. I have a lot on my plate and I had already lost my appetite.

I’m blank again.

I had spent 2019 trying to make others happy. I stopped writing my own year for myself. I had never pitied myself so much until I realised I didn’t know what made me happy. I had spent so much of my time trying to please the world and I had forgotten myself.

seems like I don’t love myself enough yet.

and maybe that’s why people think I don’t love them enough when it was all I have.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (NIV)
“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no records of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes and always perseveres.”

To date, I may be happy with how I look, how I am. But there will always be a slight tinge of discontent. It will always be: I’m not doing enough. It is never going to be enough.

But the greatest comfort I heard from God was: but you are always enough for me.

Maybe I have fallen short in every way possible. I couldn’t possibly give everyone else their perfect idea of love.

But there was someone else who could.

Someone else beyond this world who was always patient with me, forgiving, hopeful and always believed in me even when I had done things to disappoint him. I know I’m not enough, I know there will be days I fall short and start to doubt myself but there is a man who loves me and he’s telling me: I will give me rest.

Psalm 147:4 (NLT)
“He counts the stars and calls them by name.”

I sit here frantically typing still with new revelations of His love dropping in my heart. Maybe this is why writing made me happy. It brings me closer to Him. He knows my name and who I am. He knows every inch of my heart and the truth behind it all. He knows everything and I knew I could never hide from him.

He loves me and wants to be close to me. He loves me and has never forsaken me. He loves me and made a blank canvas bursting with colours.

Throughout my life ,people told me to suck it up but God told me to give my troubles to Him and He will take care of me. I remember that one point in my life where I lost faith in God and forgo the hope of a better life. I remembered telling myself there was no point in things getting better when I was going to fall harder.

But this is me now. God has called my name and I am wrapped in His love. From the moment my walk with God started, I had fallen harder but smiled brighter.

Here I am. Blanked but not for long. This could be one of the worst battles yet but for some reasons I don’t find myself wavering.

Yes. Life is hard. You fall and never seem to get out of the labyrinth. But with God, He tells me his strength is with me and I say: This is not hard enough.

Romans 12:12 (ESV)
“Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.”

Dear God,

I thank you for your forgiveness everyday. I thank you for your love and hope. I thank you for making me complete in your love. But God, now I stand before you broken once again. Would you please give me your strength, and fight this battle for me? I need you now, and I see victory in this exhausting war.

and I declare that in your mighty name,
amen.

your child calling,
grumpebi xx

midnight

i thought about it.

i counted my living days,
wandering in the midst of the sun,
hustling with the rest of the world.

it’s pretty bright,
pretty jubilant,
but amidst the yellow skies,
I miss the painted nights.

i thought about it.

and i loved the midnight skies a lot more.

i love the pink clouds,
painted navy blue skies,
and the chilling breeze of liberty,
i love the cold brew of midnight.

it’s hard to love in the morning,

i see scripted mornings,
awkward speeches.

but at midnight,
i hear softer truths,
and raw words.

a genuine conversation,
laced with every bit of flaw,
so imperfectly perfect,
so easy yet so hard to love.

so i love midnight,
the wonders behind it,
how everything at the stroke of 12,
becomes a realistic dream.

and i thought about it,
i’d rather love you at midnight,
when i can really hear you breathe,
and you don’t conceal the hideous side of you.

in the beauty of the night,
i saw a hidden you,
so carefully stashed,
in the middle of the midnight skies.

Broken

mercy like morning.

I saw the sun peaking in through the curtains, and I woke up to a brand new face.

a love so deep,

a grace so pure.

and I thought: how did I ever fathom that someone so broken could ever be loved?

Every history was littered with withered roses but you grew your own garden of sunflower and marigolds.

You said you liked the morning sun better.

You said you loved the purity of its yellow edges, all laced with its own form of love.

You said you adored the herb of the sun, a contrary of the starry skies I thrived in.

a new spectrum of colour, something so alien yet vaguely familiar.

