The word, if it remains lodged in the throat, a bitter weight in the chest, festering on the tongue, knotted in the stomach, dried out in the eyes, and buried beneath the dust of time, becomes a relentless ache in the yesterdays. It gnaws at the soul, a haunting specter of unspoken pain. Such a word demands the urgency of release and the bravery of farewell. Without this essential courage, it morphs into a malaise, a beguiling prison where miracles fall numb and lifeless. The unspoken word, untreated, grows roots of sorrow and branches of regret, trapping the spirit in … Continue reading Word

Today, I woke up to the chill on my face. I noticed how smooth my hair has become, the softness and coziness of the bed wrapping around me. The sheets with the blue duvet, swimming in a light green room. I stretched, feeling my muscles lengthen. The day outside is cold but gorgeous. I see the sun, gently embracing each leaf, people moving, checking off their lists and feeling accomplished. I went to the kitchen and made some coffee for breakfast. I’m noticing the small things—the brightness of the clouds, the welcome of the outdoors. I’m just taking these moments … Continue reading October 23, 2014.

Life, in all its messy glory, unfolds far from the polished perfection of sitcoms. It is not neatly scripted or well-rehearsed. Relationships demand patience, communication, and unyielding effort; they don’t miraculously resolve in the span of twenty-two minutes. Bills accumulate, waiting for the hard-earned money you sweat for. Bad things happen—loss, heartbreak, disappointment—and none of us are immune. Sitcoms offer an illusion, a comforting fantasy of how we wish life could be, where problems are simple and solutions are swift. In reality, we don’t always experience that defining character arc, emerging better and brighter. Sometimes, we’re left grappling with our … Continue reading Messy

I used to love everyone. Absolutely everyone. It was an all-consuming, private intensity, and my heart shattered each time I witnessed someone slowly destroy themselves. They would welcome sadness without a fight, making choices that they knew would hurt them just to feel alive. I found everyone so endearing, with their humanity spilling out in every gesture. As we all aged, my heightened perception became a curse. I gave myself away to everyone I met, believing they needed my heart more than I did. Now, no one would understand that. They probably think I’ve always been cold and distant, incapable … Continue reading Hollowed-out Version

“The crowd outside continued shouting furiously, but suddenly their cries became lamentations and tears, I’m blind, I’m blind, they were all saying and asking, Where is the door, there was a door here and now it’s gone.” In this haunting moment from Saramago, we are confronted with a profound truth: our suffering is an intrinsic part of our existence, a vicious cycle that we both inflict and endure. If there is a god, then at least there is someone other than humanity to blame for our unspeakable suffering—a suffering we experience precisely because we impose it on ourselves and others. … Continue reading Hopeless

As I walk the sacred path of my tribal heritage, I am deeply connected to the wise gardeners of the past. These benevolent souls nurtured the seeds of wisdom and knowledge, guiding me through life’s labyrinth. They embraced me amidst the small and illiterate, the poor and patched up, seeing beyond the surface to recognize the potential within me. With their guidance, I received the invaluable gift of humility, learning countless life lessons. They showed me that true greatness lies not in wealth or status, but in the ability to empathize and uplift others. They taught me the importance of … Continue reading Gardeners

I have bled pages from my soul, crafting lines truer than emotions dare to admit, and penning longings so profound that my tongue falters at their weight. The poet’s words are not mere inked letters on parchment; they are the breath, the life, and the very essence of existence. To write is to live, and without this sacred act, my soul would wither. If every pencil and tablet were to vanish from the earth, I would turn to nature as my journal and humanity as my blank page. I would inscribe songs upon every heart, etching poems with each sunrise … Continue reading Each Word, Each Verse

We shall grow together, intertwined, as your roots connect with mine, creating a foundation of unbreakable strength. Pour into me and become my chlorophyll, nourishing my soul so that when the light of truth shines upon us, the grass on this side of love grows ever greener. Together, we flourish, radiant and eternal. In this garden of our making, we find solace in each other’s presence, our leaves rustling with the whispers of tender moments shared. The sunlight filters through our intertwined branches, casting dappled shadows that dance upon the ground, a testament to the harmony we have cultivated. Every … Continue reading Growing together

Within every writer, there exists a living womb, nurturing the seeds of creativity. It cradles, like a cherished child, the poem that yearns to be born, the song that must be sung and woven into the fabric of the world. This fertile space within us pulses with life, each heartbeat echoing the rhythm of words yet to be written, melodies yet to be heard. The writer’s soul becomes a vessel, carrying the weight of unwritten verses and unsung harmonies, destined to be shared with the universe. In this sacred act of creation, we find our truest purpose, giving voice to … Continue reading Germinating …