Darkness and peace.

Darkness; no matter

 exhilarating, reticent, divine: chaotic. 

Peace; no matter 

empty, tedious, white: free.  

-Fa

Thank yous.

I like a special kind of thank you. Multiple reasoned.

 At the end of the day. Politely. In response to an everyday doing such as fetching water, 

or telling a story or making hair or passing the remote to someone. 

And then they look you in the eye, and say "thank you". 

You know just then and right there, it is actually for everything 

they never knew how say thank you to. it is a thanks to your kindness. 

Your affection. Your care. And regard. 

It is a thanks to your beautiful nature, a million dollar "thank you"

 hidden inside a regular thank you. 

I like these kind of thank yous. 

-Fa

The unspoken promises of a writer

You can't just be "not a writer"

anymore, sweetheart.

You breathe poetry.

You devour words, they rush in your veins. 

You're the unspoken promises of a writer, a romantic.

You are literature yourself. 

You can't just thrash it all away

in the name of  realness and altruism. 

You are much more. 

-Fa

I want God.

I don't want peace. 

I don't want laughter. 

I want love. I want God.

I want thunder and lightening. 

I want scars from wounds that talk of 

horrors and fright. 

I don't want existence. 

I want life. 

-Fa

Mother.

You are your mother. 

And if you're not,

you've been your mother once. 

And if you haven't been,

you will be your mother one day. 

-Fa

Finding myself. (2)

It's hard,

don't you understand?

How can I possess you 

with something that 

I haven't even found?

For you to be mine,

I have to be mine first.

Only then, 

can you be truly mine.

And I, completely yours. 

You'll be me then.
I'll be you. 

And oh, 

what a beautiful thing to be. 

-Fa

Not even metaphorical.

I'm in love with you,

with all my heart

and the ache probing through it. 

I'm in love with you,

with all my fears and tragedies. 

and scars and fortunes.

With all my soul

and stars

and jinxes

and spirit,

I'm in love with you. 

And it's not even metaphorical. 

-Fa

Whole.

I have seen what you haven't seen yourself. 
You are not bits and pieces. 
You are whole. 

-Fa

I find you poetic.

I find your scars luminary. 

I find you poetic. 

Your taste is ethereal,

 like sadness. 

On top of that, you're kind. 

You can't scare me off, sweetheart, 

and it is time you accept that. 

-Fa

Miss you more.

I think I miss you more now. 

More than yesterday,

more than the day you left,

more than the day after that, 

more than all the days after that.

More than I've missed you all my life. 

I don't know,

maybe its just a feeling. 

But you know, 

its a really sad one.

-Fa

Numb.

My soul feels numb

without your warm words. 

Don't ever leave me. 

-Fa

Scrap and litter.

You can never comprehend the labor it took

to salvage all the

 scrap and litter 

from my mutilated heart.

Only to fall in love with you 

Each day

And each day more. 

-Fa

Matter of fact.

Loving me should be a matter of fact. 

Infatuation doesn't count. 

Don't mix your perspective with lies. 

-Fa

Allah.

Longed for him. 

Had Him.
Lost Him.
Repeat.

-Fa

Finding myself.

"Why don't you love me!?" 

He asked in desperate exasperation.

"Because, I cant! Not just yet." A defeated voice continued, 

"Its not up to me, sweetheart,

 don't you see? 

I haven't even found myself."

-Fa

Craving a love.

Craving a love, 

so real,

that it can,

break you down

and fix you up

on, 

So. Many. Levels. 

-Fa

Thoughts.

Artwork by Elliana Esquivel aka Elesq

Everyone is calm.

The air is positive too.

And there's no more screaming. 

Everything is normal. 

Everything. 

Except my thoughts. 

-Fa

Thirst.

She had a thirst in her eyes. 

A lust for success, 

like the aim of a lion and the focus of a 

marksman. 

She was bold and authoritative. 

A talker, imaginative, 

and outspoken of her 

feelings, 

well she was, 

most of the time: except when they talked about him. 

Her friends used to tease her, like all the friends do in the world.

Only if they knew what tornado rises inside of her on the name of his.

Like an avalanche successive of devastation, 

a meteor racing towards the earth:

an unequivocal apocalypse. 

Or like dark magic ruining the ruins,

a spirited ritual longing for peace;

only if they knew. 

For these were empty girls unable to understand 

the severity of her emotion. 

-Fa

Nostalgia.

Thing is: 

my toxic memories are too strong for me to think about past 

as it has/had something romantic in it or maybe

 it is something to be stayed in memories as something worthwhile. 

I mean, I haven't suffered huge loss in my life, when one really hears about it.

 But feelings can do so much damage to your soul.

 And I have been a weak victim to them. 

Maybe I am a pessimist. So, I don't like to think about my past. 

Nostalgia is too bright of a word for me. 

I have never felt nostalgic in a long time about anything.

 -Fa

Secret hopes.

I believe its the secret hopes that keep us alive after all. 

Its like you're drowning - set on fire - falling from the cliff.

How can you breathe,

when all that surrounds is the fright of impending water?

How can you live,

when all that endures is the ache smoldering from the inside out?

How can you be at peace,

when the momentum of earth is fiercely dragging you to its end?

Because you live.

Feel. 
Be at peace. 

Just like that. 
All at once.

With all the crazy things happening. 

How does that happen? 

Secret hopes.

