I am just a moment
I'm sort of your rehab
Not the one you wanted
But the only one you have
I feel like a drug
You take for the pain
To kiss and to hug
Just affections in vain
Or I'm some sort of doctor
Who you desperately need
But you wanted a rocker
To rock out your heartbeat
What is it about this?
I wonder what's so bad
Is it me or the one you miss?
Do you miss what you had?
He played you all along
But you miss the game
You say everything was wrong
Yet I'm the one you blame
I'm not enough, not complete
Or so you say
I'm a drug when you're sick
To get through the day
Your love's in a coma
You called cure before
I got no diploma
In what you're looking for
You know what's unfair?
I didn't sign up for a patient
Every day I try to bear
With this crazy situation
Is it foolish to keep trying?
To keep treating your disease
To keep trying and fighting
Don't I deserve some sort of peace?
Would you do that for me?
Make me feel like I won?
Would you get on one knee
And say You gotta move on?
You make of my home
An emergency room
A break down, then gone
I'm left with a wound
So I'm letting you go
You're as good as cured
Not really, I know
But I know what I endured
You're check yourself out
Yes, you're out of my hospital
It won't be any sweet out
But you've had enough of my popsicle
So go out and live
Or go back to your past
It's not easy to forgive
But I honestly need some rest
April 9, 2012
March 21, 2012
Something
"Are you ready? We need to go," I say as I enter the bedroom.
Mariel ignores my question as she faces herself in the mirror, and stares at me once I get in the mirror's reflection. "We need to go," I reinforce my request.
"I'm not going. I'm not leaving," says Mariel.
"What do you mean you're not going? What do you mean you're not leaving? You've been waiting for this for three whole days, and I finally got your parents to agree with --"
"I said I'm not leaving," she interrupts me, "I said I'm not going."
"Mariel, this isn't about you, or your family, this is about me. This is about the whole purpose of why you're here and why this all happened. This is about you getting up, getting in the car, and going home."
She doesn't say a thing. I can't help but to notice how beautiful Mariel looks today. In the midst of my reaction to her disobedience, I notice she's different. For the very first time since we've met, she looks like a woman. Maybe it's her tone of decisiveness, or maybe just the gloomy look someone has after they stop crying for so long, but she definitely looks mature and amazingly beautiful.
I proceed. "Please, let's go. We have an hour to meet up with your parents. They're worried about you."
"My parents don't understand my life, or my feelings, or needs," says the 19-year-old girl, which makes me remember the woman she isn't after all. "I don't want to go back home, and they don't want me back either. I'll stay."
This makes me even more furious. "Who says you can stay? Who says this was ever an option?"
After a long minute of silence, I see a tear coming down Mariel's face. "To my parents, I'm part of something. To you, I'm someone who actually makes a difference. What I represent to you, whatever it is, that's more than something. That's everything. I am everything you need, and as of right now, everything you have. For the very first time in my life I don't have to compete with cars, and mansions, and expensive jewelry. I feel full. For the very first time, I really feel like I am the most important thing in someone's life."
I interrupt her monologue. "Don't you think you're more than just something to your family?"
"I could be," she says, "but I'm not."
I could tell her she didn't mean anything to me either, but I know where she's going with this, and she has a point. As a matter of fact, she unfortunately is everything I have. However, exactly because of that, I need her to come with me. Instead of more shouting, I simply ask her why doesn't she feel more than something to her own parents.
"Because they love the thing I represent, not the person I am," she answers. "They love their daughter, a 19-year-old college student who might go to medical school one day. The one who collected Barbies til she was 15, although never learned how to ride a bike." She cries harder. "They love the little baby they had nineteen years ago, and learned to put up with my grown self for the rest of the time. I've had enough of putting up. I've had enough of pretending I'm something that I'm not. I don't hate my parents, and neither do they hate me. It's just that there's just no real love anymore."
This makes me remember my own family. Or so-called family. I never met my father, and just like Mariel, was my mother's only child. I remember how she'd always tell me that I shouldn't feel abandoned for having no father, but instead, feel special for having a mother who could play both roles. She was right. My mother was the best mother someone could ever wish for, working around the clock to keep me in school, pay the bills, and buy us food. We never had too much money, but I can't complain. I've always had food, and water, and electricity. I've always thought kids like Mariel were ungrateful for complaining about everything. They had fancy cars and brand new video games to play with in restaurants. I remember the only time I asked my mom for a Nintendo and she told me I was too smart to waste my time playing with those. I knew by then it was just because we weren't rich, but I played it off. I could see now, however, that Mariel had a point. Not only her, but all the rich kids who have everything everyone wishes for, but lack of the very simple substance of love and belonging.
