Seven Things I mean When I Tell You “I’m Sorry”

(i) I don’t know how to stop being afraid, How to stop allowing fear to consume the cracks Of the place, we call home I’m afraid one day, They will crumble the walls that keep us safe  (ii) I don’t know how to love you Not quite in the way that I think you deserve…

Spain- Day 242

I realized I haven’t blogged about Spain half as much as I should’ve. After all, I did spend about a month of my exchange there. The first thing you notice about Alicante, is that there’s no hurry. Everyone seems to be so at ease and focusing on the now. It’s among the only places where…

Day 25- Belgium

How to survive being an exchange student in 5 simple steps: Month 1 (Easy version) (i) Immerse yourself in the language. Notice how listening to things you don’t understand all day gives you a slight headache in your left temple and all of a sudden you’re aware of how numb your body feels. Regret your…

Day 23- Belgium

Things that my inner voice has said to me the past few days on train rides in a foreign country I now call home; (i) I wonder why there is no universal language if all the emotions we try to convey are more often than not the same with just different strings of alphabets joined…

Revolution. 

Dear revolution,  See I have burnt too many letters in the past to take words for granted again.  So when I have finally mustered the courage to write to you, know that it is the product of words I’ve left unsaid.  My words make love to each other like estranged souls Even if most ears…

Reflection

The mirror sees you. It notices the scars that crease your face like constellations. It pays attention to your sunken eyes and dark outlines that sink into the pink. Stretch marks that stain the deepest blue around your curves. And scarlet nestle of spots that huddle around your leg. It tells you to smile more…

Psychotomimetic

Tormented by her nightmares Haunted by reality; In daily struggle to break free, Words were her surrender absorbed a world too blinded to wonder. Secrets hidden under exultant eyes, nights with psychedelic memories; vague flashes shadowed by sluttish confidence Inhibitions slowly fading under psychoactive spells. Magic no longer caused awe. Numb and blunt; It was…

Mad girl’s love song

“I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that…