You started to feel like a fever dream—
the chills, the sweat didn’t leave me.
I tried to revive us.

We did walk to school holding hands,
our long braids filled with
stories of our worlds.

I could not face you.
The equal footing disappeared
once the pretty boy liked you over me.
It grew into the ocean
when another boy became your world.

I tried to let go,
be graceful,
be accepting—
but the poison crept in.
The ivy grew all over me, and I let it.
This felt good and real.

Time washed us by—
days into years.
We aren’t the same anymore.

You are losing hair.
I am losing sleep.
Thanks for waving the white flag.

We can win again!

My legs are nailed to the ground.
The blood gushes out—
but it doesn’t hurt as much.

I watch you all do great things,
buy pretty silks,
while I sit here and marinate.

Guilt, laziness, and loneliness
coat me well.
Every crevice of my being
feels heavy and aimless.

I'll laugh at it all,
give advice to my babies,
criticize those working hard
while I spend the day staring.

Pause is now my friend.

I need to move.
I need to run.
I need to fall.
I need to change.

I have played this game before.
My accolades adorn the walls.
This pull-push dance is tiring.

This time,
when I see myself
being pulled into the whirlpool—
I let it.

Drown me, baby.
Show me how love works.

I’ll wait for the little things:
the stolen glances,
the awkward silence.

I hope you are the other end,
your arms stretched out.
I want to run to you
and tell our daughter:

This is what love is.

I will tell her—
someday, a man will come.
And when you set out
to write about sorrow,
you will smile,
thinking of his warmth.

I saw you today.
Your shoulders filled the frame.
Your eyes looked like pools of hope.
I looked away every three seconds,
pinched myself—
Is this real?

I spoke to you yesterday.
We laughed.
Intimacy is scary.
The faceless souls on the internet
make me feel safe.

They don’t know how I look,
how my hair flies everywhere.
It’s easier, you see.
They’ll never see my thighs,
or squirm at my nose.
But you—
you will see it all.

You are the sun,
and I am the moon.
I’m scared of the eclipse.
When everyone photographs it,
I stay hidden under covers.

How can I tell you?
How can I tell you
about the dreams and demons?
You are so bright—
I’m scared I won’t help the shine.

I don’t know who I am without Woe.
She’s been my other half—
The sincere and attentive arm.
Her body feels familiar to lay with:
The curves of her back,
The curly black hair—
They feel like home now.

It’s hard now to smile.
When I do—it’s scary.
I prepare for the earth to swallow me whole.
She flows through me,
Delicate, quiet, and lethal.
The sunflowers look the other way,
And mountains become stones.

I don’t know who I am without Woe.

My parents didn’t raise me like this.
The boy who kissed me didn’t know.
I’m married to her now—
She is my one true love.

My baby, I am scared to watch you try
And fail.
Maybe I will **** her tonight,
Or poison her each time you talk to me.
She’ll die a little with your songs.
She’ll die a little with my walks.
She has to die either way.

What I fear the most
Is being not enough for the world.
I tell myself every day:
You are trying. It’s not easy.
Be kind—it’s the mindset.

Alas, I fail.

I didn’t care for my mother.
I don’t understand my father.
I idolize my brother
And refuse to fall for a stranger.

Where will I go now?
Maybe to the mountains.
The fear creeps in again:
The mountains are too big, and I am too small.

I’ll try again.

I’ll go to the sea.
The salt will be enough.
I might catch this wave—no, that wave.
My fingers slip through it all.

I will hold your hand, maybe,
While you show me what’s yours.
I think I’m scared of being the dark,
The same dark you are afraid of.

Darling. Babe. I might call you these names.
I fear I won’t be enough for you.
I hope you’ll help.
I hope you’ll wait.

I hope you’ll have time.

Breathe in and out.
He will be different—
Better than the rest.
Give it a chance.
Don’t decide for him.

Breathe in and out.
Smile when he calls you pretty.
Blush at his antics.
Shiver while holding the phone.
Let the words flow through.

Breathe in and out.
Baby girl, this is by design.
Leave the pain behind.
Imagine holding his hand.
Bask in his warmth.

Breathe in and out.
Your friend is right:
Life will get better.
Focus on you now.
Learn a dish or two.

Breathe in and out.
Breathe in and out.
Breathe in and out.

I didn’t forget you, baby—
I’ve just been a little absent.
You see... it’s a boy.

He says sweet things,
Likes my smile,
Says my voice is heaven,
Notices my earrings.

I didn’t forget you, baby—
It’s just that I don’t want to cry.
You’ve held my pain,
Every word etched with blood.

His family seems nice,
The kind from the movies.
He wants to ride a horse.
He makes me blush.

I didn’t forget you, baby—
You seem far away.
I can’t run this fast.
We’ll meet again...
Maybe tomorrow.

I do this weird thing.
It’s uncomfortable.
My body doesn’t feel like it’s mine,
And my mind shoots blanks.

It happens when I put the men first.

I asked my friend about it —
She’s his wife now.
Makes him his protein shake
And begs him to do the dishes.
She says, “It’s not weird.”

I asked my mother,
While she packed a lunchbox,
Sweat down her back,
Her hair thinning.
She says she’s comfortable.

I asked my little sister —
She’s finally tall enough for the roller coaster.
She sent a Snapchat and waited.
She sent another one.
This time her blouse came down.
She says she loves her body.

Finally,
I looked in the mirror —
The same kind Sylvia Plath had.
I saw a worried girl.
Scared of liking him more than she should.
Imagining a ring on her hand.
Praying
That he doesn’t hurt her.

