It seems our friendship ends here,
My friend
Let’s split this orange in two
Keep your half and don’t share it
Nothing left we want to mix together.
It has always been coming quietly
Probably from the moment we shook hands
The time has now arrived
Even as we try to elongate our texts
Force our voices with concern
Still waiting for the exit

We knew from the second
We walked different paths
That the ground would tremble,
And the cracks rise.
The gap has been widening
As the sun and moon switch places
Even if we ignore it and
Throw a smile across the divide.

The pretense now
Makes my skin crawl
Escape from this strange web
Coating around us is urgent
I know you have your stuff under hands
And want to keep them away from me
Here,
I’ll give it all to you on a gold platter.

But for some reason it won’t cross the table
It’s frozen to the touch,
I cannot get it over.
Unwilling to put down our dignity
Laid on the napkin exposed to the other
Making this process extend
Pulling out without an end

Continuously balancing
The thin string wobbling into the dark
Struggling as I carry memories on my back
Missing pieces increasing its weight
As it slips down I wonder who you are
Grudges I thought buried
Now splitting through the earth

It seems our friendship ends here,
My friend
The air has grown too toxic to breathe
I can no longer see you through the divide
Let us not even try and leave it at that.
Who will be the one to say it first?
Just look around for an excuse
Drop a bubble of silence
Hoping to set off a bomb of meaning
Nobody has to take responsibility
Let us escape.

Laughs abounding while
We crossed the dark streets
Now mock me
Showing only unknowing youth
There to fill a space where
I now realize you were thin air.
As fleeting as a passing joke
An initiation for the future..
What I thought was so tight
Loosened itself at a touch
And left the past at the back
As we walk through the tunnel.

Time has passed by
And swallowed us whole
Still falling down its’ throat
Passing by brief glimpses of moonlight
It’s dark sides showing up at my face
Always changing paths
I won’t hand you the compass
As I land at on my feet,
I want to enjoy the walk without you
Dusk is setting down on the streets
I see we are on opposite sides
Of the sun glazed windows

No longer able to meet each other’s gaze
Through the bright shine
Shut mouths full of words
That weigh on our tongues
The coat now fits us well,
Straightened out on our shoulders
Should now be able to walk
Pass by each other with a nod

It seems our friendship ends here,
My friend
Let’s buy two different train tickets
We don’t want to join the other
The seat beside me will be reserved.
But nothing is going past my lips
Let’s hurry up, the bell is ringing
Exchange phrases of good wishes
Both curious of our destinations
We’re adults now
Let’s board and leave

Pour another
Gin and T!
Soak in the din.
Sins sung phase into crescendo,
laughs leave our chests and wallets open.
It's just alcohol for dinner, tonight.
What? No lime!

God, I thought I was grown up.

You know, it just sunk in.
All these years I've been trying to be an "adult" trying to solve his problems,
And I just realised I'm one year away from becoming one with the same problems,
And I can't tell this cursed world saying "you can't put a kid through so much pain..."

There are things they don’t tell you about getting older,
how one day you will realize
that the home you grew up in
no longer feels like home
and you’ll be yearning for somewhere else
even as you are sleeping in the bed
that you slept in as a teen,
these changes come slowly,
but hit you all at once.
They do not tell you
that you will look the same
as you did last year
and last week
but you will feel like the world
shifted a few inches overnight
not telling you that it was going to do so,
but leaving you to pick up the pieces
of the memories it left as it moved,
you will grow to understand
that some things will never make sense
no matter how much you shake your fist at God
and cry into your mother's shoulder,
they do not tell you that you will not always be able
to cry into your mother's shoulder
or call your dad when your car breaks down
or feel comfortable in the places
that used to make your eyelids relax
into peaceful sleep,
they are too busy learning these things themselves
that they forget to tell you the things
you wish you knew
before it was too late.

"i am an adult"
are the words that escape her tongue
sixteen, barely seven
she thinks she is an adult

still reaching the top shelf with her tippy toes
laughter loud
unhesitant
large
she thinks she is an adult

speaking about politics
social justice
her life
she thinks she is an adult

one day soon
the weight on her shoulders will heavy
feeling the responsibilities
eyes dim
soul tainted

she will realise she does not want to be an adult

forced to grow up at such a young age
my father stopped reading me those bedtime stories
and the next thing i knew, i was alone
with nobody to save me from my worries

a young girl with a dream that would never come true
too naive to see through all the lies
and the pain behind her rose-colored glasses
that covered her sorrowful eyes

and as i sit in my tiny new room crying at 4 am on the carpeted floor
i realize that my mom won't comfort me like she used to
i'm alone in this world and i can never break through

I tell myself that I’ll one day,
Have everything I’ve always wanted
And more.
But as life passes and my time on Earth
Grows shorter and shorter.
And my struggles only seem to get harder
And more trivial at the same time,
I wonder if it’s even worth losing my hair or if I have invested enough, or even at all.

I wish I could have a conversation with
The girl I was ten years ago
And the woman I will be in ten years.

We shared stories as the hours passed by.
Each secret detail, leading to more intimate detail.
Hearing each others mistakes, failures, blunders..
It is an open invitation to share in the humility of the human condition.
We live within the tales of another, carefully refitting the pieces of each other.
So far from the picture we once held, but ever better, imperfect even.
The refined inadequacy is all the truth we ever needed.
For who would we be without them.