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Photography, poetry, and musings by Emily Ung.

Posts in Poetry
#15 – Tormented.

Nikon F90 | Kodak Portra 400

Sometimes when I’m reading, I come across certain words or sentences, lines or paragraphs or stanzas that particularly move me. I often find myself in those moments where I really feel what an author or poet is trying to convey, and the emotion his or her words embody. It’s these magical moments that strike me as so sublime and uncanny – that a total stranger can put into words the thoughts I am unable to articulate. It’s an amazing way of affirming that your personal experiences and emotions aren’t all that taboo, and that you really aren’t alone (cliché as that may be). And that, to me, is so special – especially if said printed words on paper can move me to tears.

It’s not often that my own writing has that effect on me – because the process of composing requires time and thought, and already taps into my emotional chambers. However, with that said, this poem just doesn’t stop making my face wrinkle and my throat tighten. As with all my writing and poetry, I have to read it aloud because rhyme and rhythm are elements that I deem as essential. I imagine if I were to perform this piece, I would gradually pick up pace as I speak;

 

Tormented

I remember the first time

I caught a glimpse of you from the corner of my eye.

I was feeling nervous, and so scared,

But in my mind I thought to myself,

“Hey, he’s cute.”

 

Right there was where I stood,

Like a statue, but right at you –

On the opposite side of the counter.

I wish I wasn’t there, but I was relieved at the same time.

 

Right there was where we ate;

In those seats was where we sat,

Where we watched and where we laughed and

Where we leaned.

 

Right there was where we walked,

Where we sat down and where we talked –

That was where I couldn’t stop myself from falling;

Over and over.

 

Right there was where we hooked arms,

Where we held hands and where we were calm;

Where we shared everything,

Including our food.

 

Right there was where we took that photo,

Where we never wanted to let go.

Where we celebrated and where we made plans together

For the future.

 

Right there was where we lied under the stars –

Where we drank and where you parked your car.

Where I was convinced by your crocodile tears, those that

I couldn’t bear.

 

Right there was where I felt safe –

Where I was myself, and where I didn’t have to put on a fake face.

Where I took risks knowing that I

Would be ok.

 

Right there was where I was scared –

Where I feared for my life and where I cried tears.

Where I sat at a window seat and swallowed my sobs as I

Held onto faith.

 

Right there was where I was delusional –

Where I saw all sorts of illusions and where I was in denial.

Where I thought to myself, “Maybe

I still have a chance.”

 

Right there was where I slowed down –

Where I tried to hide and where I fell to the ground.

Where I felt my lungs deflate, and thought,

“Is this fate?”

 

Right there was where I stood out from the crowd –

Where I was on my knees and where I cried my eyes out.

Where I was sprawled between an illuminated orange road sign and

A glass wall.

 

Right there was where I wished we had never met – ever.

Where I hoped to wake up with amnesia,

Where I tired to eradicate those memories that made me,

Thinking, “if only.”

 

Right here is where I feel myself disintegrate –

Where my thoughts consume me and drive me crazy.

Where my optimism is beyond me, and I wonder,

“Is this ‘me’?”

 

Right now, you could still find me

On the street or in your memory –

Where we whispered secrets, and where there

Was no animosity.

 

Right now, I could be anywhere – I am somewhere

At the beginning, the middle, or the end;

Where I cannot recognise my surroundings, and I wish I wasn’t here,

But at the same time I am relieved (not really).

 

I thought I would be ok

But my stomach knots and churns and

I genuinely feel sick – because this

Is where it hurts the most.

 

With love,

Emily.

#13 – Post-Trauma Thoughts (post)

Nikon F90 | Fujifilm Superia 400

Post-Trauma Thoughts

I saw you tonight and I trembled

In my shoes.

My body stayed shaken for well over

Twenty minutes, and I

Couldn’t stop myself. Even when

I walked down and said, “Thank you”

On my way out.

 

Had I saw you earlier – saw you in that

Tired state – I probably would have said,

“Look up,

Come to me. I’ll give you my seat

So that you can sleep.”

