Leaena's Dear Diary

This...this is loneliness. It's when every sound blooms in agony. The cold seeps through the gaps and I vividly taste my heartbeat like a marred corpse. I question my skin and my mind shivers. I fear no one but myself. Yours even as I fear to be ***

How do I let go of your sleeve, so that I may not burn you? I still faintly smell your hair as I leaned on your shoulder when you carried me. Even now, I am that constant blubbering child, hugging you like I can keep you forever. Even now, I remember

I want to fall on a bed of flowers and hum to the sky. Feel the cold wind while it whispers. The town is too shabby for an old stray like my soul. I want to smell the earth sleeping under me. Feel the stem crumbled beneath me while the sun slumbers u

I will drink this life sober. I will be high on hopes and drunk on poems.  All randezvous with hurdles will be swallowed with angst.  All through winter, I will be addicted on the miscellaneous thoughts of existence.  Use substance of fiction to c

Once in a dawn, if I wake up to dismantle my fantasy, how good will you be? You could simply be my figment of imagination. Maybe, you are just what I imagined tomorrow. Perhaps, I see only your honeyed words.  Haply, you are all, but my silly fiction

I can do it. I will create a sanctuary in my mind. I can be my own salvation. Embrace my worst fear and just live. Just exist because what is so wrong with it?  Yours truly

I just want to close my eyes tenderly, and lay on a meadow with flowers I cannot name. Let my skin tastes dirts. I want to hear the wind in the air and a river hidden in the woods. Once in a little while, I would dive in the river until I learn to br

I will take all of me. I will cultivate all of my miseries and anxiety in hopeful haven. All of my joy in a tiny boxed dreams from wonderland. I will nurture all of anger and fear in the wasteland of beings. Embrace all of my shenanigans in the corne

Death is just a destination. Time is merely a cruel friend. Life is simply a flickering lamp.

Every prose I write sounds like a lovers plea because I feel so deeply. Even a family becomes a neglected partner, a friend, a nefarios better half and an acquaintance, a passing passion. Therefore, I fear I will crumble so greatly if I ever do love

It was betrayal. I am still recovering from it. Depending on who uttered the story, I could be the vicious villian or your very self. I might never acknowledge your narrative. I could throw a tantrum raining parades of insult. I may weep infuriated b

In the hollow sound of dark, I hear the echoes.  Too empty on my own, too suffocated with others. It's either resentment towards the world or hatred for my soul. It's for the fear of you or for the wrath of you. My hands are tied and choices are too

My body is an isle in the lonely sea. My skin burns in the freezing isle. The vapors escaping my lips like a flying dragon. I crumbled my limbs as a cheap imitation of armor. My eyes can barely dare to witness the foggy garden.  I can taste my m

My wings are collecting dust on the shelves of my forgotten dreams. Once I snipped my dear wings, she is dying for the want of sky. After my bare feet felt the drying grass, my bubbling thought is rogue. I have watched the world, I have learned the w

For the last fortnight, I have seen cracks in the seams of my skin. It grows ever so cowardly. I have looked into the mirror and compared my clothes to several husks in the screen. With all the venom in me, I have started to poison my mind. When I gl