Light Up


If a restaurant were to name something after you, what would it be? Describe it. (Bonus points if you give us a recipe!)

Photographers, artists, poets: show us DINNER.


“There she is!”

Whispers emanated from the small group of waitrons. She was totally unaware of this as she walked past them and smiled. They greeted her with enthusiastic waves and heart-warming smiles. Theresa, the newbie of the group, looked at her peers.

“What’s all the fuss about?” she asked, failing to understand the significance of this woman’s arrival. She clearly wasn’t just another patron, she’d figured. Her colleagues were far too excited about her. Most of the members of the group looked at her, surprised.

“That’s Megan Light,” Wanda, her mentor, informed her. “She’s a special part of this restaurant.”

“Why?” Theresa asked. She’d only been on the job for a couple of days. Stacey, a quirky blonde, pointed at a table in the corner.

“That’s where he proposed to her,” Stacey explained. “He had the ring come on a silver platter. It came as a ‘special dessert’. It was beautiful. She cried. He cried. She said yes. They received a standing ovation. They deserved it. It was just so beautiful.”

All the fuss because of the proposal? Theresa wondered. This restaurant was weirder than she’d thought.

“I’m guessing it’s their anniversary?” Theresa said. She tried her level best not to sound cynical. Wanda shook her head gravely. Melissa, a beautiful African girl, pointed at a table on the other side of the restaurant. It was a dimly lit area – reserved for intimate occasions –on the patron’s request, of course.

“He broke of the engagement there,” she spoke quietly. “We could feel the ominous vibes from the moment he walked in to meet with her. It was nothing dramatic. She cried quietly. They shared a sad farewell kiss and she left first. Before we could award him with “Loser of the Year”, we saw him cry as he watched her leave. We knew that there was more to his decision than he’d let on.”

Theresa felt her heart tighten. She didn’t like where the story was going. She could feel something painful coming along.

“What happened after that?” Theresa asked quietly. Her colleagues’ faces clouded over with sadness as they recalled the next event.

“They held his memorial dinner here,” Wanda spoke simply. Theresa’s eyes widened.


“Brain cancer,” Stacey wiped a tear away. “He passed on a couple of weeks after he broke off the engagement.”

Theresa felt emotion swell in her heart. She found it strange. She didn’t even know these people but there she was, feeling sorry for a woman she’d never met let alone spoken to ever. It puzzled her. She saw the understanding look on Melissa’s face.

“We felt the same way,” she replied. “We barely knew this couple but it honestly felt like we’d been part of their story. Her speech at the memorial dinner was beautiful. Loving.”

“When did it happen?” Theresa asked.

“Two years ago,” Wanda explained. “She comes here every week and sits at the table where he proposed to her. I asked her about that once.”

“What did she say?” Theresa asked, desperate to hear the answer.

“At first, she needed to be close to him,” Wanda said. “His proposal was the clearest memory she had of him at the time. As time went by, her answer changed. She said that this place had become a place of refuge for her. It still is. When she’s under pressure, she comes here. If she’s stuck, she comes here. When she’s going through something – good or bad – she’s here. She’s become a part of this place.”

Theresa nodded quietly.

“It’s her birthday today,” Melissa said.

“So we – everyone here – have done something for her,” Stacey was back to bouncing with excitement.

“What?” Theresa asked.

Suddenly, the lights went dim. Theresa found herself being shuffled to the kitchen entrance. She was confused. What was going on? Suddenly, the staff began to sing “Happy Birthday”. The chef held a giant cake as they walked towards Megan’s table. Tears were streaming down her glowing face. Theresa felt a lump in her throat.

Wanda stepped forward as the singing ended.

“We’ve decided to name a special dish in your honour,” Wanda smiled. One of the assistant chefs rushed forward and lifted the lid off of a plate. “The ‘Light Up’ Special Dessert.”

Megan’s eyes widened as she admired the apple crumble, covered in a layer of specially whipped cream and adorned with a number of glistening silver balls. With a flick of a lighter, two protruding chocolate-like sticks began to sparkle. The crowd watched in awe.

Megan was speechless as she looked at the wonderful staff. Theresa felt a couple of tears fall down her cheek. She didn’t care.

“Your fiancé, James, mentioned how you lit up his world,” Stacey gushed. “He said it as he left the restaurant the day you two er um –

“It’s okay to say that we broke up,” Megan smiled sadly. She had such a gentle voice, Theresa wondered.

“Well yes,” Stacey continued. “Your presence here has always lit us up too. And since it fits with your surname perfectly, we’ve decided to name this special dessert in your honour.”

