Love is war

Someone loves me. I know someone does. I mean someone must, right? Wrong. It’s never that easy with love. There is no right or wrong answer. It’s never black or white. It isn’t even gray for chrissakes. It’s an whole different spectrum of colours. It’s like a little kid splattering paint all over the canvas.

CONFESSIONS #1: All pain, no gain…

Last week was filled with revelations, a search for quick fixes for permanent problems and temporary solutions for excruciating pain. Allow me to elaborate and enlighten you. A statutory warning is in action for you, my dear strong readers. These word might make you uncomfortable, make you cringe or make you squeal with delight if

December, a story…

The city was painted a dull, gray, throbbing entity by the freezing rain that had drenched the cold winter morning. Smoke rolled out of the chimneys of comfortable houses with comfortable furniture and comfortable children. London was merry. With Christmas only a few days away, people were enjoying their holidays with lush wine and the

Foundation for teeth

Wouldn’t foundation for teeth be a totally marvellous invention? Like seriously, why hasn’t anyone thought of it yet? I think I wanted to link it to something else and use it as a clever metaphor. But I’m drained and exhausted and the pulleys and levers in my brain are dry as a bone. So before

How he lives

Hi! So I’m back apparently and I’m not doing so well. I’ve been struggling to focus and commit recently. Like literally, I haven’t been able to focus on anything. And commitment is just a foreign word for me. I’ve always been a runner. Running away at the mention of the slightest inconvenience. But there’s a

Another silly little poem

I don’t believe you when you say I’m just a phone call away, Hate to break it to myself But no one cares if I’m okay, Spent my whole life searching for a sign Maxed all my credit cards, So why am I still waiting in line? Butter me up, With all your fake validations,

A poem from the depth of my personal debris

My mama always saidTo grow upBut I guess I grew downNever listenedNever really caredNow I’m at a crossroadsBut I never even dared To just close my eyesAnd to take a deep breathI’m not a person who dwells in the pastBut sometimes I wonderWhy I always come last Maybe it’s just in my genesBut I never

Blue pill, yellow pill and the white one that makes you go numb…

Just my second post and I’m already jumping into the heavy stuff. Whew! Boy is this gonna be a doozy. So I feel like you should know a little about me before I start rambling. You know, just so you can get the context. I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m all about being mysterious

A new story begins…

So, here I am, starting a new chapter of my life. And what better way to start than quoting your favorite poet? I believe it’s prudent, if not necessary, to begin your journey as a writer by paying homage to your source of inspiration and strength. The strength to wake up every morning and go