-Fa

Blood. Paper. Pen. (4)

Dearly beloved, 

You see, you might have moved on but I am still there. 
I am still standing under the naked sky. I am still a little nervous to see you. 
I can still hear my heart beating. I am still craving for your luscious voice.
 I am still admiring your ways and eyes and moves
 and hair and clothes and body and voice and you. 
 I am still 13 years old. I am still stupid and emotional 
and crazy and adventurous. But you have moved on as life told us where to move to.
 I haven't. You have obeyed and I have suffered. 
And now I am out of spaces to cut above my ankle. 
And the blood seems to be betraying me. I need you to see. I wish you saw.
I wish you were here. I wish I could touch you and you wanted to touch me.
 But it's my life so who am I kidding? 
My shrink told me not to mention my bloody habit to you anymore.
 He's so stupid because he still can't see what I had seen
 so long before: I don't obey. Not life and certainly not anyone else. 
Anyways. I hope you have nieces and nephews by now. 
Beauty runs in your family. So, take care you. 

Eternally and withering yours, 

Fa


Blood. Paper. Pen. (1)
http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2014/09/blood-paper-pen.html

Blood. Paper. Pen. (2)
http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2015/01/blood-paper-pen-2.html

Blood. Paper. Pen. (3)
http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2015/04/blood-paper-pen-3.html

Patience.

I believe only 'patience' can solve quite lot of the problems itself. Its strange however, how a mere feeling can do so much. Isn't it? 

-Fa

Rust and rot.

I have for you nothing but pity. I swear on the rust and rot living upon your soul, if you have vision, the ability to think, feel and speak - and most of all: freedom, you're missing out on so much. 

Tonight.

Hurts more than it should when I miss you tonight. 

-Fa

Artwork courtesy: Laura Makabresku 

Friendship.

Perhaps, there is no such thing as friendship. There is just kind people and the people who are not kind. The good and the bad. Do you get what I mean?

-Fa

Artwork courtesy: Kinchoi Lam

Recovery.

Sometimes, to get better: you only have to get bad, just a bit, and a little bit more. 

-Fa

Everything.

Everything began with love. Everything still does. 

Everything ended with love. Everything still does. 

-Fa

Artwork by Sanja Stanisic

I like

I like poetry. 

Relationships. 

Words. 

Feelings. 

Valor. 

Extremism. 

Darkness. 

Cold. 

I like risks.

Intimacy. 

I like freedom. 

Curious and lovely.

Your voice is addiction to me. 

You are brilliance and torture. 

Curious and lovely. 

You are "I wish he knew me just for once" dreamy

and dreadfully far. 

You know how that makes me feel? 

-Fa

Everything without you.

You illuminated the darkest of my sides, 

I didn't know existed. 

I was left with nothing,

but all those sides when you left. 

All I am is dark now. 

All I am is everything without you. 

-Fa

Maybe it's a little sad.

The night of the 14th.

Just like the moon of the 14th.

Followed by utter darkness,

a night that sheds brightest of the light.

He was the night of the 14th. 

-Fa

Vividness.

I was unable to understand 

anything besides him. You know?

He was vividness in an intense blur. 

Like I was chained, and only he

 seemed to have the keys.

This was the extent of my

madness for him. 

- Fa

Missing.

The worst part is

 when you miss someone

 so much 

that it makes you realize 

you loved them. 

She loved him. She was sure now. 

And there was nothing that she could 

do about it. 

-Fa

Blood. Paper. Pen. (3)

Dearly beloved,

Do you know what that means? 
"I will always love you."

Its not sugary. Its not a word of unbreakable vows.
 Its not healthy. Its racked. And dark, and honestly, I think its slowly poisoning me.

 Like an addiction, a haunting ghost, and an incurable illness, I am the victim of 
the malady here. I am unable to see clearly, because you are literally everywhere.  I want stop cutting myself. I want to move on. Just, for once pass on from the blight and barrage that has 

dragged me up till this point of convalescence. I want to forgive.

I want to not love you for just a day of my life, but I do. I love you.

Every second of it. Trust me,

 I don't want to. But I will always do. 

I will always love you.

Eternally and witheringly yours,

-Fa


Blood. Paper. Pen. (1)
http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2014/09/blood-paper-pen.html

Blood. Paper. Pen. (2)
http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2015/01/blood-paper-pen-2.html

Blood. Paper. Pen. (4)
http://fajanjua.blogspot.com/2015/08/blood-paper-pen-4.html

Glitter.

She was shimmer,a flask of glitter.

She was blade, a lovely scandal.

                  

                              -Fa

Lightening and the thunder.

Okay. You wanted this. So, listen. When I was a little girl, I was always afraid of the lightening and the thunder. It was him, my brother, who would hold my hand then. He'd tell me that if the ceiling fell on us, he'd lay on my top.This way it will hurt less, he'd say. And we would laugh together. He was great with kids, ever since he was one. He'd stand by me, hold my hand and put his arm on my shoulder and hug me like that. And smile. The smile that still appears before my eyes when I hear the clouds thunder, or the lightening. He practically raised me, you know? Because I remember only him being there when I needed to see a little light. Not once, was he not there. It was beautiful. And then, he died. Not long after we reached our 20s. So, I don't smile anymore. I am not afraid of the lightening. I don't wait for someone to hold me when I am seconds away to just, break down. I know, I won't. I haven't felt loved ever since. I don't expect so either. I don't play with the kids anymore. I don't laugh. Or smile. Or live. See how that works? That's life.

(The other side of Arizona Robbins)

-Fa

The dreams of you.

What I feel for you is an eternal secret. 

Because you will never know what it feels like

 to be tormented by the dreams of you. 

-Fa

You.

You,

You are the delusion of sanity, the naked exquisiteness. 

The randomness of joy, the deadly desire. 

You are a suicide, an endless sanctity. 

You are eternity. 

I.

                      -Fa