"Mariel, you can still change things. They're your parents, after all." I say encouragingly, almost running out of arguments.
"I could, but is it all worth it?" She pauses for a second. "Is the blood connection really that big of a something, that you just can't deny or escape for the rest of your life?"
"That's what we've been taught throughout our lives. Who are you to deny your family and heritage now?"
"And who are you to deny my request to break free from a system I don't belong to?"
I am speechless.
She continues. "You can call me needy, or an attention seeker, and I honestly couldn't care less. But here I feel like I belong. Like I'm important. I bet you'd risk your own life for us not to be caught or seen. Do you know how it feels to actually be three whole days with someone? Eat together, and stare at each other, and listen to our breathing when there's nothing to be said. I've never had that before. Everyone was always too busy planning parties, booking trips, buying beach houses. No one would just stop and enjoy each other's company. And that's because they don't really love each other... They just put up with the system they created."
"So know you saying what we have is... Love?" I didn't know how to ask this.
"Whatever we have, this is real. This is something. And even if it has its flaws, like any other thing does, and even if I had to put up with you and you had to put up with me, like any other person has to do sometimes, at least I know there's nothing else that matters beyond you and I. Anyone can say you hold my present, and I'm the key to your future. But as of right now, I hold your present, and you are the key to my future. A key to a door that I'm willing to open, that I'm willing to put up with."
"Mariel, this is absolutely nuts. What do you want from me? You want me to marry you, and have kids, and live a happily ever after? Look at me, Mariel. Look at who I am and what I've done. Do you really expect there's any possibility something like that could ever happen?"
"No," her answer actually surprises me, "but I'd rather live a life that I'm not sure of than to live a life I already know the ending. I go back home, to my family, and everything will resume to normal in a month or so. If I stay, there's absolutely nothing we can't do."
"You're crazy." That's all I can say.
"I agree. And it feels good to be crazy. Finally, I'm something."
Mariel ignores my question as she faces herself in the mirror, and stares at me once I get in the mirror's reflection. "We need to go," I reinforce my request.
"I'm not going. I'm not leaving," says Mariel.
"What do you mean you're not going? What do you mean you're not leaving? You've been waiting for this for three whole days, and I finally got your parents to agree with --"
"I said I'm not leaving," she interrupts me, "I said I'm not going."
"Mariel, this isn't about you, or your family, this is about me. This is about the whole purpose of why you're here and why this all happened. This is about you getting up, getting in the car, and going home."
She doesn't say a thing. I can't help but to notice how beautiful Mariel looks today. In the midst of my reaction to her disobedience, I notice she's different. For the very first time since we've met, she looks like a woman. Maybe it's her tone of decisiveness, or maybe just the gloomy look someone has after they stop crying for so long, but she definitely looks mature and amazingly beautiful.
I proceed. "Please, let's go. We have an hour to meet up with your parents. They're worried about you."
"My parents don't understand my life, or my feelings, or needs," says the 19-year-old girl, which makes me remember the woman she isn't after all. "I don't want to go back home, and they don't want me back either. I'll stay."
This makes me even more furious. "Who says you can stay? Who says this was ever an option?"
After a long minute of silence, I see a tear coming down Mariel's face. "To my parents, I'm part of something. To you, I'm someone who actually makes a difference. What I represent to you, whatever it is, that's more than something. That's everything. I am everything you need, and as of right now, everything you have. For the very first time in my life I don't have to compete with cars, and mansions, and expensive jewelry. I feel full. For the very first time, I really feel like I am the most important thing in someone's life."
I interrupt her monologue. "Don't you think you're more than just something to your family?"
"I could be," she says, "but I'm not."
I could tell her she didn't mean anything to me either, but I know where she's going with this, and she has a point. As a matter of fact, she unfortunately is everything I have. However, exactly because of that, I need her to come with me. Instead of more shouting, I simply ask her why doesn't she feel more than something to her own parents.
"Because they love the thing I represent, not the person I am," she answers. "They love their daughter, a 19-year-old college student who might go to medical school one day. The one who collected Barbies til she was 15, although never learned how to ride a bike." She cries harder. "They love the little baby they had nineteen years ago, and learned to put up with my grown self for the rest of the time. I've had enough of putting up. I've had enough of pretending I'm something that I'm not. I don't hate my parents, and neither do they hate me. It's just that there's just no real love anymore."
