More than just somebody’s wife

I see perfection glancing past me

gentle knowing eyes placed too close together

a ghost of a smile silhouetted against uneven teeth

a dreamy air of elegance practiced,

chiselled by the dreams of many

she was perfection in its truest form.

Skilled hands meant for so much more,

greeting guests with chai and coffee

she worked her way through the gossiping crowd,

a nod here

a congratulatory whisper there

she played the gracious wife

born to play much more.

Carrying more than just refreshments for ‘her’ guests

her cracked dreams lay cradled within her

scratching, prodding, cutting her inside

she refused to set them down for anyone.

for now she would play the perfect wife

her glittering jewels no more than borrowed costume

but someday she’d play the queen reigning

dented armour, flawless courage.

her dreams would live to be whole

decorated, framed, glistening

from their shelves as awards

no more serving refreshments in someone else’s home.



shorts #1

The jagged glass lay scattered

Reminiscent of what was once whole,

Glittering like diamonds

Yet telling of a fight, of love gone cold.

Depression. Maybe.

Smile and nod

Smile and nod

“Yeah exactly” I say animatedly

As I smile and nod.

Teeth bared but politely

Hands raised but waving slightly

Teary eyes cloaked by laughter

I keep pretending.

I want to be anywhere but there

Yet there is nowhere id be happy.

I want to be anywhere but here, I think to myself

As I agree to a plan that id rather sabotage instead.

I reach wildly for excuses

Struglling, shuffling, pulling at straws

Doing what I can to distance myself without offending.

I don’t want to be here

But where else would I go.

Every moment spent with company feels hollow, meaningless

But every moment I spend alone I cry about the loneliness

The unhappiness that threatens to submerge me in self pity

As my chest shrivels at the thought of living and carrying on.

Disgust and anger boils under my skin as I gather myself

Tearing through the walls of my veins,

I feel the depression leering at me once again.

Smile. Giggle. Everything is okay.

Everything is okay.

Everything is okay.

I chant to myself as I try to focus on words that aren’t mine

Try to decode the thoughts flowing out of someone else’s mind

I listen intently trying to work out their message

And decipher what im supposed to do in response,

But – Everything is okay. No.

Everything is okay.


Some Men

26.6.17 – 2:28 am


Women are clingy, Women don’t give you space, women are difficult, that’s what the men say. But the truth about it all, lies in the hands of men, as they grab onto your hand in a forced romantic way. They twist their way into your life, demand attention when you have none to spare, they ask for things that you don’t offer and forgive you when you don’t give in. Men are sweet, they do romantic things, “You’re pretty, can I have your number” they look at you with alarm when your answer doesn’t fall in line with theirs. Some men seem to have an uncontrollable drive; they say they’ll wait until you’re ready yet they’ll remind you of all the time, the time they’ve wasted waiting. Every one of them who said they liked me, did it for some weird selfish goal of theirs, refusing to take no for an answer, refusing to let go even after I begged. It was easy for me to give up, every time I had a crush, so what made them so special, that attention they thought they deserved. Ask them for space and they’ll give you an arm’s length, then they’ll be back before you know it, expecting a ‘fair’ trade on terms they’d left unsaid.

Whenever you offer them a hand, hoping to make peace, they grab on higher and higher and higher, they grab on so you can’t force them to let go. Sometimes you manage to pull them off, agree to coexist separately, but every time you look up they’re watching, hoping to catch your eye, a friendly reminder that they stuck to the promise you asked them to keep. These are the good guys I hear, the good guys who really care, but what if they’re supposed to be good to someone else and my no isn’t a betrayal to the world of men. Late one night as i stay up dreaming, I feel my phone buzz, a text, a casual reminder of things that no longer are, a forceful reminder of the times that we shared. ‘Can you keep another secret?’ He asks, another secret I don’t want to hear. Think about it he says, reminding me of thinks id sworn I never wanted to live through again.

 “We’re still friend right?” Another asks, hovering, watching, always around. Accepting momentary acknowledgements he waits, guilt flushing my veins as I scramble to make up for not falling in line with his wants. He, they, offer me a little escape, opening up and erasing the lines and suddenly I’m back sinking, the no I said now just treated as another lie.  Maybe the problem is mine, I can’t appreciate a gentleman’s smile, maybe I’m failing as a woman, just dreaming too big of a hero in disguise. Maybe I’m the one who isn’t trying enough, incapable of appreciating what is in front of me. Maybe I’m the problem, yeah just maybe, but then again I wouldn’t give up freedom for their reality.

You know what they say though, just maybe we were meant to be, and someday we’ll fit each other like a hook to an eye. A match like no other, an open eye no longer needing light.

Thought pile

We speak of love while holding grudges against accidental strangers who did no wrong. We ask for equality when we’re willing to fight only if we feel threatened or harmed. We look into each other’s eyes and make promise that we know we won’t keep but we say those words anyways; we let those lies slip through our teeth, while we whisper to ourselves words of comfort to convince ourselves that it’s for the best.

