my soul is
wandering
and i am
wondering
if it is
wandering
in search of you or
wondering
about the idea of you

at 8:03
dad woke me up

at 8:36
i washed up

at 8:58
i made coffee

at 9:03
i sat outside

at 9:04
i looked out

(and)

at 9:07
the horizon disappeared

today i wear lacy
underwear
but underneath that i am
bare

today i realise that
infatuation
destroys and emphasises on
flirtation

today is the day i learn that
it
obliterates everything and anything with one swift
hit

today i bare my soul to the
abyss
the abyss that steals every last
kiss

today i finally open my
eyes
to the daunts and despair that life
buys

today, i bleed myself
dry
without an
ally

.

i am not a morning person but i marvel in its catharsis. be it getting up early or going home late, the eerie quiet of dawn creeps into your soul and under your skin sending chills down your spine, just enough to irk you to no end. the lack of noise from the hustle and bustle of city life calms my entire being and there is that elusive sense of safety but yet not entirely so. it’s as if breathing in the six a.m. air is as effective as my morning dose of coffee - energising and invigorating.



i am most definitely not a morning person, but i’d very much like to be.

I yearn to wake up to the smell of freshly baked bread and the strong aroma of a new batch of coffee. Sat on the balcony in a quaint apartment overlooking the ocean - mug in one hand; cigarette in another - with a view that words cannot begin to comprehend. The cool salty sea breeze tousling my morning bedhead as I look to you, my heart is full - I am the luckiest girl in the world.

I’ll start
but
it never finishes.

Words flow
but
nothing truly

Thoughts come
but
hardly are

Love blossoms
but
never ever

Pain jolts
but
it doesn’t

You’ll die
but
your legacy lives.

skies -   a mix of orange and yellow
blankets of cotton candy clouds
blue and white
alike The Starry Night
mixed with evening light
with swirling parallel lines that     - blend -
orange, red, purple, yellow, blue          egressing the sky as pastels!

a perfectly blended ombré of - cool -
hues of blue and - warm -
hints of the orange - sunset -
poetically painted across the sky beside
under blankets of, now, dark clouds.

watching day transition to night;
completely and utterly sublime.

I .
i feel your pull
that ****** sensation
causing my bones to shudder
as you pull me close
and say my name;  
my knees go weak
and i drop to the ground
to charm the snake.

II.
you pick me up in one fell swoop,
my body moving in tandem with your touch,
my hands locked around your neck;  
your lips fit perfectly with the contours of mine
and my legs moulded onto your dips of your hips.

III.
you ram my back against the wall ever so slightly
but yet with enough force to take my breath away.
tongues shoved down throats
with hands pinned up against the wall.
i was yours
and you were mine.

IV.
this is where
love and lust
gets mixed up;
lost in translation
because it gets
way too steamy
ever so swiftly.

V.
your hands slide down my pants
and i shut my eyes,
hands gripping the sheets,
with legs sprawled out.
(breathes) i n
and
(breathes) o u t
and in
and out.

VI.
our eyes locked
and we knew it was time;
it was our time to shine.

when we embraced
all i wanted to do was to look at your face
to see what not wanting to let go
looked like

that deep breath in and out  
at the nape of my neck
seemed to go on
for forever

goodbye, too
felt like a lifetime
and i fear that a lifetime will never
be enough

i apologise for not being
                                 becoming enough of a person

personifying a human being
                                        besieged by the lack thereof emotions.

emotionlessness consumes me
                                                metaphorically speaking, or it maybe

magnanimously just spares my heart -
                                                        hesitat­ingly, yet all-encompassingly.  

altercations between the conscious and sub
                                                                ­      supersedes any revelations whatsoever

whereby a somewhat sound mind like mine
                                                                ­     mimics that of a child

choking on the fear of the monstrosity lurking;
                                                                ­    lurching from under the bed.

bewildered by the bogeyman,
                                 bogus feelings, confused mind

mischaracterising i
                                i am sorry

somewhat, somehow
                                        sorry.

at three years of age,
love was
your imaginary friend Jessica
or the battered hippo toy you got in your baby basket
or being able to eat dessert before meals.

three years later,
love was
when you could stay up past 9 watching the tv
or getting to play with friends past sundown
or waking up in your own bed after falling asleep on the couch or in the car.

three years ago,
love was
whichever boy would ask you out
or hold your hand
or touch your face.

