Day 1

Write Hard and Clear

about what Hurts.

A void. An emptiness. Perhaps it’s because I am a 21st century child that I look to my phone for reiteration of your absence and, upon seeing a lack of conversation the sinking feeling drowns me.

You are hell, purgatory and paradise.

Yet you are none.

You are all around me

Yet you are not here.

Confusion. Sadness. I’m drained and wounded, but this is a wound that will not gush blood.


Yours sorrowfully,




Be Good, Always Pt. 2

My downfall, my muse,

The architect of my happiness, the singer of my blues.

We’re both holding hearts,

Even though your hellos sound like false starts.

On the chessboard I’m chasing only you, the queen.

You’re a puzzle draining all my logic,

A juxtaposition within a straightforward scene

With you, it’s a magical mystery ride

I’d support your argument even if i’m on the other side

because losing to your smile is worth being washed away by the tide

On the court, i’ll fail just to avoid you making unforced errors

I’ll risk it all to have you even though it’s hard

because the way I need you is a loneliness I cannot bear

I miss our little talks; be good, always.

Fires rage inside him, burning down forests and engulfing homes.
Tepid waters of a tropical island caress his ankles.

He hears wolves racing through snowstorms, ferocious and rabid.
Palm trees nudge one another gently as a breeze strokes the nape of his neck.

Whirlpools contort ships into the trenches of the sea, swallowing them whole in his mind.
Snowflakes delicately seat themselves on his fingertips before kissing them goodbye.

Blood sprints through his arteries with the rapidity of a typhoon.
Rattled yet assuaged, he cannot make sense of it. He cannot find the words.

His pen settles on an ellipsis.

A conversation

D: When did it go wrong?

M: about the time she admitted to having drunkenly slept with someone else.

D: But you two weren’t together… So why did it bother you?

M: Picture this, someone tells you they miss you and that if only you knew how strongly they felt about you, you’d feel secure about them going out t a club. This is after you’re aware of how they can’t handle their drink or attention from men. This person tells you that nothing will happen but your conversation ends on a sour note. Then they don’t talk to you for a whole day, and that night they go and screw someone else.

The next day, they show you an excessive amount of affection and go to your closest friend to try and figure you out. While trying to show their affection they tell you how someone tried to kiss them but they stopped said person because they could only feel you in the club. Later, in a moment of anger they tell you what they did and that they hope it hurt you.

Would that bother you?

D: I see…

M: No, I don’t think you do. You see my anger, it’s quite evident. You can hear my disgust. But you can’t see the images that my mind conjures. You can’t see the pangs of pain I’m experiencing every second because not only is this just a terrible incident coupled with the ruthless delivery, but it’s similar to something that was done to me in the past.

D: So, is it the fact that it happened to you in the past, and you managed to let it happen again that angers you the most?

M: no, I’m a masochist. I enjoy being emotionally wrecked. What do you think?

D: Well, if I may… (M nods) Thank you, I think you’re angry because you think you opened up to both these people and they let you down. It’s clear from your rational analysis of how you explained things to me, you’re very aware of your emotions and you like to be in control of them. This being clear to me without any professional reasoning. Therefore, other people who, let’s say, you are intimate with will be able to pick up on it too and therefore, they won’t ever be sure whether you’re being genuine or contrived with them.

M: people need to stop being so dimwitted then.

D: No, you need to stop wearing different masks to different people. These masks are merging and soon, no one will know what your real face is. You run the risk of not knowing yourself.

M: You still haven’t concluded as to whether I’m write or wrong.

D: It’s not about you being right or wrong. You were hurt, quite deeply, by this event and it reopened a wound from your past. You need to just acknowledge it and stop trying to deal with it. It will consume you only if you keep thinking of it.

M: Oh cause it’s so easy to not.

D: Of course not, don’t block the memory, but don’t over-think it every single time. It happened, nothing will change that. But you can choose to stagnate, or you can choose to move on and life your life.

M: you’ve been of no help.

D: I never really am.

M: This whole thing has been utterly pointless. I’m still angry, upset and disgusted. Whatever.


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I cannot have you.

I cannot have you.
Yet, I long for you.
I’m the kind of person who would miss an appointment with work or friends to meet you for coffee. I’d run across town to sit with you on the grass for ten minutes. I’d cycle to you at 3-am in the morning if you were unable to sleep. I’d have an extra dinner just to make sure you eat, even though my insides are ready to mutiny against me. Before you could finish asking, my answer would be ‘yes,’ because I don’t want you to waste energy completing sentences.  I would let my passion for you set my ego and pride on fire just so that the ensuing warmth or fireworks would brighten up your day. I have brought worlds crashing down and constructed new worlds where we could be together.
You are my reverie, I dream you.
For me, imagination and desire are one and the same.
I cannot have you.

Predictable Girl

It’s you,
The predictable girl. Predictable because your mind is sharper than a sword, your words are softer than silk, your love is deeper than the ocean, your kiss is an intoxicant.
Predictable because your smile is brighter than day, your heart is more accommodating than the night.
You are predictable because you’re truer than the truth yet misinterpreted as a cliché.

Regardless of who you are to them,
To me you are predictable because I know you’ll always be the object of my desire, the subject of my discussion, the taste on my tongue, the name on my lips, the lingering touch on my finger tips.

Simply put, you are most predictable because I can always expect the unexpected. Just when I think you cannot amaze me further, you dazzle me with your indefatigable spirit.

You are predictable in the most cynical sense because you are an enigma,
Indecipherable to most, yet when the code is broken, you are the most loveable person.

Have I broken the code?

Confession from a man

We do it without realizing,
We just don’t have a clue.
Reading between the lines is
Something we just cannot do.
When there’s an argument,
We always think we’re right.
No matter what you say or do
We take no responsibility for the fight.
We blame it on our hormones
And never take the rap.
But when we call you moody bitches
We end up getting slapped.