' articles ' by elya

‘ articles ’

By Elya

For that writing is such a lonely process.

The following content are nowhere near dissing or mocking any party.

It is simply words that I, myself is too coward or too late to convey.

Emotions are pure and raw so sit back, Indulge it with perhaps a cup of coffee or tea or hot chocolate with marshmallows on it.

This is for haris noh and aina wahida And my cat, muji.

Comments and feedback can be done through dm On @elya_ramli (twt/ig)

Loving

I do not mind; If loving you is to have me give out my lungs for you, Just to make sure you can always breathe, If loving you means I have to lose everything else, Then so be it.

If loving you meaning I have to sacrifice half of my life, I do not mind.

Because loving you is worth it, An oblivious, A new life, A breathe of relief.

Its like cleansing my soul and putting it into a new body.

You give me life and I want to give you one back Even if it comes with consequences.

So, stay. And be here with me.

Something magical

Meeting you is magical and I am not lying, Throughout the days of talking and exchanging ideas, We went through a full ‘cold’ moon, A solstice, Witness the close approach of the moon and mars, Got to see the ring of the fire eclipse, And the quadrantid meteor shower, And damn I got my 5th dean’s list.

This is a magical, something that I could never have.

This is not ‘The Notebook’ or ‘The Great Gastby’, I am not deserving when it comes to love, yours especially.

This is the reality. Reality is life.

And life never does me a favour except for fucking things up.

Steps

I know you are walking away, You are taking opposite direction from me every day, But still I leave all the signs for you anyway, To make sure you know the way, To come back to me one day.

Iambic pentameter

My iambic pentameter is all about you, These next lines till the end are for and about you.

Remember when I told you that your departure is my death?

I did not kid, not even a bit.

I love you with my whole life And when you left, You took half of it.

You took half of my lungs as I forgot to breathe properly when you turn your back against me, the heart of mine, which was broken into pieces, you took most of it away, in a form of how I hand it to you, but keep it.

I want you to remember me Be it in a good way or a bad way, I just want you to acknowledge of what this soul had given you and what It capable of giving you more, If only you just come back Please come back.

Dbt skills: interpersonal effectiveness

If only I get to the interpersonal effectiveness handout before you leave, Perhaps you won’t leave, Perhaps I could hold on to you, Perhaps you do not have to go away, And maybe you could have stay.

Letters

I still write you letters, Messages in bottles, Notes on orange peels, Short sentences on Starbucks napkins, At college, in the lrt And in between the distance from here to the moon, As the sun emerges from the surface of the earth, Or when it is at its peak, During the night when the moon replace your absence, And the letters read; Of how my days went and questions of yours too, Of endless wishes and hope, But there’s no way of getting your answer, So I become delusional until my dreams felt so real, And the nightmares that I wake up from at almost every 3am, Become alive or so I thought.

You are an ocean of happiness I cannot baptize myself in, So I walk this earth sinfully, Of the guilt I had for doing you wrong.

Just a waste of space

I love you but there’s something wrong about it.

I tied my heart with electrified vein and kept the Broken pieces together just to make sure I love You enough but more than myself, I had so little of that ‘L’ word so I tried to share That small amount with you, Assure you of my love, Although its little but its all for you.

And I hide my demons, my negativities, Only portraying for you my possibilities and comfort.

I opened a dictionary of ‘what did I messed up’ Or visit the museum to check on the history of my Wrong doings to see if I ever repeat it again, But to no lead I gain, You were an intricate riddle which worth taking time to crack, I kept all the bad to myself, Enough to not let you down, But perhaps I kept it too much that I let myself down.

Though what good did it bring me?

Because you still leave anyways

Have you ever wonder?

Along the arguments of me and you, between me and you, And our future too, Not once have you ever asked me what I want from you.

My current fear

I am so afraid of giving up and stop waiting, I am afraid that when I am finally fallen into despair, And had moved on, You come back again..

So, I wait.

Elya, do not kill yourself, I repeat. Do not kill yourself.

Look up at the vault of heaven, At the indifferent stars which are shining bright, Listen to the whispers of the moon, Feel the night breeze kissing your cheeks, Let go of the fist, And feast your eye to the wonder of the night sky.

Feel that hope rushing in your blood, Running through the vein passing through the brain And your feet, Feel the ground beneath it, You can feel the gravity holding on to you, Stay.

I know everyone else seems like they do not care, So will the sun keeps on rising everyday, And the earth will still revolves on its axis, But imagine the sunrise you’re gonna miss, The sound of the enchanted forests, The hustle bustle of Kuala Lumpur, The last season of The Crown, The sight of the Northern Lights, All the Christmas movies, And him.

Here’s what happened.

When you leave, I exchange your absence with metaphors, Twist our memories into transcript, Of a story I’m gonna publish, Share to the rest of the world someday.

Sometimes I feel poetic, So I write you a poem, Perhaps more than an ‘a’, I type or scribble down, For what may seem the last taste of your presence into words, Making sure to get a grip of those relish before it evaporates, Like how feelings supposed to be vulnerable to time.