This makes me remember my own family. Or so-called family. I never met my father, and just like Mariel, was my mother's only child. I remember how she'd always tell me that I shouldn't feel abandoned for having no father, but instead, feel special for having a mother who could play both roles. She was right. My mother was the best mother someone could ever wish for, working around the clock to keep me in school, pay the bills, and buy us food. We never had too much money, but I can't complain. I've always had food, and water, and electricity. I've always thought kids like Mariel were ungrateful for complaining about everything. They had fancy cars and brand new video games to play with in restaurants. I remember the only time I asked my mom for a Nintendo and she told me I was too smart to waste my time playing with those. I knew by then it was just because we weren't rich, but I played it off. I could see now, however, that Mariel had a point. Not only her, but all the rich kids who have everything everyone wishes for, but lack of the very simple substance of love and belonging.
"Mariel, you can still change things. They're your parents, after all." I say encouragingly, almost running out of arguments.
"I could, but is it all worth it?" She pauses for a second. "Is the blood connection really that big of a something, that you just can't deny or escape for the rest of your life?"
"That's what we've been taught throughout our lives. Who are you to deny your family and heritage now?"
"And who are you to deny my request to break free from a system I don't belong to?"
I am speechless.
She continues. "You can call me needy, or an attention seeker, and I honestly couldn't care less. But here I feel like I belong. Like I'm important. I bet you'd risk your own life for us not to be caught or seen. Do you know how it feels to actually be three whole days with someone? Eat together, and stare at each other, and listen to our breathing when there's nothing to be said. I've never had that before. Everyone was always too busy planning parties, booking trips, buying beach houses. No one would just stop and enjoy each other's company. And that's because they don't really love each other... They just put up with the system they created."
"So know you saying what we have is... Love?" I didn't know how to ask this.
"Whatever we have, this is real. This is something. And even if it has its flaws, like any other thing does, and even if I had to put up with you and you had to put up with me, like any other person has to do sometimes, at least I know there's nothing else that matters beyond you and I. Anyone can say you hold my present, and I'm the key to your future. But as of right now, I hold your present, and you are the key to my future. A key to a door that I'm willing to open, that I'm willing to put up with."
"Mariel, this is absolutely nuts. What do you want from me? You want me to marry you, and have kids, and live a happily ever after? Look at me, Mariel. Look at who I am and what I've done. Do you really expect there's any possibility something like that could ever happen?"
"No," her answer actually surprises me, "but I'd rather live a life that I'm not sure of than to live a life I already know the ending. I go back home, to my family, and everything will resume to normal in a month or so. If I stay, there's absolutely nothing we can't do."
"You're crazy." That's all I can say.
"I agree. And it feels good to be crazy. Finally, I'm something."
January 18, 2012
The King's Curse
How good is a kingdom
Where I can't share my throne
Where I don't have freedom
To call you my own
How good is a palace
Be wealthy and known
Be Wonderland's Alice
Yet I don't feel home
They make me feel welcome
But that, I'm dismissing
So they question me how come?
I tell them you're missing
So many want power
I just want your beauty
I might be a coward
Because I have a duty
A king that I am
But wasn't born to be
I live by a plan
Invented before me
They look up to the man
Who feels like a boy
Won't ever understand
What a title can destroy
I walk out and wave
Only looking for you
A castle or a cave...
It's the same without us two
Living in darkness
The sun isn't bright enough
I'd give up my highness
To just have your love
I feel sick and I feel cursed
And there's nothing to do
And quite frankly, the worst
Is to have so much love due
I scream, and I run away
But where should I go?
I ask about you, they say
Sorry sir, we don't know
I know that one day
You'll come back, as you wrote
I'll leave what I may
We'll sail on my boat
I dream of the sky
That will guide us ahead
And the sea, blue and wide
I won't lead, I'll be led
I still dream I live a lie
And you're really not dead
Because to have you and I
Wouldn't care dying instead
Where I can't share my throne
Where I don't have freedom
To call you my own
How good is a palace
Be wealthy and known
Be Wonderland's Alice
Yet I don't feel home
They make me feel welcome
But that, I'm dismissing
So they question me how come?
I tell them you're missing
So many want power
I just want your beauty
I might be a coward
Because I have a duty
A king that I am
But wasn't born to be
I live by a plan
Invented before me
They look up to the man
Who feels like a boy
Won't ever understand
What a title can destroy
I walk out and wave
Only looking for you
A castle or a cave...
It's the same without us two
Living in darkness
The sun isn't bright enough
I'd give up my highness
To just have your love
I feel sick and I feel cursed
And there's nothing to do
And quite frankly, the worst
Is to have so much love due
I scream, and I run away
But where should I go?
I ask about you, they say
Sorry sir, we don't know
I know that one day
You'll come back, as you wrote
I'll leave what I may
We'll sail on my boat
I dream of the sky
That will guide us ahead
And the sea, blue and wide
I won't lead, I'll be led
I still dream I live a lie
And you're really not dead
Because to have you and I
Wouldn't care dying instead
July 30, 2011
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