Megan waited for the applause to die down before she began to speak.

“I think this dessert should be named in your honour just as much as it’s been named in mine,” she explained. “You have all served as bright, reassuring lights in my world. In my darkest times, I’d find peace here. Your wonderful smiles and beautiful personalities gave me hope when I’d lost all of mine. God bless you all.”

Theresa wasn’t surprised to find that she and Megan weren’t the only ones crying. She smiled through her tears.

She’d definitely been employed at the right place. How could she go wrong with all of these bright, shining lights around her?

It could never happen.

When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light, for your life, for your strength. Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason to give thanks, the fault lies in yourself.

Human Connections – Life and All Its Wonders


One man’s friend is another man’s lover the same way

One woman’s one night stand is her new receptionist’s brother.

Fibre glass cables flow through the world and connect

Man, woman, boy and girl

In ways we never really thought possible, did we?

The enemy of today could be an in-law of tomorrow.

That person’s neighbour could be our new source of sorrow because

They decided to borrow your sister for a lifetime of holy matrimony.

Life is short but relations are many.

Time goes by fast, but isn’t it scary how it takes a second to form a human bond

That could last an eternity?

To say a word that may join you and that being til death do you part?

In a flash of a second, connections break forth and join hearts of all people,

Some people, or just a few.

This very post just connected me with you.

You being a somebody who could be on the other side of the world, yet

There you are reading these ramblings of a young adult –

Who sometimes calls herself a girl.

Time flies by. Friendships grow stronger.

People grow weaker.

Relationships build as others break.

A new person comes, taking the place of

The one that walked away.

One leaves whilst another may return.

Bridges come up whilst others burn.

Words are said. Laughs shared.

Tears shed.

Connections all around us.

Connections everywhere we go.

Some broken by a simple “Goodbye”.

Others joined by a wonderful



Personality|| My Big Heart

It scares me.

The limits and bounds I’d go for the ones I love

Without even thinking of

If they’d do it for me too.

It really does scare me when I think of what

I’m willing to do for you

Provided I don’t get arrested or anything like that,

You know?

No you don’t.

I don’t expect you to.

See, I was born with a heart – a big one at that –

Maybe too big – way too big

But that’s that.

I was born with a heart to love and a heart to make sure

That even when I don’t want to smile, I will

Because someone will see that smile and they’ll feel good inside.

I’m not idealistic – well, maybe only a bit

But I’d rather go around smiling foolishly instead of trying to bury myself

In a muddy pit of self-pity and sorrow

That’ll probably be gone tomorrow.

I’d rather put my heart on my sleeve and have open arms for those

Who grieve and those who have lost their hope.

I want to be that one who throws the rope that they’ll grab onto and

Float towards civilization from that deep blue sea of

Confusion, sadness and uncertainty.

I love to make my loved ones smile, it means the world to me when

That happiness lasts for a very long while

Because while they smile I know that whatever was bringing them down

Won’t come back to revive that frown.

No not on my watch. Not whilst I’m around.

If I see you down on the ground, best believe that I will stretch my hand

And offer it to you so you can get up and stand instead of lie

On the ground like you’re meant to die because

Right now is not the time for such. The world needs you

Way too much!

Listen to me it’s true. Why do you think there’s only one version of you?

Your DNA? Your very make-up?

So I suggest you wake up and smell whatever it is you need to smell

Coffee would be a safe one and realize that there is no one like you

That is true and you need to accept it.

Accept it and do something with the originality that has been thrust upon

Your very being in this reality of life and all of its moments.

Live in every moment you’re graced with,

Love at every chance you get,

Go about wisely though so you don’t have that many regrets but even if you do

It’s okay, because we’re not perfect

We make mistakes

Just learn from them and pick another cake in this big bakery of

Life and all its wonders.

Wonder about the world you live in, go out and explore.

I need to. Because there’s a lot more to my love for people

That I know is true.

My problem may be that I love too hard and end up with bruises on the ground.

Well to me it’s worth it, don’t ask me why.

I’m still trying to figure it out.

So please know that if you come across me I will smile and I will

Try to impart whatever this big ball of warmth in me is, on you.

I will have arms open for a hug

Teeth ready to flash a smile

An ear willing to listen and words ready to polish you up ‘til you

Glisten with the truth about you – that you are an awesome human being and

I’ll tell you that’s what I’ve seen.

It scares me that I have so much hope for the human race.

It scares me that I believe in people – even when they don’t deserve it.