Pen touches paper
All I write is still your name
My heart stays the same

I shivered, while you sat still—
across the room, laughing,
asking about my day,
buying me flowers.
My eyes would search,
x-ray through clouds,
to find you—
tall and smiling.

I shivered, while you sat still,
as the AC blasted,
lectures of the gods lingered.
I know you felt it too
when I walked away.
Lucky us—
distance bought fondness.

I shivered, while you sat still,
talking about our lives,
holding me through the night,
smiling at the sky,
watching the fireworks die.
It’s okay.
It might work out again.
The eleventh time is the charm.

I shivered, while you sat still,
next to your wife,
smiling—
and I finally froze.

All my life,
you said what you said.
I did what you said.

I wore full-sleeved clothes.
I stayed quiet.
My cries went into vacuum—
swallowed, silent.

But you always stood strong.
It’s the colour of skin.
The hair you couldn’t tame.
The nose that wasn’t yours.

I always just...
heard what you said
until my ears bled out.

You remind me of the mountains—
the ones I grew up with:
tall, oddly shaped, and proud.
It’s shocking
that my tears made you crumble,
like a lost girl at sea.

Glad to see,
the past haunts you
like it does me.

It was the books,
The same ones I read,
Over the summers,
In the libraries
That told me it was okay to wish.
So I wished,
For a **** body,
Like the ones on the posters.
I did not get that,
So I moved on.

It was probably TV,
The shows with eternal love,
Chemistry that was across lifetimes,
Romance and slow dances.
So I wished again,
For a tall funny man,
He will be my mirror I thought,
That shattered too

Why wish at all?
It is a futile thought
Like the sky you’ll never reach.

It’s all Choreography, you see,
How I know just what to say,
How I smile at your life,
My enthusiasm about your new boo.
Don’t worry,
Don’t worry,
Don’t worry your perfect little head,
About my loss,
About my body,
About my hair.

It’s all Choreography, you see,
I’ll probably tell you about the one good day,
Some award I won for being nice,
And spew some pseudo-intelligent *******
But I know
Oh, I know
I know all too well you’ll see through me

It’s all Choreography, you see,
I’ve been training since I was five,
It’s meticulously planned
And executed flawlessly as
Warm hugs, laughs, kind eyes and sweet, sweet words.

It’s all Choreography, I know
I’d rather do this,
Because,
I dance alone anyway!

I love all of you girls,
I watched you all fall in love
Met your partners
Cheered at your weddings.

I love all of you girls,
The fancy jobs you have
The places you go to
Smiled at the pictures.

I love all of you girls,
As I sit here
Alone at café
Thinking about the time when
It was easier, simpler and just us

I love all of you girls,
I hold your pain with dignity
Life seems silly when you are around
I guess, I missed out
You all caught the train
When I walked along.

I have forgotten what my mind was like
before I met you.
You are the first thought—
and the last.
Who was I before?
Did I write?
Did I laugh?
Maybe.
Maybe my life was simpler—
a quiet loop,
a routine with a predictable rhythm.
Maybe I woke up sad.
I can’t remember anymore.
I looked for her—
the girl I was—
in the books I swore I loved more than you.
In the moon,
but it never looks the same now.
Not since you.
Your words haunt me.
They live in the corners of things.
They ruin songs.
They ruin sleep.
But it’s okay.
I let them.
I look for you in other bodies.
I tell the same jokes.
Nobody laughs the way you did.
I get new answers I didn’t ask for.
It’s silly.
Stupid.
Obsessive, even.
I spent more time missing you
than holding you.

She tied her hair up,
Set out on a journey,
To write something ugly.
It has to be not quite right
A little loopy,
Like looking at the mirror
It has to make people squirm,
Also make them hungry,
It has to be ugly.
It can't have deep meaning!
Maybe it can be about the boy,
The same one who couldn’t spell.
It shouldn’t rhyme!
It shouldn’t make sense really!
It has to be something ugly.
The gods spoke to her,
They said, ugly is good
Relatable, lost in the crowd
But seen by a few.
Those few beady eyes mean nothing,
For a girl who can't see through the mirror
It has to be ugly.
Like the time her mother told her so
Remind people of overflowing bins
The abstract art that she pretended to like
The cesspool of love that she floats in
Try harder now,
This isn’t hitting the spot
It has to be ugly.

You are still alive in me
The way your eyes would find me in the crowd,
How you would smile looking at me,
I was the prize.
You are still alive in me
The short walks, the long walks,
The sunsets, the fireworks,
I was the luckiest.
You are still alive in me
Your hands always trying to reach mine,
Every time the coffee slipped off mine,
I was the silliest.
You are still alive in me
In the long shadows,
In the dialogues of that action movie,
I was dramatic.
You are still alive in me
I’ll imagine her hands,
I’ll imagine her face,
I’ll imagine her smile,
I am defeated.

I see in your eyes,
Two shallow pools of white with coffee mixed in,
I tremble before them,
You judge me too hard.
I hear it in your words,
The desperation reeks,
Its care you say,
I don’t feel it anyway.
I see the way you are,
Insincere and shapeshifting,
You’ll love conditionally
‘Don’t worry’ you reach your hand out
Each time we touch I die a little more
Its scary out there,
Look in the mirror to feel safe
My mind puts up a fight
So I need you all again
The pity holds me well
Well enough to try again

There lives a stranger in my head,
She sees everything I see,
Hears everything I miss.
She has long hair, endless that flows into a river
She has small eyes that disappear at night
She preys on love like ants on a sugar cube
She grows stronger in hurt
Her hands are long, wrap me up in an instant
Suffocate me with hate I've forgotten
She waits patiently for prey to present themselves
Destroys only what she loves
The rest of the world watches me
As I stand helpless