let me teach you
how to dance
to the song that is my heartbeat

first; lay your head upon my chest
stay silent, unmoving, hold your breathe
nothing?
no, there it is
steady, unyeilding, comforting
but as I feel you slowly exhale
it’s tempo accelerates
of course you induce that
‘butterflies in my stomach’ effect
if I was talking, I would’ve stuttered
as your fingers absentmindedly
drew patterns on my wrists
i could feel the hairs rising
my body calling out to your touch
gentle, calming, peaceful
and when I peak at you
your eyes are closed, relaxed
savouring the moment
our pulses meld together
and dance a tranquil tango.

We all want to live a happy and peaceful life but life is full of uncertainty. We always want things to happen as to how we design it but for some reason, an unexplainable force is trying to meddle causing us to sometimes detour.  We all live an enigmatic life, enthralling and at times, frustrating.

Like most ordinary people, I want to be happy too but I don't take full control over it. I've once read a quote from one of the coffee shops. They posted this on the wall saying, 'We're all given a paddle to propel and steer". But, the question is for how long should I be holding that paddle for me to stay on track. I am hurting and will always be. If there's someone up there who'd be able to grant my heart's wish, please hear me. All of my wishes failed, but I ask God to grant me HAPPINESS.


To all of the people along the way who hurt me, lied to me, betrayed me and broke my heart. DON'T WORRY, I don't hate you at all. In fact, I am always thankful that we crossed paths because you helped me to become a better person.


I want to be wild, beautiful and free just like the ocean.

Golden rays fleeting through, letting the warmth seep into your bones,
White sheets against your bare skin, joyous chirps of young sparrows,
The aroma of sweet bitter coffee and burnt toast wafting through the crisp morning air.

I lie in wait for space.
A space of my own
where quiet ambiance roams

Jasmine and mint steep in time
growing lax on a warm sunlit spot on the floor
my book groaning at me to read it,
just a little more.

something deeper than self-care
a little something of self-healing

I wait for you.
My mysterious being,
although I doubt you exist
I feel myself losing it all in the rift
of these futile wounds
and these nights of sunlit tunes