Maybe I’m silly. Maybe I’m naïve.

Well let me live.

A smile a day is better than none. A laugh an hour is way better than silence.

Love over violence.

Peace over war.

It may take time for that but I know that day will I come.

I believe it. I really do.

So as for me and my big heart we’ll continue to love.

Love hard and never stop.

Never stop.

Not for a second.

Not a single one.

–          Writtent to the song Fix You (Straight No Chaser Rendition)Image

Flip Flop|| Hidden Heroes

Flip Flop

An attempt at fictional blogging! Image

“Think of a topic or issue about which you’ve switched your opinion. Why the change?

Photographers, artists, poets: show us TRANSITION.”


She crinkled her nose. She hated the smell of airports. To be honest, she thought, she hated airports. Period. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the baggage carousel to start moving. She’d just jumped off of a thirteen hour flight – and it hadn’t been a pleasant one. Her mind flared as she thought of being surrounded by four wailing babies. The audio jack for her screen wasn’t working so she’d been left to fend off the agonizing wails of the infants. The bags under her eyes were visible enough to make her pass for being a blood-deprived vampire. She checked her watch. Where the hell were the bags? She barely noticed the arrival of a new human being. She heard his cheerful whistling before she saw him. The sound grated her ears. That was a result of her abominable mood.

“Looks like it’s a slow day today,” he chirped. She looked at him. He was talking to her.

“Yeah, looks like it,” she replied quietly. He nodded.

“So what’s your story?” he asked her. She looked at him, astounded. This guy had only been standing next to her for a couple of seconds and he was already asking her questions like “what’s your story”? That was a rather forward move. She blinked a couple of times.

“What do you mean?” she asked him.

“Exactly that,” he replied. “What’s your story? Why are you here?”

The nerve of this man, she thought. How dare he question her like he had a right to do so? She sighed.

“Flew in from South Africa,” she explained. “Student looking to take a break and find herself.”

He nodded.

“When’d you lose yourself?” he asked simply. She looked at him, lost for words.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked him, partially flabbergasted.

“When did you lose yourself?” he asked again. She felt a surge of annoyance travel through her system. She didn’t have time for this. She, for some reason though, felt a need to reply.

“A while back,” she replied. He nodded. He bent over and picked up a single backpack. She was taken aback; when did the carousel start moving? She wondered. He stood up straight and smiled at her.

“Well, I’m off,” he said. “Good luck finding yourself.”

He sauntered off before she could reply. She shook her head. What kind of guy was he? Asking her such questions like he knew her. She wrote him off as a typical twenty-something male who thought that he had the right to question everyone around him. She hauled her suitcase off of the carousel with the force of an angered warrior goddess. She checked that she had everything and headed for the airport entrance. She sighed. Let the journey begin.


Six months later.

She exited Starbucks with her Vanilla latte in one hand and her prized cinnamon-coated bun, safely packaged. She looked around. London mornings were the epitome of the term “hustle and bustle”. People everywhere with important things to do, important people to see, and important things to say. There she was just hoping she’d get back to her flat with her breakfast intact. She allowed the chilly breeze to tickle her cheek as she waited to cross the road. The traffic light was refusing to change but it didn’t bother. In her six months of “self-discovery” she’d learned the true meaning of patience – she learned the hard way. From blatantly manipulative cab drivers, to bartenders with very shaky hands, and all the way to the rather grumpy people she encountered on the daily – she’d learned. She’d learned a lot of lessons and she was glad.

“Look out!” she heard someone yell. She looked around but didn’t get a chance to see anything as she was tackled to the ground.

“What the…?” she looked up and gasped. She knew that face. It was him. The cocky guy from the airport. Her world came into better focus as she heard the commotion around her. She sat up slowly and looked around. Her mouth formed an oval shape as she saw a cab partially wrapped around the pole she’d been leaning on. The driver was standing above her, simultaneously asking her worried questions and apologizing. A small group of people surrounded her but she kept looking at “Airport Guy”. He was looking at her.

“You saved me,” she said. Her voice sound terribly weak. It must have been the shock. He grinned.

“Yeah, looks like I did,” he replied. “Fancy meeting you again like this.”

She nodded quietly as she looked at her spilled coffee and crushed cinnamon bun. She shuddered as she realized that had it not been for Airport Guy, she would’ve ended up in a far more severe state compared to her crushed breakfast. Airport Guy helped her up.

“How?” she asked. That’s the only thing that could leave her mouth.

