The Colour Red

“Mommy?”

“Hmm…?”

“What does red look like?”

I glanced up, wondering how on earth to explain something so simple.

“Mommy? Are you listening?” she asked again, my beautiful little girl. She stared up at me.

“Yes sweetheart,” I answered, “Well, remember the time when you accidentally spilt hot tea all over yourself?”

“Uh-huh…”

“That’s how it looks like,” I smiled.

“So it’s burning?”

“Uh-huh,” I ruffled her hair fondly.

“Oh…” her eyes thoughtful as she went back to brushing her doll’s hair.

I gazed at her, feeling a jabbing pain in my heart, wishing I could do more for her. I had always scorned my mother’s protectiveness. I always thought she was being over-protective and was constantly wincing at her actions. Now, I realized, it was something she couldn’t stop. It was there, whether she, herself, liked it or not. I realized that I was repeating her actions towards my daughter. The feeling of wanting to shield her from everything and just keep her within her happy little bubble was natural and I couldn't stop it. As I took in her perfect features once more, I felt an overwhelming sense of love welling up within me. She had her father’s straight, dark hair. Otherwise, she was a complete copy of me. Except for her eyes. Again, the feeling of my inability to do more filled me. Her eyes were a mysterious cloudy, grey color. You see, my sweet little baby was blind.

I recalled the very first time I saw her. My husband at my side as I screamed as the pain ripped through me. However, I knew it was worth it as I heard the cries of my baby for the very first time.

“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Toh, you have a baby girl!” a relieved and tired doctor announced. Tears began to flow down my face, “Let me see her!” I held out my trembling hands as I impatiently waited for the nurse to wrap her up. She was covered in blood and was nothing more than a tiny thing, no bigger than a stuffed toy, all wrinkled. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I held her tight, whispering “I love you” over and over again in her ears.

Weeks past, we begin to notice something was terribly wrong. “Why hasn’t she opened her eyes doctor?” my own eyes wide with fear. My husband beside me held on to my hands, quietly giving me assurances, trying to calm himself at the same time.

The doctor cleared his throat nervously, “Well, I can’t say for sure but sometimes, certain babies tend to take slightly longer than normal to open their eyes. But I’m sure that there is nothing wrong with your child. She seems to be a rather active one, so she should be fine.”

He was right. She soon opened her eyes. But they were a wrong color.

We tried everything, from modern to traditional medicine, but there was no changing the fact that my child was blind. How and why, we’ll never know. However, she was still our perfect little baby.

“Mommy?” my child asked again.

“Hmm…?”

“What color is the sky?”

“It’s blue sweetheart.”

“Oh…” she thought about it for awhile, her brows drawn together, “What does blue look like mommy?”

I grinned. It would take a long time before this conversation would end. “Well sweetheart, remember the water you showered in…”

Walking

I used to glare

At people who said

"People who commit suicide are cowards"

I used to hate them very much

Because you see

I was once

One of those 'cowards'

And sometimes still am

I could never understand

How can someone

Stare at Death in his face

And still be a 'coward'

I’ve seen so many others

Cowering under him

So for us 'cowards'

How are we considered 'cowards'?

Until someone told me

"Dying is easy. Anyone could do it.

Living is a challenge. Only some complete it."

But I hated that person too

But those words

Kept ringing in my head

Echoing, going round

Refusing to stop

And I begin to notice

How death was really

The easy way out

It took away everything

And I begin to realize

How difficult living is

How battle-worn and scarred

I was becoming each day

And I finally understood

Why only some are

Able to complete

This trial 'living'

But I still

Do hate those who call

Suicides 'cowards'

Because not everyone can look in Death's face

I prefer another term

'Lost hope'

Because that's what they (and sometimes I)

Truly are

Be someone's candlelight, will you?

Happiness

“I like him. I really do,” I said, not daring to meet your eyes, “But he isn’t the one who will make me happy.”

“Isn’t happiness something you decide?” you smirked at me, “Just make yourself believe you’re happy, like you always do,” you said, so calmly, like it didn’t bother you.

I glanced up for a second, meeting your eyes, before letting my eyes dart away. I didn’t say a thing. How could I? You’ve already made up your mind and I should have known by now that this was nothing more than a fling. Still, the ache in my heart refused to stop hurting.

“What’s up? Why the sad face?” you studied my face. I shook my head. “I need to go,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. I untangled myself from your arms, suppressing a shiver from the sudden chill. I looked around the room, looking for my missing clothes.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, your hair in disarray, causing you to looking even more arresting. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything…” your voice trailed off, unsure of how to respond to my sudden coldness.