You said the midnight roses was a reflection of the vast adversities I soldiered through and the sunflower at my feet was the morning light bursting through.

a broken glass couldn’t go back to the way it was before.

and so a withered rose couldn’t go back to its red splendour.

The burning moonlight scarred me, so I sought a new home in the golden beams of the sun.

A broken art like me couldn’t go back to the way I was, but no one said I couldn’t be someone new.

No one ever dictated my piece, I wasn’t made to be a rose so I became a sunflower.

if my sunflower shrivelled up in the showers of the sun, then I shall be a marigold.

a reflection of the brutal words marked on me, and for every mourning sang through the night.

I could be a marigold, a brand new life.

and even if I were to be broken again:

my new fragments could be a tulip— just like you.

an unadulterated love, brimming with forgiveness.

a love given and unearned,

a love so raw and completely new.

Isn’t it a pity?

everyone saw the rose but they never saw the yellow in the canvas of your painted grace. 

Letter

Break-ups are the worse. 

No matter how many plans I crafted or how many scenarios I imagined. None of it prepared me for the pain. 

I thought that perhaps if I kept thinking that the guy would leave me one day, the pain would be a lot more bearable. 

and that was the worst concept to possess. 

In a relationship, there should never be plans made for a break-up. 

I never saw myself in this position, I wouldn’t know about him. But I knew that despite having “to-do” plans if we ever broke up, I never once thought we would part ways. 

But here I am, in the middle of the night. Nachos by my bedside, three hours after midnight with sad songs on replay. I thought if I blogged about my feelings, the pain that ensued would be better but it never did. 

I blogged about our good times and I blogged about my pain. 

I blogged about everything. 

It just seemed to me that no matter where I went or where I turned.

He was there. 

But it was quite a pity, he never read any of the posts and it looked a lot like unread letters. 

Letters to him he would never see, never read and never pick up. 

So I thought perhaps this could be the very last letter I would ever write to him, maybe this time I would write it as an official one. Those that had a “dear” and ended off with “hugs and kisses”. 

But I would never know where to start. 

I loved him more than I intended to. I saw a future with him and I knew for sure he made me feel secure despite the raging calamity of the world. Never once was there a safe haven in my universe but he created one for me. 

He built peace and among all the other deafening voices.

That was why it hurt more especially after finding out he had moved on first. 

It was easy for him to make promises and break them. Hold my hand and let go. Tell me he loved me and then claimed it faded. It was easy for him because he had everything he ever wanted. He had his life straight—

but what about me? 
my life was falling apart,
and he was the one who made it bearable.

So what do I do when he left? 

What happened to my safe space? 

What happened to the nirvana I could immerse myself in? 

He just took it away and left while I was left to reconstruct my life. 

It was easy for him to take the blame for the mess I was in and I wouldn’t deny it. He was the reason why I ended up in the middle of no where. Broke and indulging in alcohol and cigarettes. He was the reason why I faced the absolute temptation to give up on life. 

and he was also the reason why I missed myself so much. 

As much as I wished I could tell him the truth about everything, I couldn’t push myself to do it. I hesitated when he said things were his fault: I wanted to agree. 

Instead I told him he could walk free from guilt, and the only person ever responsible for such a disaster was myself. I didn’t want to be the obligation he had lugged around, having to care for me because he felt responsible for me.

He didn’t have the right to care for me especially since he was the one who had allowed me to fade away from his memory. 

He didn’t have the right to care or even ask: 

I knew I wanted it to be more than friends. 

I knew I had stopped loving him for quite some time. I knew deep down the feelings had vanished in a way or another yet I told him I never moved on. 

I am a liar and I lied so he would leave me alone.

I lied so I could erase him from my life and maybe some years down the road (if we were ever meant to be) we could start over easily. 

I lied just in case all this “moving on” thing was just a fraud. I couldn’t be too sure about my own feelings. 

so… 

Dear you,

I wish we can still be friends. I wish you would look at me and still smile back. I also wish that I could hold you for the last time and tell you “I love you”. 

