i think i love you somewhere in that bubble of time when a word leaves my lips and yours begins, a smile already hanging by the window. somewhere, through translucent blinds your fears and beliefs do a pas de deux twin lovers feeding the other fuzzy, blurry — no. in your tendency to squirm, i think… Continue reading *whispers
Fiction is helplessly entangled with truth of some kind. Much in the same way that Orson Scott Card believes the reader takes in the fictitious material and constructs something in his mind such that he connects with it, identifies with it. And in that sense, fiction becomes reality for everyone, although everyone has different realities.… Continue reading When Love Arrived.
These eyes are haunting. I can’t bear to look at them in the mirror. There’s something… off, about them.They’re like bottomless wells, and those who venture too close run the risk of falling in, never to find a way out. All the light that tries to illuminate its depths inevitably get sucked into its thick,… Continue reading Metaphors for Amor.
no longer do i startle at the sight of some stranger who stole your jawline, your black hair, and how you rub your nose and sigh when a thought takes form. afterall you are not so different – just the outline that makes them familiar, is all. now i smile at your disappearing form now… Continue reading stranger.
I have spent, and am still spending, quite a bit of time processing my molestation on 30 November 2016. I use “my” to convey ownership. A sense of taking responsibility for what has happened, much like the way one would lay out enough food and water for their pet. A more cynical analogy would be that of being… Continue reading Confidence | Arrogance
I can hold space while you see what your heart has to say about me There’s no dotted line to sign away your freedom I’ll acknowledge you for what you do to keep strong I’ll always get behind you, don’t get me wrong I don’t ask for much, just be honest with me I don’t… Continue reading ;
Titles are a hassle. It’s so difficult trying to come up with something that would adequately encompass whatever I’m going to write. Especially for this post – calling it childhood isn’t exactly right because there are so many things that still define me to this day. Calling it the present seems to suggest that this is… Continue reading Chapter 1, Part 1: Introduction + Confusion = Introducsion