22 Sept 2024
forgiving is indeed a very noble act
my deepest desire.
mother's words
- Anak derhaka
- Bodoh
- Anak tak boleh diharap
- Tak payah mintak maaf. Aku taknak tengok muka kau. Mengalir air mata darah pun aku takkan maafkan.
19 Sept 2024
manipulation and entitlement of a mother. (respect? i'm losing it.)
Just a late night thought.
As a child, do you actually owe your parents? Especially your mother? I’m not talking about devoted mothers, but the ones who feel entitled to everything. They think they deserve their child’s respect even when they show no respect for their child’s mental well-being. All they care about is their reputation.
I have someone in my life like this. She always complains that our parents never cared for her, but she’s doing the same thing to her son. If you're reading this, yes, I’m talking about you. I never say anything about it, always agreeing because you're older. But sometimes I wonder, what goes through your mind before you call your child dumb, stupid, and so on?
I understand you want your son to excel academically, but why must you keep using those hurtful words? I know he's not your biological son, but can’t you consider his feelings? He's only 8 years old. He might not fully realize yet that what you're saying is harmful, probably because of the way you’ve brainwashed him to think that you're doing this out of love. But as someone who was once a daughter to our mother, I know it’s hurtful, and I still remember it.
Do you ever consider that you might be scarring him for life? That your words could make him grow up to be insecure, with low self-esteem? You claim to care and love him, but I don’t see that in how you treat him. You treat him as though he doesn’t have feelings. I don’t care if you're trying to "toughen him up." He could grow up lacking empathy, becoming just like his biological parents, whom you constantly criticize.
To me, you're no better than your ex-husband. He may have been physically abusive, but you're torturing your son mentally. If you told me to ask him whether you’re hurting him, of course, I wouldn’t get any clear answer. He’ll always defend you because you’ve made him believe you're doing this for his own good. He won't realize how hurtful it is until one day, he learns that he could have received real love from someone who wasn’t selfish or lacking in empathy.
I also hate how entitled you feel, believing that your son owes you respect even after you call him stupid. Sure, you apologize afterward, but seriously? There are so many other ways to teach and nurture him, but you choose to be harsh. Your excuses are garbage.
You always say I have a short temper, but you're worse. You call our dad crazy and say he should get treatment, but you're no better. In fact, you're worse. One last thing, I hope you stop looking down on other people.
10 Sept 2024
rose coloured you
He often asks me,
“What do you think of me?”
Oh, my dear,
If only you could read my mind,
Step inside, and see through my eyes—
Every thought of you
Pulls me deeper,
Makes me fall harder.
You make me smile like a fool
With every conversation we share,
My heart races,
Butterflies swirl inside me—
So many, I think I could burst.
That’s how I feel,
That’s what I think.
But, oh, my dear,
If only you knew,
If only you could see
How I see you.
9 Sept 2024
the unsent letters
Hands dance swiftly,
Blank paper waiting to be filled,
My tears witness every line,
Now forever etched upon it,
Plead, coax, hate, love,
Unfolded on the sheets of paper,
Which now increasingly pile up,
And become only a relic,
When life has flown away,
Fire licks,
As a symbol of eternal love.
8 Sept 2024
echoes of a month
A month ago,
We wandered under the Eiffel Tower,
Hand in hand,
Romance etched in a kiss,
The tower, a silent witness.
A month ago,
Joy twisted into pain,
Screams became the background,
Familiar now, yet still shocking,
Tears in shattered eyes,
Footsteps fading away,
Leaving a trembling form,
Wishing time would pause.
Now, a month later,
She moves on,
Life regains its hue,
Yet echoes of the past remain,
He stands there,
Returning once again.
the room within
My mind is like a cluttered room,
Chaotic and unkempt,
Filled with scraps of imagined art,
Pages scrawled with jumbled thoughts.
I’m unsure of what I’m thinking,
It’s a mess, tangled and frayed.
They say a mind reflects its owner,
Perhaps that’s how others see me.