Somebody Else - The 1975

Living in Your Eyes

You take the flowers, mountains,
trees, rivers, valleys, canyons,
stars, the sun and moon in the sky
and pack them up in both your eyes.
Those diluted brown pupils, filled with
the Seven Wonders, legends and myths,
store the whole world as if they were
crystal balls placed at home as a decor.
Gently, you use your fingers to hold up my chin
for me to read your innocent grin.
You ask me to look into your bright eyes,
for the world is dismantled and stuffed inside.
"Look at me if you want the universe,
meanwhile, I'll see if I like what I observe."
Your starry eyes are such wonderful gifts
but this is not how I wish to live.
My world is out there with scents and sounds,
with gravity that keeps my feet on the ground.
Sometimes, to love means to let go.
Let's set free our worlds and liberate our souls.

Life is Strange

I scraped my knees while praying from evening to dawn,
hoping God would tell me where it all went wrong.
Little did I know that prayers are never answered in words,
they only come as painful lessons that we find absurd:
like how I’ve never known what a breaking heart sounds like
until you hurt me the way I hurt you with a mouthful of spikes;
like how I’ve never realized Selfishness has a face
until I looked into the mirror at the reflection of a disgrace.

People do things they know they’ll regret, isn’t life strange?
It is only when they lose everything, they start to change.
I crossed my crooked heart to be who you want me to be
but when I try to be that person, I just don’t feel like I am me.

Sweet darling, you have been my hero, but I am no heroine
when my pride leaves us with love like heroin.
We’re two little people living in this big mad world,
dying to feel alive in this maze mapped like a whirl;
two demi-lovers standing at a dead-end we put ourselves in,
hopelessly craving a door on the wall to get us out of this labyrinth.
Ignorance would say, “when there is a will, there is a way.”
But there is no going back for two hearts without enough faith.


(A poetry response to Life is Strange ©Silas Tsui:

When things go wrong and nobody knows why,
I wonder if God is watching us above the sky.
Beneath our skins are lust, sloth pride,
Not to mention gluttony, greed and envy underlie.
I cross my heart and hope to die,
For my wrath to finally subside.

People regret for what they should've,
So, time for a few words to whom I'm fond of,
"Our relationship in essence, was nothing more than Demi-love,
But, I'll always keep in mind that we could've.")

Roses

Remember to bring these
roses when you come visit
the stone where my angels
and demons finally meet.

Lay the flowers upon
my name and the dark years
that are finally over,
as there will come a beautiful dawn.

The ache in my chest
that I prayed to end every night
has finally stopped hurting
for this peaceful rest.

When the man dressed in black
says, "she was sick, she fought,
but life isn't meant for everyone,"
remember that I'm not dead.

When the woman in a black gown
sobs and shivers, she is my mother,
please hold her tight for me and
do not make a sound.

Look at these roses, vivid and red,
bring them to me when I am asleep,
one for us, one for the ending pain,
one for my glorious days ahead.

Two Suns

From a toddler crying for the pacifier to a flower that craves being walked on,
From the smell of rain to the scented perfume on a Shame,
From mother to a child,
From the big bang to the world beyond the horizon over the ocean,
From a pat on the head to a million pieces shattered on the ground,
From a body covered in veins to one with only four limbs, two horns and a pointy tail,
From a guarded castle to the blade on a guillotine that paints blood of thousands,
From intertwined fingers to bruised knuckles,
From dimpled cheeks to a red canal across the wrist,
From daybreak to when even the clock can no longer tell time,
From an atlas to a dead end in the alley,
From human to ashes,
From everything to nothing,
From first to last;
There is a Chinese saying which is roughy translated to as 'there is never a feast that can keep its guests at the table for ever',
Meaning whatever comes together falls apart.
If infinity ever comes to its limits, it is going to look like two suns in the same solar system, burning anything that comes near.

Love and Lust on Lamma

"I understand that you don't want to have sex with me just yet, but I'm sure it's okay to have some fun," he said, holding her face in his hands, then brushed his lips across hers softly. She kissed him back. She poked him on the chest and started drawing patterns irregularly with her finger. He giggled, still having his eyes on her; perhaps the velvet touch of hers was irresistibly ticklish and provocative. The rain tapped on the windows and muffled the sounds from the television. Chest to chest, nose to nose, they were just a heartbeat away and it was just a thin piece of cloth hanging loose on her torso that kept their skins from fully touching. It was the first time she had ever been so close to an angel. Or, the reincarnation of an angel.

She held him down and kissed him again, on his forehead, his cheek, his neck. He sat back up again and had his arms around her waist. She traced the back of her finger along the bridge of his nose, reaching the tip of it, she playfully tapped two times as if it was fragile as glass. "The thing I don't like about hooking up is because I'm really insecure of my body," she whispered. There was a minute of stillness before he blinked, as if he was searching desperately in the sound of the rain for words he could say. She looked away, feeling as though his silence had made her heart twitch for a second or more. He bit his own teeth when he noticed the slight disappointment in her eyes that she accidentally gave away. The muscles around his jawbone were tightened and his incredible jawline made him look even more attractive than he already was.

"Put your arms around my neck," he said. He carried her to the room, settled her on his bed and took off her clothes. Both of their bodies, against each other beneath the sheets, passionately exchanging the different temperature of warmth. She could hear his heart pounding viciously like the rhythm of her favorite Breathe Carolina song, Hit and Run. She felt him breathing into her ear as he opened his mouth and whispered, "What I think is, you don't have to feel insecure of your body. You are amazing. You are exactly what I want."

He tightened his grip on her legs as he ran his lips from her neck down to her collarbone. Her short moans were almost inaudible but he did not miss any of them as they were humming to each of the times when he pressed his full lips against her breasts and sucked on her nipples hardly. She felt his breath warming her whole body and it felt exceptionally arousing when he exhaled on those lips between her legs. The bed sheet got wetter as he went on making out with her lower body. He looked up to see her hands pulling the bed sheet on both sides, "I'm in love," he said to her as he got back up to kiss her on the forehead, "you're amazing."

The dim light in his bedroom was slightly blinding her, but isn't it the best part - letting lips do what hands do, letting hands do what eyes do? He slid inside of her, feeling like he was tightly wrapped up in her love. The rain outside got heavier just like their breathing, their hearts beat faster as they felt closer to each other than to the world outside of this little house, on Lamma Island, that she had no idea how she ended up in. She didn't care - she was there, she was high, and she was in love, with this rare moment of isolation distancing her away from the flashing neon lights back in the city that always slipped their way through her curtains at night. "Do you like that?" He smiled and asked.

"I like you," her soft voice came out like the tunes nymphs would listen to in the Kingdom above the clouds. It could never rain in the bedroom but they were surely bringing on the thunder inside. She crouched on the pillow while she was bending over for him. If there was a hurricane here in his room, it would be named after him for the mess he had made of her, both inside and out. Their bodies pounded against each other until it was late into the night.

The thin ray of light seeped through his curtains and shed upon the books on his desk. It had stopped raining and the sound of the sparrows jumping here and there, shaking the leaves on the branches, woke her up from her sound sleep. She walked on tip-toe out of the bedroom to collect her underwear and clothes that were laying on the floor. It was daybreak when she went out to catch the first ferry home and it was heartbreak when he woke up to the empty spot next to him on the bed. If there were names for each time it rained, he would name last night's after her.