(v) to take a break, to clear one's head; "to walk in the wind."

Month: September, 2014

My Galaxy

Thrown in a black hole, 

Named “His Love”. 

Years floating through darkness

Of dust and stars. 

I have escaped. 

I’ve seen the sun. 

And for the first time, 

It isn’t you. 



Crashed the Headlights

She watched herself burn.

She took a bad turn.

She lost sight of the moon,

On that one night of June.

Pain in her eyes,

From all his lies.

When will she finally realize?


It leaves.
Then it comes back.
It haunts me.
I forget about it.
It’s still there.
It does not exist,
Yet it is my greatest fear.

The monsters in my head,
That I call fear, jealousy and insecurities.
They are ghosts that should have died;
Lingering and following me around.

They make this puzzle so complex.
Though I am almost finished
And already holding the last piece.
Why am I searching for other pieces
To complete the missing space,
When the answer is already in my hands?
And all I have to do is to place it down.

And what seemed like an easy jigsaw
Becomes a stage performance,
And I am the actor with only one line.
The monsters, they scream.
They try to taunt me.
I struggle to fight back,
But I see them in the crowds.
And what seemed like one line
Felt like a dictionary I had to memorize.
And I mess up.
The monsters have won.
They always find a way to take over me.

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Cold Summer Nights

This is no longer about forgetting to wrap myself in a blanket before I fall asleep. Or the pouring rain which blows out winds that breeze in through my window. I am freezing. And I am tired of feeling cold.

The sunrises of 5 a.m. mornings wake me up, and my face is buried in my pillow. I smell the fragrance of lavender laundry soap and although it is lovely it is not the scent of you. I close my eyes. I roll over to the darker side of my bed, the side faced the wall, the side faced with you. I open my eyes. I look at you. You smile at me. You are not there. You are only in my memories. I touch the empty side of my bed, the bed sheets cold without another warm body to lay upon.

I am tired of feeling alone.

It is ironic how I felt some loneliness even with your presence. I think we both knew that those past months have been different compared to those past years. It was difficult being next to you– the icy tension getting sharper and sharper every passing minute that my hands were not intertwined with yours. It was difficult because you were a gust of cold wind that I always felt but tried to not see nor pay any attention to. It is difficult when I used to find warmth through the sound of your strings, your exceptionally trite jokes, your laugh, your smile. I remember the sun upon my cheeks when you kissed me there. I remember how it flushed like a sunset, turning pink– shining out like rays.

Everyday, they are all the same. Each waking morning I rise with the thought of you. It is not even in only the mornings. It is also during the darkest of nights, the loneliest of afternoons and all the moments in between.

There is no metaphor to describe how much I miss the old you. I want to feel warm again.

I want to feel loved again.

It is like walking through an endless blizzard that kept getting me lost. I am blinded by the snow, and all I want is to be found again. Maybe by someone new. Maybe by someone like you, except someone better. Someone that would not make the innocent Autumn leaves slowly falling, hail down like a cold winter storm.

I want to feel summer again.