园 home digital scribbles about me contact about me. Hello there! I'm Mae , an impressionist human (because I love Impressionism but am not an artist, hence human) whose eardrums may be partially damaged from listening to music excessively. Writing is something I do to ditch my assignments, hence I decided to take this hobby of mine to another level by creating a website just for my poems, or what I like to call them, digital scribbles . I write about anything that comes to mind, putting to good use the four years of studying Literature in secondary school and a whole lot of creativity. If you are reading this, thank you for stopping by! xx

园 home digital scribbles about me contact JPB FTOWWSS SDNS digital scribbles poems, prose, lyrics, word vomit, etc... Just Passing By (poem.) Falling in love with a person whom you thought loved you. For The One Who Writes Sad Songs (poem.) Who hurt you? Simon Does Not Say (poem.) Society is our biggest enemy. poems paper can't handle (poem.) Hating the different sides you discovered about yourself. Sandman (poem.) I wish the waves can bring me home. what if mirrors lie? (poem.) What is real? PPCH S WIML N&AME (poem.) The gift of our name. can't breathe (poem.) An endless cycle. the sunset is beautiful, isn't it? (poem.) Why over the sun's farewell glow? N&AME can't breathe TSIBII Document Promise (poem.) From the perspective of a falling leaf Plastic Love (poem.) Unrealistic expectations of an ideal lover The Opposite Train (poem.) I finally fulfilled my wish of being in the opposite train Promise Plastic Love TOT enough (poem.) He loves me, he loves me not. i want another picture of the sunset (poem.) Why I take pictures of sunsets the girl she'll never see again (poem.) I wondered if she wonders about me as I did about her. enough IWAPOTS TGSNSA Self Portrait (poem.) A poem about self reflection and observation life's countdown (poem.) To disappear, like fireworks When Love Is Gone, Where Does It Go? (poem.) I would rather not. SP where to? (poem.) Taxi rides at midnight overthinking like an overflowing bathtub (poem.) Any longer, and I'll only drown myself night nest (poem.) A poem about my beloved bed shhh... something is brewing ☕️ WT?

< Back Promise We hold on dearly to our roots, knowing what will become of us someday. A beautiful phenomenon, graceful descent, whilst losing everything we’ve ever had.

< Back Self Portrait I think I lost count of the number of self portraits I have. Self portraits deeper than skin-deep, of the reflection inside of me. I paint as I unveil the layers, stripping myself to the core. She looks different, the person I was today. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll be a little more perfect.

园 home digital scribbles about me contact Want to say hello? 📧 fiveodes@gmail.com 🌐 @fiveodes i don't bite, i promise ;)

FIVEODES (n.) a collection, archive, dump of words strung together, by accident, on purpose. FIVEODES ? ¿ i'm sorry i never loved you... i was just passing by no, we don't just got five odes. a compilation of digital scribbles ＊ 。+ · ❀ 。✧

< Back the sunset is beautiful, isn't it? Why is it that when someone tells you, “The sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?”, it means that they love you but they’re letting you go? Why over the sunset, before the sun’s farewell glow? Will it bring to light your plight, or make the future you saw together look like nothing but a bleak silhouette? Just because the sunset was beautiful that day.

< Back Sandman I sit in solitude, my lone silhouette against the horizon. Not a single soul left, it was just the ocean and I, and darkness creeps in slowly as if it knew. I gaze at the shoreline, the very place of reunion between the waves and the sand. The place I long to be, since forever. But, I was forced, boxed, stacked and built upon, with my body standing tall and firm, against my will. I wish the waves could engulf me whole, and bring me home.

< Back poems paper can't handle left, right, left, right. the mirror presents a girl you only know from the outside. she stares back at you, familiarity fighting the seconds. who is she? who are you? her eyebrows furrowed, reflecting your frustration. that is you. lub, dub, lub, dub. your heavy heart weeps through the night, killing your sleep. secrets you hide tear apart the self you know, once again. your smiles in vain. up, down, up, down. you draw a line with your two feet repeatedly. the line to cancel your insanity. what have you become? you who hate yourself so strongly, from the inside.

< Back When Love Is Gone, Where Does It Go? When love is gone, where does it go? The cracked path we walked by all the time, or the white sheets of yours I knew made someone else feel special. Maybe the tears I cried those nights you walked out, or the photos I took of us, wishing you were somebody else. If I could find and retrieve the love that left us, one by one, perhaps, I would rather not.

< Back Plastic Love Pristine as we’ve ever been, love, a feeling we rarely come by. Only puddles of what-ifs we sit and gaze upon, never jump in. Yet, we build our walls higher each day, growing dissatisfied with what’s past it. It’s our own little world now, where we await a plastic love. But plastic means perfect, and no love is plastic.

< Back Just Passing By Going in circles, a destination unclear. You traced my footsteps. Is it here? In search of an answer, your secret was born. Special, you felt, overflowing warmth. Though, unknown were you to me. A fleeting memory. One in a billion, but not the one I yearn. Maybe that time I looked in, blind to the sparks you saw fly. I'm sorry, I never loved you. I was just passing by.