If only I could capture the tones of the break of dawn over the horizon, the steady glow of a series of gray, ribbons of orange and red, blue and strips of white, the peaceful harmony that changes gradually with grace and the Crescent with its faithful companions that never give up shinning. Then there is the freshness in the morning air, the gentle waves that push the shores, the melody of the early birds and finally the heart that dances with them.
Hurt or be hurt, you can never skip that part.
Love or be loved, it is always a choice of the heart.
Love and distance
They usually increase
Such paradox nonetheless.
He touches my heart
So close, so familiar, so warm
The bloom is always the best
The days that follow
Increased by distance
His grip loosens
The cold takes over
Even the warmest breeze freezes
Then next comes pretence
A way to not hurt and be hurt
All that is already played out in the mind
Caused by fear
To avoid what might be
A smile so fake
It becomes real
Unable to untie the knot
Intentions not meant to harm
Turns bad without intending
The end is already known from the start
The lesson was learnt but not remembered
It is always a hard fall
Plunging into a pool of blood
With tears shed and not wiped
Leaving marks which forms memories
Unable to wake up and get up
It is only after a while
You dust yourself off of the bloodshed
Pull yourself up just to fall again
All over again
How do you live when you have been imposed all sorts of limitations in your life. Your freedom, your expression, your feelings and your time. You will get so fed up and so bored. What difference does it make between you and a robot?
Time is never a good excuse, but it is always the excuse.
I am hated, because I am loved.
The smile, not noticed
The smile, forgotten
The smile, no longer appreciated
The smile, taken for granted
The smile, gone
Would you sing for me
And light my heart up once again
I can’t remember
The strength that brings tomorrow
It must have been your smile
Your smile that I love the most
We’re both hurt souls
Hurting one another
We grow pricks for defence
To protect the heart
But still come out scarred
The more you give, the more you’ll get back.
When there’s nothing more to know, there’s nothing left to be said.
I regret the time that I did not tell you what I should
I wish I hadn’t hesitated to tell you how I feel
When the moment is passed, it will not return
I am bad with words
I am slow with my thoughts
Your text to me every night has become my normal
I feel unsettled and jumpy every time I do not get a reply from you
All the used to bes are now blurry memories
They are all that I wish would remain
I don’t want to be something or someone you will have to deal with
I want things to be simple
But they often turn out complicated
Once trapped, it is hard to untangle
I want to talk to you so very much
But the words that came out are not the ones that I want to tell you
I’m losing myself once again
I care too much
These are the things I wanted to tell you
It glows when it is talked about.
It shines its brightest when it is loved.
It requires a constant renewal of warmth.
It is all too late when it turns cold, defensive and vicious.
Being acknowledged is one of the best feelings
She enters her favourite room in his white button-down long sleeve shirt, over-sized on her, his familiar scent
surrounds her. With the curtains drawn, the sunshine pours in and flooded the room with its yellow glow.
She takes her time picking out a book by the mahogany bookshelf that towers over her. She finally settles for
a paperback fiction about love and life. She lets down her hair that drapes the middle of her back. She then
twirls until she falls onto the fluffy sofa by the window. With pillows propped beneath her head, she hugs another to
her chest and begins to be absorbed in it in the warmth of the sunlight.
I want to invoke all kinds of senses into your mind with my writing
So strong that you can picture the reality and imagination of the ever-changing scenery
So strong that you can hear a droplet that forms ripples in an ocean of words
So strong that you can smell the aroma of cornflowers that attracts the nectar collectors
So strong that you can taste the sweetness of a smile and the sourness of a humour
And so strong that you can feel the warmth of a hug and the chill of silence
Be it beautiful or ugly
Whether you hate it or love it
This is what I want you to experience.
If one cannot give fully, it is better not to give at all.
We all think what we want to protect the most is our heart, in truth it is our reputation.
Reputation – A form of social status governed or defined by the society
You braid her hair on one side. Feeling the soft cotton, she puts on a simple red halter neck dress with white little daisies print. She gathers the tools, takes your hand and pulls you to the door. The ocean breeze tugs and tousles her hair. She inhales and points to the horizon of a mixture of red, yellow and orange glow where the sun will sleep. She takes off ahead and you catch up right behind. She puts a seashell to her ear and shares the tune with you. She finds a starfish holds it in her hands. She admires it in awe, with pure curiosity and innocence. You smile and admire her innocence. Everything else slows down and fades away. She looks up at you and says “Mommie, let’s come again tomorrow!”