you impressed me

you were impressed upon me
the faint dent of your lips on the edge of my throat
the hollow of bright red fingers on my fading wrists
the stamp of words whispered against my hair
the print of heel warm on my knobbly knee
the dip of your elbows against my ribs
i was clay for you, dear potter
and i gave you all,
all that you chose to make
a shattered vase.


AN: Dismal day today. Current mood can be captured by A Fine Frenzy’s ‘Goodbye my Almost Lover’.

The dream-catcher came in a little

blue box with silk wrapping

and a satin ribbon, my fingers


clasping the little

strings of hope

woven together

in a cacophony of connections

and I hid it under my pillow

as I closed my eyes,


that this time

when your dimpled smile and

shaggy hair starred in my dreams,

it may do what I

could not



Hidden Conversations

“GO” I screamed.

Please don’t, my heart whispered.

“But…” he stuttered.

I don’t want to, his heart pleaded.

“I love you.” he mumbled.

Me too, my heart ached.

“Well, I don’t.” I snapped.

Don’t lie, his heart beseeched.

“Okay, then.” we said together

wiping our hands clean off dust

I’ll miss you, our hearts chimed together

silent fractures achingly exposed

You should leave, now.

I need you by my side.

I’ll collect my belongings tomorrow.

Don’t break my heart like this!

It’s all for the best.

My world is falling apart.

Good luck, then.

Hug me and say it’ll be okay.





The sounds of the man

and the sounds of the woman

and the sounds of their hearts

echoed forever in

the strange silence

that followed


never left.

Yesterday, I learnt.

I went on a road trip yesterday. I left early, when the sun was still on it’s upward journey, and like a dog I had my head out the window (I’d called shotgun) feeling the morning sunshine and bliss. I’ve always loved road trips because with the wind against my face, and my eyes on the sky, my brain always seems to go on overdrive.

Yesterday, I went on a road trip and I thought about you. I imagined a parallel universe where you and I had worked out. I imagined intertwined hands, selecting the best peaches and apricots from the bazaar sometime in the future. I imagined baking desert in the kitchen together, with flour on our faces and smiles in our eyes. I realised how the whole ‘Great Future Dream’ seemed shit without you in it, that the whole point of the ‘dream’ of our future was you, you, you. Just you. I thought about an alternate reality, where you and I were (as they say today) endgame. Where we had worked out.

Yesterday, I went on a road trip and it hurt to think. It hurt to think of “what could have been” and put it side by side with “what actually is” and see the harsh comparison and play Spot the Difference. The difference is the gaping hole in my heart, and the absence of a certain someone.

Yesterday, I went on a road trip and I let go. I accepted that my heart would never completely bounce back from all it has endured, but I suppose nobody does have a healthy heart in this world and scars and bandages are what make you normal. I accepted that I would never have you, and that’s okay, because I’d have someone else. Who wouldn’t be quite you, but he’d be enough.

Yesterday, I went on a road trip, and I healed.

Make A Wish

The sunlight landed on the streamers

taped clumsily across the wall

chocolate frosted cake on the table

twenty pairs of eyes blinked at me

hands clapping in glee

“Make A Wish. Blow the Candle”.

mum’s voice blew into my ear

And I wished

that i could eat the icecream

from the cart

across the park

and I wished that

she would buy me that blue

car I had seen in the store.

A group of giggling teenagers

sat huddled across

on a warm bed sharing

snacks and stories

“It’s 11:11! Make A Wish”

they whispered,

And I wished,

that I was more thinner

and less freckled

and that the boy with the

hair like gold

and eyes like emeralds

would walk over and

say hi.

It was a long drive

over endless plains and

the dark sky was lit by

stars scattered

we stopped for a while,

laid down on the sand,

“It’s a shooting star! Make A Wish!”

he pointed,

And I wished,

that my dead baby would

come back gurgling

and playing in my arms

and that

my heart would


feeling again.

The fountain was crowded

by hopes and dreams

and I clutched the


skeptically in my palm

“Throw the coin. Make A Wish.”

the signboard promised

and tears in my eyes

and a fervent prayer on my lips,

I wished,

I wished hard to go back

to those times

when my only

wish was

something to eat


something to play with.