I ran a hand through my already bedraggled hair. “What if I can’t?!” I spun around, tears stinging my eyes. “What if I can never be happy with him? No matter how much I try to make myself believe it?” my heart was thumping furiously as I pulled on my clothes. How could you not understand? “What if you’re the only one who can make me happy? Then what?”

You stared up at me, stunned. “I…I…” your brows furrowed.

Frustrated, I grabbed my bag and walked out of the room, not even bothering to look back.

“Meina! Wait!”

“What for? I’m just wasting time here!” I cried out.

“I’m sorry,” your arms came around me and held me tightly. “I can’t. This is the best I can do. I thought you understood.”

“So did I,” my voice barely above a whisper, "So did I, Leo," I struggled out of your arms and run out the door, knowing but refusing to acknowledge that I would come back sooner or later anyway.

Smelling the Roses

The tea's gone cold now
Music has faded into the night
You feel its cooling breeze against your skin. Despite that,
You still feel the heat

I hear Josh Groban crooning
His voice melodious and soothing
I’m in a sanctuary you can't get in
I feel safe, finally

He imitates the acts of others
Failing to recognize the loss
He loses himself in the course
Forgetting who he was at the beginning

She takes off her masks
And lets her clothes fall
We watch her fall from grace
As we realize the ugliness between

You sing loudly and unrestrained
Making everyone cringe
Unknowingly they fall under your enchantment
Your sinister smile grows

I let go of your hand
And run free along the darkened skies
I smell the magic in the air
I feel amorous tonight

He guides us along a rocky road
Dancing and spinning all the way
As we struggle to keep up
He disappears into the moonless midnight

Her hands bloodied and sore
Still rhythmic and steadfast
She moves elegantly
Weaving her enchantment around us all

Your hands create exquistry
Magnifique screams out loudly
Finesses undeniable in your works
They stop for a second glance

I dance along the cliff's edge
Unafraid to fall into the chasm below
Knowing you'd be there to catch me
I smile and release my inhibitions

His hair like molten honey
Shines brightly in the twilight
We follow the mystical light
To reach this Adonis figure

Flawless she is
As she pirouettes majestically
Her cold blue eyes pierce your very soul
And only you see her cruelty within

Buried Under

"It's called 'soul murder'. That's what you're talking about, aren't you?" her hushed tones, afraid to break the silence. Amber eyes stare back at yours, waiting in anticipation. You look at her, tears forming at the corner of your eyes, unable to answer her. "Oh god..." she whispered, reaching out to hold your now trembling form, "Oh god, my baby." She cries for you, crying the tears that you refuse to let go of, holding you tightly, as if you would slip away.

Then again, you might. Just so that it would all go away; the unwanted memories that terrifies and shakes the very core of your heart. Because even though you said you're all over it now, you still can't believe that it happened to you. Till today, you can't bear to say the word out; you can't bear to tell others what happened to you. It's a heavy burden and a huge secret that you carry. One that you can't really tell others in fear of their reactions.

Some might pretend that it never happened. But you know differently. No matter how much you try to hide from it, or how far you can run from it, you know that it'll always come back. And you can't do anything to stop it. You can cover your ears and close your eyes; you can probably pull the covers over your head as well. But it'll still be there, waiting, haunting you, and never releasing you from its claws.

Others might pity you; sympathy in their eyes every time they look at you. Trying to understand what you're going through, or worse; pretending to know what you're going through. But they don't really understand; they don't really know. They can try, but they will never. And you'll hate it. Being pitied, having others pretending to understand. You just want to scream at them and call their bluff. The hypocritical people who only wish to help.

Certain people might hide from you. They'll run away, leaving you even more lonesome and insecure than before. But you can't stop them. They have a right to choose; free will, which sometimes isn't that great after all. You start doubting yourself, and stop trusting everyone. You’ll barricade yourself in, refusing to let anyone see within you. Hiding from everything and anything, losing yourself in the process. But then again, you'll never know. Not until you tell them.

Picture By : Royston Toh

Dreams

My hand, he takes. 

So tightly, he grasps. 

Like in a moment, I would disappear. 

Laughter, so naïve, 

Like the children we once were, 

Before the poisoned world tainted us. 

Smiles, so secretive, 

Hiding things that shouldn’t be seen, 

Like they always do. 

Tears, bearing your souls, 

Displaying things that should be concealed, 

Obscuring things that should be exhibited. 

Jealousy, a disgusting emotion, 

Hindering a rational thought, 

Presenting only irrational ones. 