Hugs and no kisses,
grumpebi xx

Unspoken

I’m destructive.

Like really destructive.

Whenever it came to pain, the first thing I ever turned to were things that cracked me more.

I never knew how to deal with pain.

All I was accustomed to was the constant tender pain against my ribcage. Face against the pillow under the shelter of the creamy naval blue skies.

I made my mind run a marathon, thinking about how life was filled with contradictions and irony.

It’s a cold joke.

How they portrayed life in such an alluring manner. They painted an entire mural of sunflowers and rainbows only to have the rain wash the colour away.

Then what do I have left?

Tormented skies and roaring winds. Just the sound of the waves pushing against the shore and pulling back.

That’s the concept of life isn’t it?

First it showers you with hope and faith. It gives you things that warmed the bottom of your soul. It tells you that you should be happy, it tells you about the diamond stars and the cotton clouds.

like I said.

When the rain comes, nothing ever stays the same. This deceiving facade we have been living under, the illusion of happiness all robbed and dusted. Only to realise life gives you things only to take it away from you.

and sometimes the things they take from you leaves you a completely different person. 

I could never differentiate which was the worst atrocity of life? 

Never feeling the conclusion of a season or never crawling out of the pit of toxicity?

Life itself is vicious, it was an unspoken aspect we never touched on. Just briefly grazed upon before we moved on to deal with the fragmented mess we’ve become.

No, I never asked for this which was tragic.

I could stare into a pair of eyes and think about how blessed I was.

and the very next…

I was staring into the dead night, with the soft whisper of your voice.

There,

but I knew it wasn’t real.

That was the hypocrisy I wished I knew before I dived into something that only tore me apart, ripping me into pieces and leaving nothing.

Not even my flesh and bones.

I just wished I knew life was going to be kind to me and a psychopath, except I never knew the extend of its psychotics.  It was horrid to have the entire world in your hand and have it fade into the abysmal darkness.

Talk to me about it.

My heart is living in affliction still.

Still wailing in desperation for a solution.

I would love to see the meadows again. I would love to feel the orange edges of the sun against my face. I would love to touch the serenity of the oceans.

I would love to hear from all of these again.

But now all I’m seeing are the cracked lands, withered roses. All I can feel is the strong gush of chilly air against my gasping skin.

and all I could ever touch were the jagged ends of my torment.

Tell me:

how dumb am I?
to think this wasn’t the end? 
to think we didn’t quite finish
what we wanted to say? 

drowned,
grumpebi xx

Toxic

Relapsed: 

I promised myself a billion things, 

How I wouldn’t ruin myself. 

How I wouldn’t leave myself in agony. 

How I would learn from the same old mistakes. 

But I never learn…

Toxic: 

Picking up the cigarette, 

I lit myself alive, 

Just a little fire, 

and I engulf myself in smoke. 

I never inebriated myself,
I just smoked myself short. 

Lie: 

Telling myself—

Don’t walk in the path of darkness, 

Don’t stumble, 

You don’t want a guy to ruin you. 

Truth: I bought this pain,
I willingly walked into a trap,
and I willingly lead myself into ruins. 

Toxic II: 

One stick, 

Two bottles, 

Just a little temptation. 

Drown myself out, 

Suffocate these feelings. 

While I smother my flesh. 

Relapsed II: 

Crawl back,

To the same things, 

Lighters and broken bottles, 

Empty wallets and ripped hearts. 

You don’t blame the boy who ruin you, 
you blame yourself,
you chose this path of destruction. 

Lie II:

I said I was okay, 

I said I was doing fine. 

I hung smiles on my face, 

because it’s free for show,

I break my own promises, 

and you watch me blow up. 

I would just sweep into oblivion, 
into the museums where doors shut itself,
a colour faded and greyed,
just a toxic body,
with broken parts.