A Tale of Two Sisters One blonde, one brunette As awfully different as two girls could get. The brunette was calmer and softer and hotter, The blonde one was smarter and quicker and stronger. They grew up apart, one favored one lost, At the top of their classes, but not without cost. The brunette was an extrovert, she had twenty friends, But there were many expectations, the list never ends. It became her sole job,…
Like endless snapshots lost in a moment leaving no physical presence behind. This is a time when words don’t seem to resonate to despair. and honesty can’t be compromised through the tears. Movement feels like a betrayal. When words don’t do justice. The question of ” How can I without you?”. Then God gives you the strength, replaces a void with peace. Later, you will find their voice in the little things. Slowly you can…
A lone candle sits at the table to chase away the darkness of the night and the fear in her beating heart, as the flame plays to the breeze in the room and casts shadows on the walls long misshapen things that used to occupy her nightmares as a child, but now her shadows are real and alive no longer confined to night and candlelight. The ticking clock sounds louder and louder with every passing…
Inconsequential bliss or heart wrenching emotion. Let me introduce you to my soul: The resonating song you hear is not a melody or song but the rhythm of my tears as they rain down in a desert of loneliness, creating a mythical oasis of love that becomes a mirage once called upon. These colours you see are not my favourite colours, but shades of burdens thrust upon me, tints of grey made by choices I…
Mamma, I do not want to hurt you. You’ve taught me that patience is a virtue and I know it is not apparent as of late, but I would gladly sit and debate the validity of my existence and I would bite my tongue with persistence, if it means that you would accept me and let me love who ever loves me. Mamma, can you say it’s a choice when all I do is lower…
What lasts? Things bright, shiny and new, or things worn out and lived through? Where is the consistency in love, when loss lurks at every corner? A perpetual reminder, that all we’ll ever truly know is the absence of something. It’s been quiet and I’ve been tracing back to all the instances of you. Truth be told, the memories are fading. Thank god, or whoever. I thought I’d never rid myself of the ghost of…
There are no memories to see or share today – none at all Just now, just the tall, alien pines strangled by the bamboo an old disused fence in the middle of the forest an empty black pond fragmented bones of a house The view does not look at you but the neighbours do from the opposite hill snipers in the green tin roof shining signals There are no memories to see or share today…
Beige is the itch inside my head The dreary, drab walls I stay locked in I’m a townhouse with a freshly painted facade, But moldy wallpaper and carpets that are soaked with the stench of cigarette smoke I’m trapped in this house Blinds nailed to the sills Doors latched by keys long lost Milk spoiled And the fridge smells stale I sit in musty rooms on crumbling couches as oblivious pedestrians pass by and…
You look at my hands and see cute, dainty things Soft palms that shape sweet rolls Nimble fingers that pluck cello strings A tender touch that runs fingers through your hair and won’t let you go I look at my hands and wonder if they’re ugly or bad My fingers too long My nail beds shaped wrong My palms too big My pinkies crooked My fingertips coarse I hate my hands because I was convinced…
This morning your house hugs me tight – the purring fridge the drying laundry your smells lingers on my fingers today your four walls hold me This morning your house hugs me tight Fried eggs and hot chocolate on a bar chair the yolk spreads, reaches for my skin I lick it absently This morning your house hugs me tight I dance in your kitchen I wash the dishes I sing softly I cover my…