Remember, every time you say her name

The minutes pass by slower

My heart erupts and crashes in a million pieces

But you told me, you need not worry, my love

The dancing ghost remains in the past

What it whispers cannot be heard no more



Purple wooden chairs

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m leaving.”

“You can’t do that. Not like that. Not like this.”

He gripped my hand so tight I lost control. The glass shattered into pieces as I made my way.

“If you leave right now…..if you leave, I swear.. I swear, you can’t come back!!” he screamed.

“Then good! All these years I wanted you to say that to me! Right in front of my goddamn face! And finally, you said it.”

“Wait.. you know I don’t mean that…” he slowly made his way to the doorstep, where I was clenching my fist, tears falling, nothing ever changed in this world, except for these tears.

The silence was deafening and the walls grew thin. It was like our breaths were concealed into one giant bubble vacuum. I kept my mouth shut, of course.

I sat down in one of the purple wooden chairs we used to make fun of in the local market, but two weeks later he bought it home.

I sigh. “How did we even get here? Last year, things were wonderful. Everything was as it should be. And this? this fight that we’re having? We could’ve gone out to eat dessert wasting time like this. What happened?” I puzzle myself trying to answer these riddles.

It was the longest one minute of my life.

“I don’t know. Life….life happened. I know I can’t turn back time. But this is it. This is our life. And struggle is part of life. I know you know that. Maybe it’s just not…”

“No… no that’s not it. Everyday we go to work, eat lunch, get dinner and go home everyday for the past year. You may think this is fine, but it isn’t. At least not for me…”

“So what do you want? Do you want fancy dinners? Do you want out of town adventures every weekend? Do you want piggyback rides and red cowboy boots? Is that it? Do you want over the top surprises every god damn night?! Do you want me to get you a blue french horn or an entire…”

“No!! No! I want real! I want real. I want to know how you feel about that poor old man begging in the streets while we’re eating cheap noodles. I want to know what you dreamed of the night your grandma died. I want to know how angry you felt at that cashier by the store because somebody swore at her! I want real. I want real. I want to know how your day went, every detail, every rant, every single one, even the shittiest ones. I don’t want fancy dinners or romantic adventures. I want real. I choose real. Any day.”

……I shut the door behind me that night.


The sound the shoes make

How do you begin to explain loneliness?
Unblinking eyes, widened
Unwavering, reckless
How did the world, in all its abundance of human beings, can make a person feel alone?

The rat-tat-tat of the commoners, living each day on the verge of madness
I listen to the sound their shoes make
And it made me think
“How did I get here?” I ignore my heart’s plea
And sing along to the sound their shoes make

How tragic it is to live in a world where a 12 inch computer screen listens better
Than an ear, a shoulder, an arm, a hand

More social media profiles, less interests
More friends, less conversation
More confrontations, less compromise
More flings, less relationships
More desire, less intimacy

How do you begin to explain loneliness?

It’s when you feel your heart burst
Not because you split yourself open in front of a hundred crowds
Not because you rip yourself in half because the other half says stay and the other says go
But because your skin is not your skin anymore
And the air you breathe isn’t yours
That’s how you know

And I walk home
Far and away
Listening to the sounds the shoes make

The way the flames dissipate

Like a soft burning candle in the dark
I flicker
A mere whisper, a spark
Wide, wild
Tempestuous, turbulent
On a stormy Friday night,
I calm you with a gentle hush
No rush
Traces of my fingertips on your face
Crooked, like teeth
A jolt of panic engulfs
Beware the walls
They whisper words of prayer and plea
How? Where? Why? You?
I burn and burn and burn
Crimson, scarlet, bloody
Soon the flames waver
Turning into ashes and dust
As if no one heard the echoes
Swish and whoosh
Washing off
The stain of the dirty pavement
Living ghosts that haunt
A parallel shadow that appears in your dreams

No one could ever forget
The night the wind died
As it lays still
Beware the wind
It knows

the one you called weak

buzzing around my fingers
twelve midnight
fucking loser
you shitty sight
not supposed to judge
but hell
you are
the King

you walk like a man
you think like a man
but you talk like a sissy
no wonder —
you may end up rich, dude
but you will be so lonely
and sad
you may end up strong as hell
but inside you are weak
you don’t understand what love is
you got hurt – but sir,
you don’t get to play with myfeelings
not to be toyed with
you may end up with friends,
but they will despise you
too sarcastic
too bullshitty
too much

and I will be here
sitting by the fireplace
sipping red wine
smiling at the flames
sleeping soundly at the end of the night
you messed up
you fucked up

the one you called weak

To & from

I lay still

As I wrestle with my thoughts

At three am

I was just wondering

If I made you up

Like an apparition, a half-thought, a semi-permeable idea

But I know I didn’t

Because if you were

It would hurt less

Sting less

Burn less

But I was awake

From start to finish

From beginning to end

From sparks to ashes

I am awake

From the rampage

From the delight

From the damage

From the excitement

From the madness

From the thrill

From the ruin

To here


From me

To you


No flame burns forever


You had your sleepy, sad eyes

I had my restless hands


You had your games and riddles

I had my books and coffee


You had your “logical” arguments

I had my “practical” banters


You had your shitty past

I had my clueless present


You had your pride

I had my neediness


You had me

You had me

You had me


I had enough.