one penny for myself and the rest for those whom i didn’t cherish ( and should have ) – spent and lost

by ty

in which withered plants are perhaps, given the chance to breathe again for four seconds, just four. 


i’ve clambered out of the well to stumble into something entirely new in fresh skin, albeit peeling and scarred at the wrong places. likened to the concept of shutting oneself out from the outside world physically and mentally in one of Haruki Murakami’s books, i gave it a shot – and i survived, barely. with the easy way out through mild abstinence from social media and keeping my phone’s battery flat for certain periods of the day, i gave myself time to think, to think about everything i had done wrong and only everything i had done wrong because i had never given myself closure, neither had i thought much about it.

and deeping deeper into the soil with chipped fingernails and livid veins left a growing gradient of emptiness.

the past few days have been clouded with something unexplainable, as though a filter of some sort’s been plastered to my thoughts and vision alike. it feels like nothing’s falling into place when everything’s in perfect order, it feels like you’re empty but bloated – and you’re stuck in a buoy but sinking with the illusion of the sky and the fresh air burning in your lungs.

but there’s something fundamentally wrong with claiming that things aren’t going in the right order because they are, and you can’t put your finger on what’s teeming beneath the layers. it feels like it’d take time, patience and stamina to pry the sheets open even though they’re made of fine chiffon and you have memories of pulling them apart effortlessly on a daily basis prior to this. it’s something everyone can do, but you’re struggling.

lights are present, your cheeks are burning up, your hands are trembling and ice cold but you’re awake – you aren’t drowning, you aren’t melting, neither are you losing yourself.

high up above or down below – we never know where rock bottom is.


it took me awhile to realize that we’ve gone far beyond the point of bittersweet. because in a span of a year i shuttled between thinking that people were more delightful as a pair and it’s inverse statement.

a few months back while i was clearing the files on my computer i stumbled upon a document containing things which i had never thought of telling you, things which i decided would be best to keep to myself – but it was truly my first step towards being a sinner. i used to speak of wishing for anesthesia, concealment, keeping grotesque scars ( then merely skin deep ) from your sight, maintaining distance lest you heard the clanging of chains on my weary ankles and injured knees. i reflected on getting upset over trivial matters and being unable to express myself fully and clearly before you, being over sensitive and filling my entire physical containments with angst and air cold enough to slice, to cut, to end.

i stopped there with a sentence filled with stumbled apologies and sepia memories of choking up a little – but it was far from amusing, because it didn’t take much for me to realize that at that point of time i had been indulging in an illusion of victimizing myself and categorizing the emptiness i had felt in a fleeting second under things which had been much bigger.

we never know the bottom of the well is until we get there – and even if we do, it remains a mystery because there’s still leeway separating us from the core of the earth, of our entire being.

but i was in the sky, i should’ve been – and i rightfully was, until i decided that perhaps the sunlight was blinding and all the mural on the ceiling needed was a fresh coat of ignorance and ebony.

a year down the road i felt i was sufficiently mature to think for myself, to dictate my emotions even though i never managed to pull the thorned twines apart, and whilst fumbling with these monstrosities, i disregarded the emotions of the people around me. funny how i now find myself reliant on emotions to function – when treasuring it was never my forte.

and it wasn’t until she brought it up and the first thought that came to my head was why’re you bringing this up it’s been far too long that i realized i never learnt, neither had i become any more mature.

i’m not someone who let’s things go easily, but i let the wrong things slip through the cracks.


there are things that i should’ve told you then, and there were things that i shouldn’t have told you then. i took pride in not telling you the things that i should’ve come clean about. and that was my first step towards becoming a sinner.

and perhaps, i’m still as childish as i ever was – because even though i’ve told myself to apologise to you properly i haven’t been able to do so.


i converted the documents with the unsent paragraphs i wrote for you into a pdf file an hour ago.

i promised myself that i’d learn, because regardless of how much she loved to imitate the firmaments with her burning palms against the glass, the atmosphere’s far too thin in the skies to breathe; and drowning didn’t feel as good as she had expected it to.