Hate, a black cloud, 

Masking the goodness within, 

Like a rotten apple that can’t be eaten. 

A melody, so melancholy, 

Filling your soul, killing your spirit,

Washing away your heart. 

Grotesque, the dance is, 

Creating a nightmare ballet, 

So intoxicating, you can’t escape. 

So sweet, a dream is, 

Like a rose and its thorns, 

Bleeding you dry when you least expect it. 

Shaking my head,
I wake up, 

As remnants of the dreams wash away. 

Picture By : Royston Toh 

Picture Edited By : Yours truly

Old Flames and Passionate Nights Series

The Morning of Yesterday

 You walked in; heels dragging on the rosewood floorboards, shoulders slumped. You looked as though you have not slept well in days; world-weary and wanting to give up. I sensed your presence way before I saw you. What was it that made you so special?

“Hey…” you sighed, as you dumped yourself on the wooden stool, “What’s the strongest thing you have here?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Drinking away your problems? That’s new.”

“Yeah well, that’s all I can think of right now. And there’s something about this place that somehow makes me feel better.”

“Huh… Even so, you shouldn’t be drinking the problems away.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Can you just get me the strongest thing you have?”

I shook my head as I got to work; my body moving automatically after months and years of practice. I wondered briefly if you still like lemon-flavored drinks.

“Here,” I said, slamming the whiskey glass on the table, spilling some of the mix, “Enjoy,” sarcasm evident in my voice. You looked up, shocked.

“You know I can complain to your boss about this,” you said haughtily, spoiling for a fight.

“Well, go ahead, ‘cause she’s standing right in front of you,” I shot back.

Your eyes widened. Obviously, nobody kept in touch with you. “You own this place?”

“Yeah, anything wrong with that?” I challenged, raising my chin.

“No… No… I just thought… well that this was temporary… that you’d go back doing your PhD…” you struggled to make sense of it all.

“As I said, people change.”

“That’s obvious,” you eyed me up and down, as if seeing me for the first time in years. Defiance swept through me. A bar job had requirements and one of them was the skimpy clothes.

“So,” I leaned forward, “What’s bothering you? You never drank your problems away before.”

“Problems… Trina… You know the rest…” you mumbled, as you picked up the whiskey glass and sniffed it carefully, “Hey… this smells lemony!”

I shrugged, “Sun under the Tropics; another house special,” I paused for a moment, “Actually most of our drinks are special. Of course we do offer the usual though.”

You sipped the mixture cautiously, as if you expected it to explode anytime soon, “What’s in here? It tastes like lemon juice…”

I smirked, “Maybe because it is?” I turned and walked away, “You shouldn’t be drinking your problems away. Get up and solve them,” I said to you as I walked away, leaving you there speechless.

You left your drink on the bar as you run after me, “What time do you end? Can I take you out?”

I cocked an eyebrow, “Does the phrase ‘You have a girlfriend’ ring a bell in your thick head?”

You stepped back stunned. You did not expect the harsh tones or the cruel words. “Hey, I was just asking. If you don’t want to then it’s fine with me. Didn’t need that,” you bit out, before turning around, “Wished I hadn’t come,” you muttered as you grabbed your coat and walked out of my bar.

Once again, I stared at your receding back, torn between the desire to run after you and the need to walk away like did before.

Picture By : Royston Toh

Three Hundred and Sixty-Five Letters

I remember writing you a hundred love letters after you went away. They asked why you had to go and if you missed me like I missed you. Each one told you how much I missed your scent and your laughter ringing around the house. Each letter asked if you still remembered our dreams together.

I remember writing you a hundred hate letters after you went away. They cursed you for putting me through such pain. They hoped you would suffer a fate worse than mine. They wished you would realize your mistake and come running back to me so that I could turn you down. Each one soaked with tears.

I remember writing you a hundred letters after you went away. They asked you how have you been and where are you now. They told you of my life in the aftermath of a relationship. They told you of my new life without you. Each one filled with regret and a small hope of what-could-be’s.

I wrote you a total of three hundred letters after you went away. Three hundred letters that I never sent. Three hundred letters that I burnt when December came. Then I wrote another sixty-five letters. To myself. Telling myself that it was time to move on. And when the last letter was written, I begin to walk again.

Picture By : Royston Toh

Fairytales

Sometimes true love

Is right in front of you

Someone told me

True love doesn't exist

Cold and harsh

It was like

Having

My little childhood dream destroyed

What happened to all?

The Prince Charming

And happily-ever-after?