I would have let you rest your head instead

Of my fatigued figure –

Tired from the tears I have teared

For you, and the cries I have cried that have mourned

For me.

 

And while it has soaked up all the courage I can muster

To do everything I have done – things I once swore never

To do to anyone – and if I ever make out another,

“Thank you”

With my lips, I am thankful for the supernatural being

That has possessed me to love you like this; convinced

That I have dug myself into a dark abyss, and the rope

You fed me lacks the integrity

To carry the weight of your lies that burdens me.

 

In the depths of a self-perpetuating salty sea,

I am an anchor

Heavy enough to keep myself submerged, yet

Too small to steady the ship she’s

Tied to.

Am I the girl you once met, but (you)

Never (knew?)

(You) loved?

 

 

With love,

Emily.

#12 – Stop me.

Stop me

How do I stop spinning –

Stop the cycle of thoughts so consuming?

When my memories are a constant reminder of betrayal –

I wonder, are they worth remembering?

When each crevice and corner is a mirror –

A glaring reflection of my incompetencies.

Without word or warning,

You set my destruction into motion.

 

 

With love,

Emily.

#11 – Remind me.

Photo by Silvia Liu

Remind me

Sweep me off my feet –

Remind me how much I like to stand on firm ground.

 

Make my heart skip all its beats –

Remind me how much I like to hear it pound.

 

Twirl me; spin me off my seat –

Remind me how much I like to sit in your surrounds.

 

Drown me in your love knee-deep –

Remind me how much I like to breathe the soft sound;

The faint whisper of, “let’s go for another round”.

 

With love,

Emily.

#10 – Love, Like This.

Nikon F90 | Fujifilm Superia 400

Love, Like This

You could but I couldn’t –

And that’s when it all started

To unfold.

 

We thought we would –

Elaborate ambitions

Of a far away land,

Of dates you planned.

 

I imagined we could

Live out these dreams

Each with our best friend.

 

A toasty burrito

In your embrace,

A muffin,

And a marshmallow face.

 

But then you quit and I couldn’t

Feel any less

Or comprehend reason.

 

I did but you didn’t

Have the willpower

To ignite a flame

Or come alive again.

 

You left – and left me lingering

In the past

You said

You would care no less.

 

I do but I don’t

Love you

And hate you the same.

 

I will but I won’t

Wish you were mine again.

 

I may very well never know what ‘love’ is – what is means or what it constitutes. Like many other things, ‘love’ is one I will never fully understand, but will still try my best to feel my way through.

‘Love’ has always been a concept that perplexes me – obviously something I’ve analysed and considered countless times. It’s ironic because ‘love’ always surrounds us in its many forms, but we don’t realise it a lot of the time. It’s funny because you can’t exactly define ‘love’, and there exists a myriad of interpretations and cultural perceptions. But, although it can be a beautiful thing, of all ambiguous and pretentious institutions, the most controversial one might just be ‘Love’. You really never know – how do you? Can you?

The relationship between ‘love’ and family greatly intrigues me. It’s a given that you ‘love’ your family, right? You were born into this world, cared for by your parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and anyone who picked you up into their arms. You couldn’t speak or understand most things, but you had eyes to see and a heart so you could feel – you probably didn’t even know who these strange people were, or what ‘family’ meant. But, when you were old enough to recognise ‘love’, they were the first people you said you ‘loved’ – regardless of how they looked, how they talked a little too much, how they chewed too loudly, how they would always mispronounce words, or how all these things would annoy you – you would still ‘love’ them unconditionally. You might live across seas or continents from your family, or may have never met them before, but love them you would – because they’re family. You might have new cousins you have never met, but you love them already. You might have distant relatives whom you’ve never seen before, or didn’t even know existed, but you love them. Maybe this is what noble love is?

I wonder why this kind of ‘love’ can’t be omnipresent – if we are all capable of that form of ‘love’, why can’t it transcend all borders? Why do we discriminate? Why do we judge? Why can’t we embrace and overlook flaws? Why can’t we love without barriers? Why don’t we try?

Although, what I know about ‘love’ has now made me a part-time skeptic – and coming from an optimist and someone who’s always able to find silver lining – that’s kind of depressing.

