me & my friends

me & my friends we had pasta for breakfast & chocolate for dinner. we got lost in the alleys & got drunk on sparkling water. we made husbands out of strangers & a house out of dreams. we chased the lights of the city & fell in love with the london breeze. our feet led … Continue reading me & my friends

Winter’s Blues

Winter’s Blues Crisping cold and militant windknock on my bedroom windowI’m shaking the night off my shoulders &wash away oppressive memories My hands are exanimate, my nails crumble,my eyes wander across the willowsMy heart’s still in the afterglow of last year’s spring Every time, when I lock my peevish eyesI’m still there and you’re still … Continue reading Winter’s Blues

i see you

dear me, i love you & forgive you for all the times in which you felt like you had failed. i know how hard you try each day, just to stay alive. i’m so sorry there were times where you felt like you weren’t good enough. you’re so brave & strong. i’m sorry i make … Continue reading i see you

Oh, what a year…

My hands are impatient. They want to write out my thoughts in words and metaphors. But my mind is still hesitant. Because, why would I want to reminisce about all the hardship, all the pain that I’ve suffered from this year?  For closure, my heart whispers. I need to write it off my mind. I … Continue reading Oh, what a year…

London, my beloved

The melody of the city Oh London, I was dreaming about you again. I woke up disoriented, homesick for your foreign magic, your crowded streets and your Victorian architecture. Yearning for your bittersweet taste & the sweet, cool smell of your early mornings. I’m craving for your sights to touch my eyes again. I want … Continue reading London, my beloved

i write when i’m sad

this song on repeat. my dress of the day before on the carpet. my eyes red from hopelessness. my fingernails uneven. my hair undone and falling out. my wrinkled nightgown. my damaged skin and bruised bones. my dreamcatchers defect. my polaroids fading. my unmade bed. the unfinished books on my nightstand. the cups of coffee … Continue reading i write when i’m sad