To go

Before you go
Will you tell all
As was
Before you go
Will you keep close
As near
One last touch
Couldn’t we just
Stay forever.


In the end

The hardest to love
Is not the weak
Nor the strong
Nor the timid
Nor the wrong
The hardest to love
Is the one
Who does not believe
To be deserving
As heartbroken, shattered
The pieces scattered
Eyes closed
As if nothing matters
The hardest to love
Because lost
And despaired
Because left is no one
But one self

A sunny disaster

Some mornings, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and sigh deeply. I cast a quick glance at the reflection and a million thoughts go through my head. At work I wonder how my colleagues can stand looking at me. I really should pull myself together. If not for myself, then at least for them. For the sake of the others, I should care more. I tell myself that every day. I try to make an effort. But the sleepless nights are just becoming longer, they keep on accumulating, and I’ve become an expert at telling what time it is based on the moonlight. Dawn comes earlier nowadays. I wonder if it’s okay to wear sunglasses inside?

A calendar

It was a day that she claims to recall vaguely. A day where the world had come apart and the skies had opened with torrential rain to grieve. It was a day that she had tried hard to forget, to categorize at the far back, in the darkest corner of her head. A day where the universe was against her and all of nature’s forces seemed to agree. It was a day where she had decided, then and there, to give up. And the only thing that her memory had registered was the precise feeling of failure and hopelessness. And of course, the few notes in her calendar: to give up on love.


Maybe we’re used to things going fast
The impression of rushed
All in two seconds past
It’s yesterday’s news already tomorrow
Today never comes
As it’s already been
And there we stand
Trying to define
Something which has merely existed
A few moments
Easy come
Easy go
If we’re willing to work for it
Maybe it will last
But that takes time
And darling
Isn’t it quite sad
We’re all in a hurry
To find something
We might never have.