They were just stories

To amuse little kids

But since you're older, I thought you should know

I frowned

That isn't true

If true love doesn't exists

The old man who has dementia

Wouldn’t remember the love of his life

If true love doesn't exists

The little girl wouldn't learn sign language

Just to be friends with the new kid in school

If true love doesn't exists

You wouldn't be happily married

With two kids today

Someone became uncertain

Then what are the fairytales for?

I thought long and hard

Till I remembered a phrase I once heard

Fairy tales do not tell children the dragons exist.

Children already know that dragons exist.

Fairy tales tell children the dragons can be killed

The dragons are

Trials and tribulations

You go through each passing moment

By overcoming them

You find true love

Magical Musical

We watched the beams lit up the night sky
And for a moment
We forgot our troubles
And lived in that one moment

It was magical
With the instrumental music
Playing in the background
And the sea breeze ruffling our hair

It felt like
Everything was fine
But the show ended
And we came back to reality

Stay Gold Forever

We sat there, me chugging on my Starbucks Vanilla Latte, you on your Mocha. I lit a cigarette up and took a deep breath. You wrinkled your nose, hating the "disgusting cancer-making stench of smoke". You didn't say anything though. Even if you did, you knew it would fall on deaf ears. JLS played on the speakers as we sat there not talking, watching the world pass by. I had so much to say to you, to ask you, but back then, I couldn't form the sentences I needed to speak. We had too little time left; it was running out.

"Found myself asking
What are you waiting for?
'Cause everyday I love you a little bit more

"I like this song," you broke the silence, "Feels nostalgic, doesn't it?"

I nodded and took another puff.

"Ironic isn't it?" you asked wryly, "Me, oh-so-healthy, has no time left, and you who wants to die, have a long way ahead."

I stared at him, not knowing whether to grin or frown, not knowing if it'll turn into another round of depression.

"Do you ever wonder why?"

I jiggled my leg and took another puff, "I guess it's 'cause of 'His Will be done' and all that jazz."

You chuckled, a sound I hadn't heard in a while. "So what?" you asked, "How is that fair?"

I could see the fear in your eyes.

"I'll be forgotten. Just another somebody who died. Nobody will remember me. Y'all will carry on with your lives and move on. 'Cause I'll just be another somebody who kicked the bucket."

I opened my mouth to say something as 'The Wanted' cut in.


We could rule the world someday, somehow
But we'll never be as bright as we are now.

We're standing in a light that won't fade,
Tomorrow's coming but this won't change,
Cause some days stay gold forever.
The memory of being here with you,
Is one I'm gonna take my life through,
Cause some days stay gold forever.

Both of us stared at the speakers in shock.

Butterflies, butterflies..
We were meant to fly,
You and I, you and I..
Colours in the sky,
When the innocence is dead and gone,
These will be the times we look back on.

We're standing in a light that won't fade,
Tomorrow's coming but this won't change,
Cause some days stay gold forever.
The memory of being here with you,
Is one I'm gonna take my life through,
Cause some days stay gold forever.

I won't, I won't
Let your memory go
Cause your colors they burn so bright,
Who knows, who knows
What tomorrow will hold
But I know that we'll be alright

Cause some days stay gold forever.

The song faded out and I smirked at you, "I think God just answered you."

That was last month. I said 'goodbye' to you last week. I still keep the memory of you with me, because some memories stay gold forever.

Picture By: Royston Toh ; Trinity

Story Inspired By :
The Wanted ; Gold Forever
JLS ; Love You More

Love Him, Love Him Not

"Let me tell you something, sweetie,"

She whispers quietly into the night

Barely looking at you in your eyes

"I’m not shy. In fact I’m just the opposite,"

She smiles that secret smile of hers and says

"I’m scared, actually."

"I’m scared of you,

I’m scared of us

I’m scared that we're not the same

I’m afraid of what-could-bes"

"I look ahead and I am daunted by the possibilities

I’m worried of our future, if we even have one together

I’m frightened that you don't feel the same way about me

I’m terrified what will happen after that"

"Baby, can you understand?

I don’t want to lose this moment

It’s so special, absolutely magical

It’d hurt so bad if this disappears"

"Darling, take this chance

And believe me for once

I don’t want to lose you

But neither can I have you"

"So sweetheart, let's just hold this moment for now

Just you and me and nothing else

The discrimination falls away

In this mystical world of ours"

Picture By : Royston Toh

Do You

I saw you the other day

Just down in town

Holding her hand

Looking so happy

She stood on her toes

And whispered in your ear

As your laughter rang in mine

I stood silently behind

Do you remember me?

