White, Green Season

My Dear

she and i are artists. we may never feel the same page of paper or draw the same stroke, but we are two halves bound together.

i do not know her name. i only know the name she wishes to be called and i am fine with it so.

"i've decided to romanticise hands. i refuse to feel such disgust, allowing my world to rot."

she had shown me one of her enlightening drawings. her work never ceased to amaze me.

her words flowed like a river, forming into an edible desire i craved. the way she spoke lured me in. her thoughts, desires, morals i wanted to hear them all. they were a sustainable fuel.

"very beautifully said."

my voice said aloud as her eyes bore into mine. the way her eyes looked into mine was intangible; every fiber of my being was being strangled to its end.

her angelic voice was music to my ears. it was like a heavenly rainfall after a year long drought. something one yearns to hear.

"you're very beautifully born."

as she spoke i felt my body stiffen. i still couldn't understand what she saw within me. she was a dear. she was a splendid gut wrenching feeling. she was the reason i could smile, my reason i still have feeling at the tips of my fingers.

i never understood what she saw in me. she was too considerate, too loving, i soaked all of it in like a sponge. she was... is a darling friend. the kindling that starts the fire.

~ m.n.

i hate how i can write drabbles and small tidbits for days, but once it comes to actually writing a full-fledged chapter for a fic it feels forced n ends up sounding like a sad song on a forgotten instrument.

~ m.n.

Unworthy

i always feel as though my feelings are invalid because "someone has it worse." such words made be become reserved rather than outspoken. how does one critique and determine the worth of another's experiences? everyone's experiences are different, thus making us human.

yet... i am unable to sob at a minor inconvenience because simply there is no worth behind my emotions. being unable to express true raw emotions keeps me chained within the box of expectations that i cannot withstand.

why must parents always challenge what we go through what they went through? all experiences have their own worth, but when mine is put up against theirs.. suddenly mine becomes unworthy of such emotions.

"i'll give you something to cry about."

"why are you crying? back in my day..."

is there anything else im forgetting?

~ m.n.

Loved

i want you, i need you. infact, i can't live without you. i crave your touch that i never got to experience. i want your lips on mine, a comforting notation to our love.

until

everything turned from present to past.

i wanted you, i needed you. infact, i couldn't live without you. i craved your touch that i never got to experience. i wanted your lips on mine, a comforting notation to our love.

you didn't love me, you kept up the act well though. in the end you didn't try hard to keep me, in fact i believe you wanted to get rid of me as soon as you realized how boring i was. as in boring i mean, pushing you to be better, pushing you to reach out, allowing you to cry and having me listen to your weeps.

i think you loved me, but not enough.

~ m.n.

Anger

i always wondered what i deserved to feel the wrath or plague of an angry person; for worse, an angry parent. to see a parent spout indecencies when a minor inconvenience happens just makes me glad of the patience i harbor. the constant

"why does everything bad happen to me?"

makes me sit in silence as the world around me spins and yells.

i have more to say, but not the words to explain it.

~ m.n.

Birthday

it's my birthday, but i feel no older. i always have had the privilege to have a party with love filled to the brim every year. albeit, i remember feeling unexcited for the one day written towards me. my one special day and yet i felt empty. why is that so? as i grow older i realize how foolish i was to wish to grow older quickly. i thought being older would mean that i have more control over my life, yet i feel that's still untrue.

i never took anything for granite. i opened every card slowly just only hoping for the handwritten "we love you, happy birthday." if there was anything extra i appreciated everything so much. i took every present i received and kept it, it'll remain by my side until the day i die.

~ m.n.

What Would They Do?

i tend to wonder what people would do once im gone.

would they cry?

would they be angry?

would they feel no remorse?

would they feel absolutely nothing?

i cannot say, but i hope they don't cry. if they were to shed a tear i, myself, would hurt despite not being here. i would hope they mourn me, but in their own ways like humans do.

on another note, i often hoped something bad would happen to me just so that i could feel some sort of attention. i have much of it, yet at the same time i feel like im invisible.

~ m.n.

Rejected

opened letter,

my name printed on the soft white envelope,

someone already knew of my failure before i was even to lay my eyes upon the words,

my delicate fingers grasp the letter that disapprove of all of what i had done,

i hadn't been enough. the letter crinkles as my eyes glaze over,

who will take me seriously now?

~ m.n.

Porcelain

i often stare at the work of others wondering whether or not my products will ever be as good. will my wobbly, thin walls of my pottery ever be as perfect and smooth as the girl's who's is showcased with blinding lights? will my art ever look and feel the way i had always hoped? will myself ever be the way i dreamed it'd be? i know people always crave what they don't have most, yet i crave for everything i already do. despite having talent i still believe i'll never be good enough because i, myself, know it is not talent. people worship for things they could only dream for, lacking any sense of what one went through to get to where they're at. i, myself, don't disregard such hardships, rather i envy them. i stare at myself within the reflection and believe i have done nothing of worth. everything i have, i do not have because i am simply never good enough.

~ m.n.

i have an ao3 account !

i will be posting fics irregularly and whenever I have time ! i will, however, create fics in fandoms that I am in. that being said I have a joongdok (joonghyuk x dokja) fic in the making ! 💗

hope to see you soon

~ m.n.