And full stops are powerful, and darling, so are you. It’s okay.

I am writing this for you. You, with sleepy eyes from staying up late, fingers still scrolling down the screen. Wait. Stop scrolling. I am writing this so that you know it’s okay You feel empty. You have too much inside. This is not a poem, but I want you to know that you are. … Continue reading And full stops are powerful, and darling, so are you. It’s okay.

Advertisements

I am now playing my guitar, my tears falling on her, rolling down her face.

Have you missed me? Because I have. Yes, I have missed me. I have missed the raging fire that used to engulf me whole, word by word. Now I’m but the mere rubbing of flint. Fire and desire, both turned into perennial question marks. Do I have the permission to ask you the questions that … Continue reading I am now playing my guitar, my tears falling on her, rolling down her face.

When I sit alone in the middle of the night, I try to find you in the dark. 

“Happiness is a pop song. Sadness is a poem.” I had often wondered what it means to be sad. It was long before I met her. I had fallen in love a fair number of times before, and I would wonder each time things ended, if this was what it meant to be a sad … Continue reading When I sit alone in the middle of the night, I try to find you in the dark. 

Or are you now just friends, but in memories?

How did you fall in love? Was it loud enough for him to hear your emotions? A prom with him between the sandstorms whilst the two of you caught the harmony off your sufferings. Everyone dissolved into dust, scattered in the air, and it was his face, just his face that you could fathom in … Continue reading Or are you now just friends, but in memories?