brander

Don't look at me Don't talk to me Don't touch me Go away! I want to be alone It's my fate It's my curse You try to understand me But you can't Because you have no idea What I have to endure But when I look around You're still here For some reason You won't leave... (Thank you...)

"I am the boy who wants to love your misshapen words, your broken hearted pieces, and your ink split fingers. I am the boy who wants to kiss those scar tattooed arms, that tear stained face and mend what has been broken. I am the boy who can and will make your heart sing poetry again." If only he would say it now like he had then.

Would you ever know the feeling, Of being twisted, over and over. Much like a string of high-tension cord; Ready to snap at any moment. You are barely controlling this swell of emotion. Keeping it taut, lest it burst from the surface. A plastic smile serves as your only defense; Witty banter, to stave off a deeper inquiry. You hide the signs of your sickness; Quickly easing the pressure. Whilst appearing to adjust the suit, You move through the crowd like a fading wisp. Rushed, sweating and just barely contained. You duck into the shadows, so you might breathe again. -Chen Yuan Wen, Broken World Series, 13th November 2013

I am single, but I am loved. I am not a genius, but I am intelligent. I am not breathtaking, but I have beauty. I am not a saint, but I am kind. To the world, I am not perfect. But for someone, I am.