“I saw you, recognized you and was on my way to greet you but then I saw the cab hurtling towards you and you were in a world of your own,” he explained. If she was white, she would’ve been as red as a tomato. “So I took a risk and rugby tackled you to the ground. I half expected you to deck me when you sat up.”

“Why?” she asked. Since when was she a woman of monosyllabic words? She wondered.

“Well, I didn’t think that you’d want to see my face,” he responded simply. “I pissed you off at the airport.”

She looked away sheepishly.

“Sorry,” she replied quietly. He tilted her chin and smiled.

“It’s alright,” he said. “I’m used to it. The whole judge a book by its cover thing.”

“Well, I’ve revoked my first review of the book,” she smiled. “This book is a piece worth keeping.”

He grinned.

“Well it looks like you lost your breakfast,” he observed the sad sight that lay a meter away from them. “How about I treat you to a proper breakfast?”

She looked at him suspiciously. He raised his hands in the air.

“We’re all friends here,” he said. “Besides, no one can turn down good bacon.”

“True,” she smiled.

“The joint may look a little disappointing,” he warned. “But trust me, your opinion will change once you’ve had a forkful of eggs, toast and bacon.”

She nodded happily.

“Well it wouldn’t be the first time my opinion has changed about something,” she added. They looked at the harried crowd that surrounded the accident. She shrugged.

“Let’s go,” she said. They walked away cheerfully.

“So the last time I checked,” he said, “You were on some journey of some sort? Rediscovering yourself?”

She laughed and nodded.

“Well, how’s it going? Have you found yourself yet?”

She paused thoughtfully.

“No,” she replied. “A wise someone and their smart aleck questions taught me something.”

“What’s that?” he asked, amused.

“I never lost myself,” she said simply. “Never have and I never will.”

“Any other gems you picked up?” he asked.

“Yep,” she responded. “One person’s annoyance is another person’s hero. I was the lucky bugger who got both.”

New||New Start|| New Decisions||

I Choose Life

I want to be allowed

To live and make mistakes

But learn from them so that next time there’s a fire

I run out and not in to find the source.

I want to breathe like it’s okay to embrace oxygen

Regardless of where it’s been or where it’s going.

I’d like to take a step or four without knowing

Where it’s headed or where it’s not.

I’d like to have faith and keep moving

Knowing that I’ll end up where I’m meant to be.

That is my reality.

I want to be able to walk about without minding the eyes

Of the crowd that sits and waits for me

To trip and fall

To hit and miss

To tell after a kiss

To jump up and collide with a bird and fall into the crowd and

Join the herd that’s called “Normal”.

I’m not normal.

What is that? Really, what?

Because I’ve been different and it felt a lot

Better than trying to be a replica of this person or that one

With the hair, eyes, and nose.

Everyone knows they’re special.

Not everyone has the courage to embrace it with a hug and a kiss and say

“Hey, Miss, thank you for educating me on the fact that

It’s okay to stray away from the wide path and take the road

Less travelled

Less embarked upon

Less known

More dangerous

More exciting

More invigorating and

More beneficial to the essential reason why I wake up every day.

To live! To praise the God that made me

The one I am today.

You can disagree with me, that’s okay.

But I will stick to the fact that as for me and everything I believe in,

We will not be moved by your perceptions and definitions.

We will not bow down to what you say is the way.

We will go left if you say “right” not because we think you’re wrong

But because there’s another version of “right” for me to find.

I’m talking about the freedom to live!

I’m talking about the right to step out and say

“This is me! This is my life!”

Mind my mind but I’m here for a purpose and it’s NOT

To fulfil your purpose for me.

Last time I checked, I owe my life to no human being.

But To the Most High and Almighty –  that’s for sure.

I’m talking about a will to live that’s so pure

So true

That applies to you!

Come on people get up and do something

Say something if you must!

Do away with the fear and learn to trust

In what you’re capable of doing because we all know

Our deepest fear isn’t that we’re inadequate,

You and I both know that’s not true.

Our deepest fear is that one day we could look at a forest and be like

“I planted those. That’s how that forest over there grew.”

We’ve been blessed with wisdom and adorned with hands to

Cultivate this wide land but instead we’d  rather

Bury our heads

Cover our eyes

Block our ears and

Clog our minds with

Someone else’s fallacy instead of our own reality.

We’d rather live in a fantasy in our brains instead of

Plant our own and allow the rain to wash away the nonsense

And feed the fruits of our labour.

We’d rather conform instead of incoroporate courage in our


Come on. Hey I said it. Come on!

