Tuesday, March 06, 2012

she used to be


I used to be beautiful, she said handing me a two year old picture of here.

I glance a bit. Yes, she looked beautiful in the picture.

Here's me a year ago. This was taken a month after I got sick, she said.

I glance again.

More pictures are shown. More memories are shared. Something that she once were. Something that she once had.

I can't even bear to see myself in the mirror now, she said.

Ah, lady, how can I tell you this without sounding so cheesy. The first day you walked in the intensive care ward, I thought you were the most beautiful person that ever walked these isle.

I want to tell her that, but the tubes got in my way, the glass got in my way, the needles got in my way, the nurses, the doctors,and all that

They all got in my way.

So I just blink
Hoping you understand
And tomorrow
You can come and see me in my glass box and talk some more.

Friday, March 02, 2012

perfectsaturdaymorning

This is what perfect mean
A cool darken bedroom
On a saturday morning
With distant sound of everything
No worry
No hurry
Just me

Wish I could bottle it up
And keep it for the rest of the day