And with every pages that I wrote, Hope in me was for you to be form by the words, Untie yourself from the brim of the book, Jump out and be here with me, But you didn’t.

So I mutter the words of missing and regrets of losing you, In hope that the wind will blow those phonics and dictations, And find you.

But it failed to find you, So I close this book and put down the small Version of the tree with lead at the end, Be one with of my feelings and the reality, I went to the door and made sure it is wedged.

For that, when you come back, You don’t have to find the key, Because the door is there, Open wide and glad, To welcome you again.

Now here what I did

I stopped listening to your playlist, I stopped re-reading your letter, I stopped putting you in my prayers, Or in the whispers of wishes to the shooting stars.

I just stopped hoping, But I still am waiting, I just want the Lord to pinch your small heart one day, To come back and we could exchange names again, Listen to how our days went, Await for the full moon just to be in awe of it, And send each other letters again every week, Although yours never arrive to my place.

But I just want you to be here again, In every morning, During the night, In the rain, And under the scorching sun, I just want you back.

r.e.a.d.y

to think again, I am never properly ready for anything, It’s just that I have to do it anyway, Cause I do not have an eternal youth to spend on waiting to be ready, Life is not about waiting for that perfect moment, There is no such thing as the perfect moment, Say, To confess or perhaps to propose.

It’s either that person or you will die tomorrow or that person maybe be with someone else by next week.

So, just do it.

My kind of suffering

To wait or to forget, Both are equally painful to do.

But sometimes I do not know which to choose Between those two, And it is the kind of suffering I go through.

Is it fanthom or fathom??

It was true, I am not your kind of forever, But to me, You were my infinite.

And I guess that’s the reason this fathom of abandonment has caused me to go haywire, For a bit.

kind

maybe, I wasn’t the right kind of forever for you.

But you were like An infinite to me

Here’s what I want to hear when I’m killing myself.

1. hey, Elya. Step away from the window.

2. Elya, do you wanna go eat?

3. look at the stars/moon/clouds 4. elya, It’s not your fault 5. I love you 6. I know it is pointless, but its gonna be okay 7. please live for me 8. please live for tomorrow 9. tomorrow’s gonna be different.

10. I will be there for you 11. please do not leave me 12. I am here now, please stop what you’re doing.

13. don’t you want to explore anymore cafes 14. I am sorry elya but please live 15. here, take my hand 16. you mean so much to me

Help me

And sometimes too, When I ask you to call, When I told you that I cut, When I request for a hug, When I told you I wanna die, I just want my pain to be acknowledged, And be inform that, Neither of this, Is my fault.

I just want to be comfort, Rock me back and forth, And tell me that its gonna be okay.

But instead

I locked the door of my bedroom, Shut the windows, Unfold the curtains, Hug my kness, Mumble to myself, Convincing myself.

That it is alright, When at most, My brain is saying that, I am not alright, And I SHOULD JUST DIE.

Your life was my life’s best part

The universe one day, Will become a cosmic boneyard, Strewn with remnants of dead stars, And untold stories, But I am glad I met you.

How lucky am I, To be born in this generation, Where the whole life of you exist within the reach of An email, A letter, A phone call, And perhaps an arm length.

I could just say that, I am forever grateful And convinced, That I don’t mind to die now.

Welcome

To the gray area of being suicidal In between staying alive or ending it all, With trembling hands holding the blade, And sweaty palms of nervousness, Oh in this chest, Home an unbearable pain, Of one that can never breathe through, No matter how wide you open the window, There is still not enough air, To occupy your lungs, So you hyperventilate like hell, And then you die, I mean sleep, With the thought that you have already die.

This is for Carl Sagan

Sometimes, This vastness of different species, Of animals, And flowers, And human beings, You just gotta accept, That no one really cares, Let me rephrase that, No one genuinely cares.

And you just gotta accept; You are alone in your battles.

I say ‘sometimes’ a lot

Sometimes people hear you, But they don’t listen, They see you in need of help, So they pretend to stretch out their hand to help.

But do not take it, Cause they’ll slam you into an ocean of guilt, That you hurting, is hurting them too, They twist your words into a noose, Handing it back to you, When they rescued you, They’re honestly just saying “fuck you,”

Mrt pasar seni – mrt maluri

To the Guy with white shoes, With a black lacoste snapback, Perfected with of what seems like a velvety(?) jacket, On it traced the word ‘amour’, Love, I do not know what seems to bother you, Or what cause you the disappointed face, Of where you’re going with that bags of yours, I hope you will be okay, You will be okay.

Thank you for reading it through.

Thank you for taking some time off your 24 hours to appreciate the humble yet lacking pieces of mine.

I am, of course, nowhere near to call myself a writer or an author, but this self-publishing decision is a stepping stone for me in becoming one, hopefully.

I am forever thankful to the people who encourage me and support the fuck out of me in crossing this quite-long-due bucket list.

And thank you too for those who guide me and expose me to the unexpected event of both fortunate and unfortunate that sparks ideas for this zine. Mygod what an experience, but thank you, really. Sarcasm aside.