We’re too special

Too awesome

Too amazing to be mindless peas in a pod.

I’d rather be a melon

Or an orange.

Because that would mean I’m seen.

I’m not just a stereotypical green but a bright colour

Displaying my power and my ability to

Express my personality with

My talents and gifts alike.

I want to live.

I want to be alive.

I choose to live.

I choose to be alive.

I Choose Life!

(Written to the song Breakeven – The Script – live performance)


Distance||Far From Him – A dedication to all those long-distance lovers out there.


The DownLow

Well today’s WordPress Daily Prompt encourages poets, artists, and photographers to display/depict “Distance”. I decided to express my inner poet – yes- and make this piece rather sentimental (see: mushy). But, as usual, this does not depict events in my real life. Some of you may think that there’s no need for me to emphasize this but trust me there is! – That’s a post for another day.


Distance From Him


Late night. Dark Sky.

Well, fairly dark as the stars puncture the black expanse

Above me.

No moon, sadly. Its presence would be fitting.

Fitting in with my current state of mind.

My puzzled state of mind?

What a state indeed.


Position plays an important role in the thoughts churning

From my mind and flowing into my trembling soul.

My here is not his here as he is far away in a land called


“There” being so far from my “here” it hurts to even think of

The technicalities and the reality of this loathsome thing

I call distance.


Distance and I are not friends.

Distance and I share no good thing whatsoever.

Distance keeps me from him.

Distance laughs at my pain of learning to live with

“I miss you” and the tonnes of

“I can’t wait to see you” messages we share to keep us sane.


This isn’t written to impress. This isn’t written for your approval.

This piece merely serves as a sign of the remnant of the upheaval

In my enduring heart as I count down the days, hours, minutes and seconds.

This here isn’t for me. It isn’t for a singular “you”.

It’s for all of those who know what I’m talking about when I say there is pain

And endless hope, love, and excitement behind every

“I wish you were here”

“I wish you were near”

“I love you, dear.”


I Choose To Be Free || Opposite Day

I Choose To Be Free || Opposite Day

I choose to be the butterfly, embracing freedom and escaping the shackles the hands – of most people – are subjected to endure.
I choose to be free. I choose to be me.
I choose to live.

Power, Pleasure, Pain

Write whatever you normally write about, and weave in a book quote, film quote, or song lyric that’s been sticking with you this week.


So, I’m the type of person who will hear a song and abuse it until the end of time. When I came across an acapella version of Seal’s Kiss From a Rose a couple of weeks ago…well…

A particular line in the song caught my attention –

“You became my power, my pleasure, my pain.”

Imagine that. Being someones power…pleasure…and pain. I don’t know if I’d go around walking on clouds if someone said that to me. I mean if you really look at that line. What does it mean to be someone’s power, pleasure and pain?

You’re the source of that person’s power. Their will to get up and do something revolves around you. You are their motivation. Their inspiration.

You’re that person’s source of pleasure. Their smiles, laughs, and warm fuzzy feelings and butterflies, are because of you.

But…you’re also the source of that person’s pain. They feel your tears. They feel your heartache. They feel your sadness. They also feel the pain you inflict upon them. They feel the fire in your angry words. They suffer as they feel the sharpness in your cutting words. The pain you cause them is real.

Sounds like a lot of pressure, huh?

My mind can’t help but wander to the side of the possessor. You know the person who’s made you their “power, pleasure and pain”.

So often we throw ourselves into a commitment – be it a friendship or an intimate relationship – and we give people the authority to control our state of being. We base our emotions, moods, and stability on the state of being of another person. Why? Because we love them. I have no problem with that. Who am I to judge? I’m guilty of doing such too…

The problem comes, though, when people make well…the wrong people their “power, pleasure, and pain”. Abusive people. Manipulative people. People who just don’t deserve your affection but you choose to give it to them anyway because you’re hooked.

Because you need them. Because…you love them.

I’ve seen enough of my friends and peers tear themselves apart – emotionally and mentally – because they’ve given their all to an individual who’s taken that affection and turned it into something so…sad.

It’s a cold world we live in huh?

But there’s hope…a glimmer of hope…

A fraction of these people realize their errors and withdraw from these parasitic relationships. They learn from their mistakes and manage to invest in people worth investing in.

The others?

Well…some never learn…some never leave…

But we keep praying that one day they’ll wake up and smell the coffee. And when they do…they’ll realize that the coffee they’re stuck with sucks. So they’ll throw it out and get new coffee. Better coffee.

Worthwhile coffee.

