​A Poem For The Boy I’m Not Sure Exists.

I dream of you every night, 

And it’s always the same;

You sneak into my semi conscious brain

With the subtle footsteps 

Of foamy seawaves on a very windy day,

But, that’s okay,

I mean, writing you love letters before I even knew you existed?

I might not know what subtle is, 

But if you open the dictionary to the word that’s the opposite of it, 

You’re gonna find my picture.

See, you visited me one night,

So is it really my fault if I only sleep in hopes that you will maybe once again?

But I only catch glimpses of your shadow here and there,

I chase your footsteps across the ruins of my mind,

And I think I’m only going around forming crop circles in the blue flower fields.

But then, I wake up in the mornings to 4 PM sunbeams, golden and lovely, scattered all over my pillows and on my cheeks,

And really, I think you need to stop playing this hide and seek with me,

Just drop over into my reality the way I drop my pencils all over the place,

And believe me, love, I’ll draw you like it’s the only thing I’ve ever lived for,

Because that’s true, 

And I’ll make you my best masterpiece. 

Just the way you are.

I sleep with the nightlight on these days,

And my father looked at me like he didn’t know who I was anymore the next morning 

After he saw the faint light peek out under my door one night, 

But you change me into someone I never knew I wanted to be,

And I’m here waiting for you with my nightlight on,

In hopes that maybe if you sneak by into my dreams again, 

I’ll wake up with your laughter streaked across my eyelids, 

In hopes that maybe I’ll see it clearer, 

Remember it this time, 

Sew your crescent lips into the dark split seconds of each blink,

Hold it close every time the world goes black.


Image found on Tumblr.


I Will Not Apologize.

The sun apologizing for burning too bright,
It has never been heard of;
The moon apologizing for days when it must hide away,
It has never been heard of;
The stars apologizing for their incessant twinkling,
It has never been heard of;
The clouds apologizing for veiling the sky’s blue with their cottony embrace,
It has never been heard of;
The mountains apologizing for marring the earth with their magnificence,
It has never been heard of;
The sea apologizing for churning too chaotically;
It has never been heard of;
Why then, my dear,
Must I apologize
For burning as bright as the sun,
And then hiding away like the moon,
For eyes that twinkle like the stars,
But are veiled the very next moment,
For standing tall and magnificent,
With tornadoes raging inside me,
Why must I apologize for my greatness,
When I was born with universes inside of me,
Bursting to be let out?
And if it is too much for you to take in,
I will not apologize for being who I am,
You can go waste your time away
You can go
Find another puppet.

Image taken from here.

Old Times’ Sake.

If you must act so insolently

Just because my blue skies

Are now grey thunderstorms

You cannot bear the sound of,

Please continue,

Only remember that even today,

If you were to hand me a cup of poison,

I would gladly drink it for old times’ sake.

Painting: “Sophonisba Receiving the Poisoned Cup” by Rembrandt.

Sleepless Insanity.

It is said those who don’t sleep

Confuse dream with reality.

First you took away my sleep,

And now you’re clutching at my sanity.

Image credits: Tauba Auerbach


Light strobes flashing;

Purple, blue, red and green,

Cutting through the haze,

Gray with pretty colors in between

Closed eyes, slumped bodies,

Worshipers in the temple of euphoria,

All in seek end up here;

This is the end to the exalted quest

Of happiness, of purpose, of lost innocence,

And what better way to gain all these,

Than lose yourself in blue euphoria,

Cut off from reality,

Even if just for a short while?

Image taken from: Tauba Auerbach


Handle With Care?

I’m scared, I’m scared and I’m confused and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who we are anymore, I don’t know who I am anymore. My bruised knuckles feel foreign and so does the faint beat in my chest that rises to a crescendo at times, I’m losing my touch with reality again. The days drag on and they intertwine with nights like two lovers on a Saturday morning, impossible to tell apart. The thunder feels too loud to my fragile ears, and sunshine too bright to my eyes; the only thing constant in all this is the peace rain brings.

A lulling,


unattainable peace,

because the chaos inside is too wild to be contained.

Oh, if only you could feel what I do, you’d treat me with a lot more care, my dear.


Please don’t let me fight all my demons,


And please do not try to fight all your demons,


Because neither of us is strong enough to

Survive the fight,

I swear I can’t take anymore

Sleepless nights.

Can’t you see, I’m already

Falling apart?

Only a day without you and

It’s breaking my heart.


Lately, I’ve noticed happiness creeping in,
I’m always too busy laughing to confront it,
To ask
Where it had been for the past few years,
Where it was when I needed it the most,
But suddenly, it is there
And its presence hits me in the face
In the middle of a laugh,
So hard that it takes me a minute or two,
To breath normally again.
It fills me up from the inside,
And I realize
I am content,
I am happy,
And when I say I’m fine,
For once,

I really mean it.

The Fourth Piece.

It was late by the time I was picked up, but I didn’t mind. Today, you see, there was something special about the evening.

It wasn’t the clear tapestry of hues that it usually was, not at all, rather, today it was just blue, simple, plain, blue, but the color enhanced the beauty of the full moon all the more as it played hide-and-seek with the opaque grey dragon, the sky their playground. I was mesmerized by their game of chase, gazing at the sky enraptured when I realized, it didn’t really matter if you leave and never look back, if you never think of me ever again; what happens to us doesn’t really matter, for at the end of the day, I would always be alright as long as I had the night’s allure to share my melancholy with, and I realized with a start, I’d found another piece , the fourth one, within the grey veils of the moon.

The First Three.

I have started to find pieces of myself again, little shards here and there in the most unexpected, the most ordinary of places, like in a flaming orange curtain blowing with the gentlest of breeze, it reminded me of fire, and of a book I once read about an enchanted house some years ago.

I found another piece on the shore of the sea once beloved by me, it lay there gleaming in the glorious sunset and it took me a minute before I realized what it was and picked it up, fitting it back into my heart.

A third piece I found as it fell from the night sky, a shooting star in it’s own right, it landed in my backyard, glowing with the moon and the starbeams it had collected from it’s time in the heavens. I put it back where it belonged too, between the flaming curtain and the gleaming sunset.

I have just found three pieces yet, and I have innumerable more to find but I wonder how euphoric it must be to have found all of yourself again when only three have made me so complete, and what that says about the empty void inside of me.