It is a curse to feel deeply, they grieve

That words cut thinly with surgical precision

Every hint of betrayal a jackknife in the ribs

Fear manifesting from surrounding shadows

Burnt with overwhelming sorrow

To hear the shattering of one’s world into unfixable pieces.


Yet is it, I could not help but to question

The privilege that few have a chance of feeling

Pouring affection without reservation

Joy in the smallest of things

Whisper love into the deepest wells of sadness

To know the constant lull of the ocean like my own heartbeat.



How do you begin to live beyond a trauma

Something that comes to haunt you subtly just when you think you’re doing okay


How do you distinguish between real and not real

When ghosts are able to embody in the shape of humans


How do you remember that the world still exists

Since the day your sun fell out of the sky


How do you learn how to let go of fear

If it’s holding you by the neck instead?


Maybe we’re like pieces of cloth, some silk velvet and others, plain cotton. The bonds we build with people an act of sewing a little part of us on their cloths. Materials that thread as we draw closer together, love and commitment causing mesmerising embroidery to be woven.

(perhaps that’s the reason why when people walk out of our lives, a part of us is ripped and torn impossibly apart)


I understand now, what is it like to be loved by having something precious taken away. More than ever is the desire growing to fight the unfairness of things, yet it is not armour I am to pick up, but to lay down. This fist curled tight, pray for it to soften and unwind into graceful patience. There is much to learn still in this turbulence, where feelings and actions do not seem to comply, that distance is by far the most affectionate while closeness is hoped for. That in spite of apparent absence, how safe I remain.

Here, a confession to this space: how incredibly deep do I truly miss, yet this is where I choose to stay until our dark skies turn into pale grey.


I am irrefutably shy, in spite of possible bold first impressions and sporadic confessions of honesty, unwavering words and pinpoint clarity.

In a room filled with people gravitating in spaces not mine alone, it takes all of me to hold still and breathe. I am unable to understand how can one just co-exist in situations unplanned, in places new. Anchors I look for, to steady the tumultuous waves of my anxious heartbeat.

You are safe now, are the words whispered, is the hand that holds mine, are the eyes glancing quietly, is the folded origami crane before me.

And though I fear the impending darkness, I know that these things will keep me secure for a little longer.