The Nomad In Me

If you could live a nomadic life, would you? Where would you go? How would you decide? What would life be like without a “home base”?

A nomadic life? Me? The freedom to wonder around wherever I please with no parent calling me every other day asking why I haven’t called? No one to answer to but myself? A life of choosing where I want to live – a cute B&B when I have the money or a comfortable-looking tree on the days where my finances are not with me? A life based on “Carpe Diem”? A life of waking up and I truly am the master of my fate? Captain of my destiny?

As a nomad, I’d definitely meet a new, interesting – this can go both ways – individual every day. A friendly, elderly woman who’d decided to give me a generous donation after seeing my weather-beaten clothes. A lost, drunken soul wandering around as much as me, searching for something to give his life meaning. A nomad like me, embracing life and all of its complexities, perplexities, and strangeness.

I’d enjoy the wandering around and discovering new things. Seeing the world for what it really is. But that has its ups and downs. I’d discover more beauty in nature – ever-shining sunlight; beautiful, cooling breezes; birds singing songs the world will never appreciate. I’d also experience the pain of sleeping outside during an endless thunderstorm; excruciating pain from the bites of different insects; wind so strong I don’t have to walk – I just blow away.

I’d love the freedom to be my own person. I’d understand the meaning of “freedom to choose”. I’d make my own rules. I’d live by my own standards. But I’d also encounter loneliness – severe loneliness. I’d have to put up with seeing happy families laughing over a good dinner in a humble restaurant. I’d have to live with being referred to as a “vagabond” even though I’m not. Forever being seen as a lowly individual just because I’d chosen not to live like my peers.


“Carpe Diem” might be fun but I think I value my family, friends, and bed much more. I’ll allow my nomadic nature to remain in my imagination. I think it’s safer there.

Much safer.


She Sits|| Actions of a Breaking Heart

Photographers, artists, poets: show us DISCOMFORT.”


*The DownLow*

So it looks like I’ve taken a poetic turn for these daily prompt posts. I’m not complaining. It’s about time I incorporated my poetry into my blog. Anywho, today’s prompt for poetry was “Discomfort”. The discomfort I’ve portrayed here is from a different angle – The discomfort of settling for less. I’ve seen enough of my loved ones settle for less and that’s what prompted this piece. The pain I feel.*

*Read. Receive. Respond*


She sits in the middle of her thoughts and wonders.

Wonders continue to fill her buzzling mind as she feels.

Feels the rhythm of her heart beating for something…


Uncertainty rouses fear from the depth of her being as she continues

To walk without seeing.

Such faith – she breathes – is not healthy when the one receiving it

Is as shaky as a foundation in Haiti.

Fear grips her heart as her thoughts lead her to a door.


The one she loves to see…the reason for a lot of her smiles.

Him being the one that holds her and makes her feel

Alright with the mad world she calls life.

Him being the one that sends her mind on a trip of contemplation and confusion,

When those arms unwind and reposition themselves so that they –

Push her away. Further and further from him and his


Reality is more than blurry for her when it comes to him.

She lives for the moments where he cries out “I need you” and dreads –

Yet expects – the distance that comes even when they’re two inches away

From each other.

She puts on a mask and knows he sees her real face through the plastic smile

She places when the cold air comes in and she freezes.

Words fill her mind yet they are so disconnected, from her mouth.

She cries for North but settles for the South because in her mind, it’s safer

To settle with the little she gets rather than jump out for so much more.

Because that so much more won’t come from the him she wants.

Though it’ll be from the Him she needs it won’t be right.

Her mind has forced her into that spot. Her heart won’t say a word as it

Quietly agrees and pumps the emotions and feelings for the

Ever-changing season she wants to embrace.

In his absence she’s sure that she will walk away and find stability.

In his presence he is her stability.

A stability so shaky it makes the world look broken.

She is not blind.

She is not deaf.

She knows.

But she chooses.

She chooses to settle for the ever-changing catastrophe brought to her.

She chooses the temporary peace and deludes herself into thinking

“This is it.”

Though “it” is nothing but another snippet of something transient and reliable as

A cloud over the tropical sea.

She yearns to settle with the unsettled though the world knows that none of that

Can happen.

None of that is true.

But she still hopes and dreams of those three words to be brought to life.

‘I love you’

Love who? Love how?

She sits and looks down as real life dances around her and laughs.

Laughs at her pain and each tear-dropping gain that falls down the drain of


She doesn’t feel alone. She is alone.

But she chose it.

She chose him.

A choice so broken, so messed up…

It almost makes sense.