Do you think of me?

Do you wonder of what-could-bees?

Just like me?

Gently you kissed her lips

Tightly you grasped her hands

You smiled that smile

And made my stomach flip

I remember your promises of forever

I remember your whispers of together

All that assurance and safety

That can never be replaced

Do you remember me?

Do you think of me?

Do you wonder of what-could-bes?

Just like me?

What happens if I said I missed you?

What happens if I told you I still love you?

Will you come back?

But perhaps it’s too late now

I should have said something earlier

I should have admitted it quicker

But I’m too late

You’re gone now

Do you remember me?

Do you think of me?

Do you wonder of what-could-bes?

Just like me?

I wonder if you still have

That note I sent you

The one with my heart and soul

The one where I wrote "I love you"

I wonder if you still keep that note

And if you'd take it out to read

I wonder if you'd smile

When you read that paper

Do you remember me?

Do you think of me?

Do you wonder of what-could-bes?

Just like me?

Beauté

“Has anyone told you, you’re beautiful?”
I stared at you, cocking an eyebrow, “Countless. And only ’cause they want something.”

“I mean that they mean it when they say it,” you narrowed your black eyes at me. I never knew that one could have coal black eyes like yours.

I laughed, “No one mean anything they say sweetheart, unless they are bitchy.”

You glared at me, annoyed that I wasn’t taking the conversation seriously. “Can’t you ever be serious? Must you always take everything as a joke?”

I raised my eyebrows, slightly stunned by the seriousness and frustration in your tone. “Well, I’m sorry, but that wasn’t necessary,” I stood up and started to leave.

“Yeah, go on, leave. Run like the coward you are,” you sneered.

I shuddered at the venom in your voice, wondering what had gotten into you. You were normally quite easy-going. Whatever brought about this change in attitude must have been something huge. “Whatever!” I shot back, refusing to let you have the last word.

Picture by: Royston Toh

A Scent

A scent,

Gives way to a touch.

A touch,

              Gives way to a hug.

A hug,

Gives way to a kiss.

But a kiss,

May never gives way to a love.

Piano

Faint strains of the piano tinkled in the background. Her slender fingers skimmed across the keys, belting out a cheerless, melancholic tune. The stale stench of cigarettes and alcohol hung in the air. Dusty lamps cast a warm orange glow around the room, lighting up certain areas, darkening the already shadowy corners. The usual crowd had thinned due to the harsh weather. Most would rather stay home in front of the cozy fireplace with their family, drinking a steamy cup of hot chocolate. The only ones left were the loners, who had gotten so drunk that the barman had to kick them out before they cause a ruckus.

That lone barman now stood silently behind the bar polishing the beer cups with a grubby looking rag in a feeble attempt to appear busy. Swaying slightly to the sorrowful melody, he stacked the dusty cups behind the counter and began to polish the wooden counter-top. The ballad stopped in mid-tune as the lady reached up to adjust the microphone.

From afar, you’d think that there was nothing special about her. Up close, however, men and women alike were stunned by her subtle beauty. She wasn’t much of a head-turner, but there was a quiet grace about her in the way she walked, sat or just simply asked for a mug of beer. She made it sound like she was asking a favour instead of the usual demanding tone you’d normally hear from a buyer. Her hair was a flaxen colour which hung halfway down her back. It was mostly tied up or plaited, but kept out of her face all the same. She was petite and her eyes were in the most peculiar shade of green; at times it was a deep emerald colour, others, it was a clear turquoise shade. Her voice was gentle and dulcet, her snub nose and slightly full lips fitted her tiny, pale heart-shaped face.

The music commenced once more, she played a different song this time. Its tune however, held the same desolated, morose feel as the one before as she begin to sing a song never heard of before; her song:

I remember the time when you told me
That you couldn’t get enough of me
Even though we had just part
Did you know that those words touched my heart?

I remember that day you told me
That the best day of your life
Was everyday that you saw me
Did you know how blissful that made me?

I remember everything about you
Do you remember things about me too?
In my heart you’ll always be
Even though we’ve already part
I know I shouldn’t be saying this but
I miss you

I remember how you used to call me every night
But slowly, those calls somehow stopped
And even when I tried to call you
You couldn’t be bothered to talk

I remember everything about you
Do you remember things about me too?
In my heart you’ll always be
Even though we’ve already part
I know I shouldn’t be saying this but
I miss you

Now you’ve moved on, I see you with her
Does she make you laugh like I used to?
I see you holding her hand so tightly
And I really hope that you’re happy
Cause I know I’ll never be