January 2012
20 posts
5 tags
breathe.
cigarette, smoke, your fingernails write your desire in scratches down my back i inhale you and i own you, from the inside out, caramel on my tongue lust, setting deep tones and fanning embers into a fire, can you feel it ”yes, i feel your arms tangle into me” and i know you are afraid your hands pulling at the bare thread of my skin you push me away and you pull me in, your naked...
6 tags
Dearest -
I can call you that, right? I can evince the softest shade of emotion for you? You don’t mind? No? Okay then.
Dearest,
My heart is a pomegranate. Red. Ripe. Ready to burst. On your tongue. In your hands. I
( let’s pretend I exist in the singular, worn body and tired eyes aside)
am cohesively yours. In parts and together. A fingernail from my left hand, my right ear, my...
And then they all fell down.
I wonder if anyone will notice if I quietly go crazy. I really do. It feels like I might.
3 tags
She dreams of fame through mists of blood. She seeks eternity in sex and lust, in the planes of his stomach, the plumpness of his lips. She shatters like a clockwork, every day at three in the morning under the neon lights of the latest club.
She has a dozen secrets hidden in the twist of her lips. Her eyes are older than her face, older than the body she gives away more freely than she should....
Dear Tumblr,
There is no one else around for me to talk to so I guess you are it. Congratulations. So my dad is in the hospital, at Emergency actually while they do the usual tests on him to find out what’s wrong with him and why is he in so much pain. And I’m at home, in front of the computer, drowning in my blanket trying, desperately, not to think of all the ways in which things...
These days I prefer to live every single moment and experience all of it wholly, completely. It has been an interesting experience but does not give itself too much to introspection and reflection which are necessary (to me) when writing. So bear with me for a bit longer and hopefully my muse makes a full recovery and I can, once again, write my thoughts onto the silence and make it ponderous.
5 tags
I wish I could speak a language, one in which you didn’t exist. Then I wouldn’t feel like a metallic kitchen on a winter morning: a blue tabletop, one abandoned jar of cold milk, the dew on the windows and white oblong tiles with a star in the middle. Clean. And barren. I wouldn’t feel like that. And when I hear footsteps I wouldn’t think it’s you And when someone...
The vacancy in your soul is sanctioned by the vapidity of your mind.
1 tag
(Requested by Jessie.)
My love has three layers: chocolate, caramel and jelly. You are in none of them.
(I’m being silly.)
3 tags
I flagrantly disregard tradition in turn, tradition ignores my existence I am singular. Yes. The world, my world, calls it a sin. As if mercy comes with a ring. Glow glorious, Sister, spread your wings. I am forever jumping off bridges just to see if I can fly. I can’t but the bruises always fade with time. There’s a certain prurience about you as if the air itself doesn’t know...
2 tags
Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s 2012. Now I shall go back to sleep.
December 2011
50 posts
1 tag
Dearest people who read my words,
I want to thank you for all the times you have read my work and clicked the “like” button. (It tickled me pink.) I hope the new year brings you beginnings you have been searching for, that your dreams become tangible, that you find whatever kind, shape, flavor (unless it’s the illegal kind, then I hope you don’t) of love you have been...
1 tag
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I am annoyed. When I am annoyed I speak in sharp, crisp sentences like biting into a crunchy ripe apple. Only not as sweet.
4 tags
Three Minutes Before a Chemistry Exam
Mud slush love Two missed calls and one unheard voicemail love Bamboozling, money guzzling bright metal blue machine love University boulevard and a millenia of ignorance steeped in academia Fairy walks through trees waking up from winter and a deep brown earth love Eyes drunk with sleep and lips tilted in a half smile with November peeking through the skin kind of love Chocolate...
5 tags
I love you for all the wrong reasons
Like - the satin whispers of a velvet night The caramel blush of your skin against mine Your sighs, the heat, the lipstick stains on your shirt.
I love you for all the words you keep from me your honeyed lies and that smile of yours that stops halfway to your eyes.
And I love you when you are not here but your warmth lingers I am content enough with the...
1 tag
4 tags
I want to write in a style that is totally not my own. That is foreign and unfamiliar so that by writing, I will find facets of myself that I don’t think I have.
I have been writing since I knew what it was to write. I wrote for no one except myself. It’s perhaps the only thing I can do or have any confidence in. So much of who I am is wrapped in what I write that I am unable to...
4 tags
Bare echoes. Turgid thoughts. One stainless steel glass full of the sea. One field of fragrant grass and the afternoon sun in the sky dotted with white fluffy clouds that look like hope. The wind in my hair and the heat on my skin and forever in my blood. Home is a taste on my tongue. Home is the place I go when I dream. My roads are not tar-sealed and my buses are an hour late. Home is the place...
2 tags
You were there, you know. That night. That day. You were watching as they did those things to me. I saw you watching them end me like it was an episode from that crappy television show you are addicted on.
I lack the words.
I. Is there even an I anymore? Am I still a person? Or the remains of one? What was left of me - you picked me up and took me home and left me on your window sill in a brown...
So I’m writing a book. No, wait, I think it would be more appropriate to say that I am preparing to write a book. That is…hmm…I’m in the middle of constructing a world in which my characters will exist. It’s fun. A lot of fun.
If I were a colour, I’d be somewhere between orange and red with just the lightest splash of emerald blue.