We lower our eyes at the occasion of a tragedy, not out of respect but in an attempt to shelter ourselves from sights, from the thoughts that could keep us up at night. We smile and say everything will be okay, trying to will things into existence, or sometimes out of existence, as we pray for the pain to go away. We pretend not to feel jealousy or hate, afraid to admit to these base emotions and let the world know that we’re only human. Because being human is no longer enough, we all want to be ‘more’.

Normalcy is an abstract concept, shaped century by century, second by second, a collection of averages put together haphazardly so we can begin our journey pretending we’re all the same, yet refusing to accept the similarity. Then we pretend we’re all unique, wanting to stand out and be noticed by the universe, yet we reject the idea of being ‘different’. We push and pull at the elastic walls of the world we created without realising it ourselves, trying to see the universe when we don’t even understand ourselves. We leave people unexplored, hunting instead for a god who will save us from the unknown yet take us to another unknown. We shun religion but we pray, hoping some force will help us through things that are beyond our control. We pray for ourselves and we pray for the world and we pray for the future as we struggle to make it through a day without cursing someone.

We’re running, always running, leaping towards a destination, scrambling to keep a grip on reality as our focus struggles to hold on to a goal that might not be our own. Every day we live, keep on living as we die slowly, speeding towards a better tomorrow or a catastrophe that will make sure there isn’t a tomorrow. We don’t know but we keep moving anyways. We’re always fighting to stay standing, not knowing that it’s okay to still for a while. We fight to prove that we are alive, even though a single breath is enough to tell us that we exist.

We exist in colour yet we perceive in primary shades and secondary shades and shades that we label because that’s just who we are. We’re not bad or good; there is no divide between the two. A simple wave, a slight caress could move us to into the abyss between the two figurative extremes, where we struggle with reason to guide us instead of our hearts, hoping our ancestral archetypes will tell us how to decide between rights from wrong. We admit to no mistakes as we stumble and crawl through life, always moving, always surviving in bits and pieces.

We’re still real underneath all the drama and sludge. Under layers of clothes and tissues and scars and memories, we’re real and we are here. Always close to giving up, yet always going back to dig graves and roads and pave futures for those who come next. We survive, and we force everyone to survive, out of selfish need and selfless humanity we convince others to keep living. We hold hands to comfort and to save guiding someone as we’re guided ourselves. We keep moving. Dancing, skipping, crawling, swimming, and tiptoeing around glass canyons and stone clouds. We move. We keep moving. And so life goes on…


I always prayed that all the noise

All the shouting

Every yelled insult

All of it would just



I wanted peace

Some heavenly respite

A breath of silence

To wash over us.

But nothing came of it.

We fought like we were

Possessed by spirits,

Clawing at each other’s minds

Ripping out chunks of each other’s

Exposed, speeding hearts.


But suddenly one day

When we were expending

The last of our souls

Determined to bring the other down,

The sound, your voice,

It was all gone.

You gave up on us.


There was a hollow silence

Carved out by your absence,

While I stood frozen

Unable to breath

Incapable of shattering the void

With even the sound of my broken sob.


I’d always prayed for silence

But i didn’t want it anymore,

Its haunting presence

Draining my life

Arresting even my heart

Leaving my mind, body

Devoid of the energy,

Suckling at my resolve

To hold on.


This silence was worse

Than any sob or shout

Because it left me alone with myself

And ever since then,

I’ve been terrified of what I found.


I open my eyes to the glaring light

Blink. I can’t see

I’m blinded by your lies.


My eyes adjust to the brightness

I can see a little now

Blink. Your light is slowly going out.


All I’m left with is the darkness

That’s blinding me once more

Blink. You’re gone

Just left, disappeared

Letting me stumble to the floor.

Speak Now

I parted my lips to speak
A breath of whispered words rushed out
I knew how to talk
But I didn’t know how to be heard.
Ideas, they danced
Tumbled and flew in my head,
But they didn’t know how to leave
How to rush out.
I sat.
I listened.
I could speak.
My turn would come.
I would let my thoughts be heard.
I waited, listening.
Everyone glanced at me,
Giving me a chance,
I smiled.
Shook my head and let the moment pass,
They weren’t great ideas anyways.
There’s always next time…Or not.


She stood at the edge of the river,

Her hair blew around in the wind.

She smiled at the moon that shone down upon her,

In the incandescent light, her tears glistened.


The world had worn her out,

She had nowhere else to go,

Her life had fallen apart around her,

The pressure had broken her strings.


She’d had enough of the pain,

Had enough of the fights,

Happiness had deserted her long ago,

The light had left her eyes.


No more could she put up a front,

No longer could she pretend,

She had nothing left to give,

Her strength was long since diminished.


She stared at the white water of the river,

That rushed against all the stones.

She’d sat here and wept many a times,

Watching her sadness flow away with the river’s force.


But this wasn’t like all those other times,

When she’d cried all she could and then walked away.

This was the last time,

This had been her last day.


She had always loved rivers,

Always loved their power and force,

So loosing herself in its coursing waters,

Seemed a fitting way for her to go.


Letting out a deep breath,

She thought of everything she was going to leave behind,

But a glance at the deserted space around her,

Showed her exactly, the complete emptiness that was her life.


She looked back at the water,

Feeling finally prepared,

She took a step into the freezing river,

Ignoring the icy sting that ran through her veins.