"All this time I've always thought that people are poison; that I should stay away from them so that I won't be affected. So that I would be safe. Turns out it is me. It's all on my head. I have a poison I cannot cure inside of me," she whispers. It is past midnight and yet, she's nowhere near sleepy and she puts all the blame on her 3 cups of black coffee that she drank earlier. Or maybe it's just her heart who's awake after so many years of not feeling anything. It is a surprise for herself to know that it is still capable of beating furiously and out of rhyme.
"The poison. It's different. It's not a poison that hurts physically. It's not in my vein or my blood. It's in my brain and my heart, too. It must be poison who makes me into this heartless and bitter person who doesn't really give a damn about her surrounding. It must be poison and it's spreading and I can't help it that I hurt people around me. It's more dangerous that the poison you'd get from snake. It kills me slowly. I don't know when I got it. Maybe it was when dad left. Or maybe it was when I heard mom crying at nights. Or perhaps it's you, too. Yes. You. And all I know is that it's growing within me and I wish I could get them all sucked out of me just like the way doctors cure someone who gets poisoned. I wish someone would cure me,"
"And I'd thought you'd stay long enough because I really did think of you as my antidote when everything gets too much."
For once, she doesn't hold back the river that runs on her cheek. Oh how she wishes everything would stop; that the world would just stop moving and someone would suddenly appear out of nowhere and yell "YOU JUST GOT PUNK'D! IT'S ALL A JOKE! SAY CHEESE TO THE CAMERA OVER THERE!".
Too bad everything is too real. The world would not stop and the person burried 6 feet under the ground in front of her will not come back to cure her. She thought that no matter how harsh the world might get, she'd always have her brother to run to. She thought she doesn't need anyone. No friends. No clubs. No teams. Just a brother. Her cure to her poisonous self. But no. His death only added more poison to her and all she needs is one more pinch of lonely poison to get her rotten.
Well, at least now she knows why the Greeks use one same word to address both poison and medicine. Pharmakon.
"The poison. It's different. It's not a poison that hurts physically. It's not in my vein or my blood. It's in my brain and my heart, too. It must be poison who makes me into this heartless and bitter person who doesn't really give a damn about her surrounding. It must be poison and it's spreading and I can't help it that I hurt people around me. It's more dangerous that the poison you'd get from snake. It kills me slowly. I don't know when I got it. Maybe it was when dad left. Or maybe it was when I heard mom crying at nights. Or perhaps it's you, too. Yes. You. And all I know is that it's growing within me and I wish I could get them all sucked out of me just like the way doctors cure someone who gets poisoned. I wish someone would cure me,"
"And I'd thought you'd stay long enough because I really did think of you as my antidote when everything gets too much."
For once, she doesn't hold back the river that runs on her cheek. Oh how she wishes everything would stop; that the world would just stop moving and someone would suddenly appear out of nowhere and yell "YOU JUST GOT PUNK'D! IT'S ALL A JOKE! SAY CHEESE TO THE CAMERA OVER THERE!".
Too bad everything is too real. The world would not stop and the person burried 6 feet under the ground in front of her will not come back to cure her. She thought that no matter how harsh the world might get, she'd always have her brother to run to. She thought she doesn't need anyone. No friends. No clubs. No teams. Just a brother. Her cure to her poisonous self. But no. His death only added more poison to her and all she needs is one more pinch of lonely poison to get her rotten.
Well, at least now she knows why the Greeks use one same word to address both poison and medicine. Pharmakon.
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