I wear the badge of honor on my chest,
saying I've been through hell and back
and I'm still living,
some say
that when they've looked into my eyes
they see an undeniable strength
and deep intense pain
so what do I say to that ,
I say that is truth.
But maybe I wanna stop having to feel that
my victim stories
are all who I am
because they are not,
I am only now starting to find myself
at 26 it feels so late in a way
its so hard to relate to many people

I feel like the  small talk
makes escape feel easy
or hard whichever way you wanna see it
I feel like I wanna just run again
change my name
so I forget my family
so I forget the religion
that brought me up
to shame myself
my body
my sexuality
and to make me hate my gender
of being a women
when will we stop allowing others
to teach our children hatred
I wanna be a force of fire
in the world
a fire to eradicate the abuse
the hurting the pain
to be the voice of the voiceless
maybe my poetry
helps someone I don't know
maybe this is why I write
real pain exists in the world
but it doesn't end there ,
I am healing ,
but the road can be quite rocky at times
so I wear my battle scars
as a badge of honor
to know I've made it this far
so I can go on
for more
for longer
to hold out for hope
that things will get better and improve.

it's five o clock
yes in the morning
birdsong has woken me
an hour and a half
before my alarm
was supposed to
even after another
terrible night's sleep
to-ing and fro-ing
with tossings
and turnings
staring into the blank
of ceiling and wall
not enough comfort
or perhaps too much
on this slumped mattress
to slip deep enough
beyond those initial
stages of slumber
down into REM
i'm surprised to find
i'm not as angry
nor as drained
as i thought i would be
at such premature awakening
i can lie still
untroubled for now
contentedly listening
to the chattering
of these feathered neighbours
an avian symphony
of movements manifold

Be patient with yourself
Be patient with others
Because no one has it all together

let me write you
an eight words letter.

“I don’t deserve you
cause’ I deserve better.”

When the impossible
becomes inevitable
& all else seems to fail,
obstacles that once burdened
paths fall to the wayside,
making way for silent miracles.

I admire the Sunflower
Who faces that Flaming Star
And grows despite the burning
Who stands tall amongst the weeds
Radiating light
Even in the harshest rains

It is hard to tell sugar and salt mixture apart by merely glancing or touching. I wish I could master the art of segregating them without any arduous chemical process.

According to wikiHow, one may assess the grain sizes of salt and sugar. But they too, acknowledge that table salt and granulated sugar do look very similar; the differences in these 2 is minute.

Option 2: Acquire a sieve sized in between the 2 grain sizes so as to let the salt through. However, this method is clearly not fool proof since not all salt and sugar grain is of the same size. A salt granule could mask itself.

The best way to separate salt and sugar is by adding absolute alcohol to the mixture as only the sugar will dissolve, salt is insoluble in alcohol. Then after, proceed to evaporate or boil off the sugar and alcohol solution and you will be left with salt.

Much like in life, it requires more than looking or tactility to tell between genuine and the pseudo. It takes time, takes processes and occurrences. I once more wish I could distinguish them easily.

Then again, as much as I am grateful for the sugars in my life, excessive amount of sugar isn't all that good for the health. Salt heightens the sweetness of sugar; it teaches me to appreciate sugar better. More importantly, salt, to a moderate amount, does good to the body too.

As such, I am grateful for both the sugar and salt in my life. Sugar provides a sense of joy, while salt is vital for personal growth.