three years from now,
love will be
staying headstrong in your career
or marrying your soulmate
or fighting for what you believe in.

i used to think that ***
was only for skinny people
because those who can't even
look at their own naked reflection
would not be able to let anyone else do so

it is different now

Tonight I miss you just  
a little - more - than usual.
Dawn breaks.   8am sunrises.   Time slips.  
Gracefully,
I melt like the winter’s snow
under the glowing sun.
Choosing with every passing day
to grow closer to you
to hold only your hand,
to kiss only your lips, and
to touch only your skin
for now and
for as long as time will allow.

not in riddles but in lyrical ballads.

let us dance under the moonlit sky
cold water beneath our feet
eyes closed, swaying in silence

address unknown.

maybe it is easier to claim to
not believe in love and
to stray away from the topic of
not having been in love
just to hide the fact that i envy what they have
as being something i will never have
however i've been meaning to see the light at the end of the tunnel
but this tunnel is just way too dark and this light seems to be non-existent
especially when all you are is
blind(ly wanting to feel <title>)

the thing you
fail to understand
is
who i am now
is who you
told me to be,
showed me to be and
taught me to be.
even if it wasn't what
you envisioned me to be,
it is who i am and
was guided to be.

you were mine
but then you weren't

the waiter looks like you
the uber driver sounds like you
the stranger smells like you

but they weren't
you

you shall see anon
what hath befallen
upon which i would fain prove so
the false pretense
of which my visage fares  
(or not)

so, mark -
i will only say this once
whatever vestige of hope present
so haply prompt;
take ahold and
let prosper

I like to find beauty in the Ordinary but You - you are Extraordinary.

As you sit next to me typing away on the computer whilst I attempt to stay awake, there is a stillness in the air and time just slows down for a split second. Then you lean in and plant a gentle kiss on my forehead - one that restarts the clock ever so slightly that I didn't even realise that it had stopped.

I love you, the different parts of you, and every last bit of You.

the lake of fire -
Hellfire.
i was skeptical.
but this Northern climate drowned
the flames to ashes.

gathering cinders
i found that burning
ember;
alike that of the spark
Prometheus stole from Zeus
that would light the eternal flame -
the gift of Life to Man,
the beginning of a new world.  

i realised that our
symphonies harmonised
or dare i say -
kindred spirits -
started to burn

bright.

you were an unfortunate walk in the dark. I clasped ever so tightly to the rope that I thought would lead me to - you -. Instead, it led me to a you - one that was overwhelmingly underwhelming; one that taught me that words mean almost nothing; one that showed me that complete breakdowns fraught with tears, justifications, and empty promises are nothing but a B-grade actor's (one that almost fooled me) attempt at putting on his best show. I was desperately waiting for someone to toss me that lifeline and pull me out of that wreckage. But the sad and undeniable truth is that they probably just thought I was part of the wreck.

i will never be enough, but that is okay
because i will just never be enough for you.

i will be more than enough for someone else
and i am most definitely enough for myself.

i miss the sound of your voice echoing around the emptiness of your barren room

you reading your favourite poems in hushed tones as if whispering sweet nothings into my ear

i miss the mellow beat of your heart, the rise and fall of your chest, and your warm breath on my face

I ache to find my way home;
sometimes home embodies a place
or pray tell, a person.
Home, for me, is my sense of self;
however, i'm afraid that whilst
             - with you -
and allowing you to navigate /home/,
I lost my way.

Please let me find my way home.

i do

(not)

believe in love

The swell of waves
or globus sensation  

and the tongue having
gone through utter drought.

Sandpapered throat
had been choked raw

the pulling back of the (Tide.
Tsunami of thoughts

words lost in the chaos and roar
droplets racing down

drought no more?

but to be known is a different story altogether;
to be known is to be loved.

you lash out
you try your very best to justify their actions
you grasp at the slippery ***** of hope  

but it was never enough

that gaping hole in your heart
that you try to fill with hurtful words of resentment casted at them
that aching feeling of abandonment

was all for nothing
because they never came back

my mind a blur, but
that cafe in reykjavík crystal clear. as if
stuck in that moment, doomed and trapped.
it was but a flash of clarity -
brilliance! -
of peace. sun shining(crisp air)
desperately clinging to the memory that is all but
when i close my eyes and surrender to the void.

only some roses are red
violets are not actually blue
so why don't you just go ahead
because you haven't a clue

you said that i was the most exotic flower;
but flowers wilt
and flowers die.

what now?