 

“I don’t know if what we had was love, but if it wasn’t, I hope never to fall in love. Because of you, I know I am too fragile to bear it.”

- An excerpt from ‘For you’ by Lang Leav

 

I’ve constantly been bombarded by the truth that love is a choice. Whether or not you believe in fate or soul mates, there really is no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ – what there is though, is a choice to ‘love’ another for who they are; a choice to make a mutual effort to maintain a relationship (be it friendship, romantic relationships or familial bonds); a choice to fight for something you believe worth keeping – and that belief, or otherwise, is perpetuated by a sprouting thought; a belief you must hold on tight to with utmost willpower.

Someone once told me that, “Nothing in this world that’s worth having comes easy” (it was a quote from Scrubs). I’ve always remembered this ever since, simply because it emphasises an existential fact – that giving up or making excuses, or taking the easy way out will cause you to lose the people or things that were/are/could be valuable or important to you.

I’m also aware and invested in the idea that a person should love him- or herself first before they can commit to loving others – to be comfortable being alone (not lonely) and independent; to have the ability to find intrinsic happiness that stems from within. Your happiness shouldn’t be dependent on someone else. Like ‘love’, I believe happiness is also a choice. It’s your choice to be happy, by making decisions and having a mindset that will beget happy thoughts and therefore ideas. A very wise fortune cookie once told me,

 

“Your happiness is intertwined with your outlook on life.”

 

And of course this process was never meant to be easy or happen in an instant – you always hear people mention ‘the pursuit of happiness’ – but that doesn’t deter them from their so-called search. It seems like happiness and love have become the ultimate goals in life; the purpose in which we live for (in some cases people aim to be rich and famous which probably brings them happiness, so I guess that’s the same).

 

Choice

If I were to choose one thing never to lose again,

Above anything else,

I would choose myself.

(Then choose you – who knows)

 

I guess what I’m trying to put forward is this: Love (and happiness) can be simple, but not easy – much like how you can set out certain steps in achieving something, but it doesn’t mean these steps will be easy to accomplish. Or, like how you know where you want to be, but you don’t know how to get there.

There’s a certain saying that I have come to believe in:

 

“Let Live, Let Love.”

 

I’m not sure if I heard this from somewhere or someone, or conjured it up on my own because of my tendency to alliterate – but either way it has stuck with me (you may remember I ended off my first post with this quote). Initially, I liked it because it was catchy. It wasn’t until sometime last year that I realised what it really meant to me: that I should let life be, and simply let love be. I was reminded to let nature take it’s course, to let life unfold, and to let things be. It cemented the idea that some things can’t be forced, and that I should stop trying too hard (because let’s be honest – I always try too hard). Life, love, and happiness – they shouldn’t have to be too complicated, but that’s not saying you can avoid trying or making a conscious effort all together.

 

“The course of true love never did run smooth.”

- William Shakespeare, ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’

 

With love also comes loss in one of its various forms – it could be gradually drifting apart, a sudden halt, or the eventual “till death do us part”. Loss never is pleasant or easy, but acceptance comes eventually and there is always hope. Another wise fortune cookie has also told me that,

 

“What appeared to be a loss will turn out in your favour.”

 

You must be thinking, “Did she really get these fortunes from cookies?”

To that I say, “Yes. Yes I did.”

I still have these fortunes on paper as proof – it really did happen. Twice. I know, pretty amazing. 

I’ve recently been introduced to the wonderful world of spoken word poetry, and this poem in particular really touched me with its resounding relevance. If you’re like me and get hooked onto wanting to watch more, make sure you check out more of Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye’s work, as well as Harry Baker (he’s got a mathematics degree, writes poetry, and he’s so funny)! Or, if you had to pick just one to watch, you need to watch this one.

Finally, I hope my scattered thoughts are somewhat comprehensible and this post wasn’t too much of a torture to read. Thank you for appreciating my thoughts and opinions for what they are – it’s totally subjective and is in no way factual or should it be taken as a generalisation of what other people think.

Thank you for stopping by xx

L’amour, ça fait faire de grandes choses

 

With love,

Emily.