The Answer

She strangled herself with a rope spun of her own words. Drawing the noose tighter around her neck, she strained her voice hoping to explain how she felt. “I just n-n-need,” she choked, her voice cracked and her eyes immeditaly diverted from his face. “Um,” she continued, “a r-reason to hope, to feel purpose, maybe some clarity.” In that moment, everything begun to trickle out of her, like oozes of dark crude blood but instead nothing at all came out – such an unpleasant sight. The way his face begun to form, she knew she’d made the worst decision by speaking too soon – speaking at all. That’s when something left her. Leaving behind only an emptiness. Silence filled her mind, the rope of words loosened around her neck, she took it all back while he stared right through her.

Sometimes no answer, is an answer.


We can’t control time, fate or the way people think, act or respond. We can only control our behavior – our mental standing – the way we operate and react. 

At some point in our lives, we feel unstable; mentally, physically or emotionally. It’s due to this why we react in certain ways. If we are angry, we may express this feeling through rage. If we are loving, we may express this through words or actions. So on, so forth. 

Everything in our lives has limitations. Our lives itself is the epitome of a limit because we were born to eventually die and how we die is out of our control. If its meant to be, it will be. 

Relationships tend to be limited. All of which are temporary, until permanent measures. Which in today’s society, ‘permanent’ is used very loosely. Ex. For marriage, a permanent commitment, there is an option for divorce. 

So what do we really have control over? Ourselves? Yes, to a extent. We can control what and who we like or respond to, even though in some countries people are forced to marry. We can control how and what we do, even though we are bound by the law’s restrictions to do only things according to society’s rules. 

Again, I ask, what do we have control over? The question itself is completely debatable but the only solution I’ve came up with seems to have no real power at all. Our thoughts. Only we can control how we think, what we think about, when we think and even question why we think about certain things. Limitless. 

Now explain to me this, how powerful is a thought? The same thought that can be formed into an opinion, placed into a box where people can then CHOOSE to pick from, is still limited to any reaction or response. We are bound by the conflictions of this world, or are some just afraid to step over boundaries.


Just before I could say I love him, he tells me, “it’s okay.” Without my lips moving, he tells me, “if you want to go. Everyone wants you to stay. I want you to stay more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.” His voice cracks with emotion. He stops, clears his throat, takes a breath, and continues. “But that’s what I want and I could see why it might not be what you want. So I just wanted to tell you that I understand if you go. It’s okay if you have to leave us. It’s okay if you want to stop fighting.”

So I stayed, not because of him or them but because every sign said, ‘It’s not time to leave yet’.


You rest your hand on my heart, feeling my chest rise and fall to the acoustic rhythm surrounding us. We don’t speak, just listen. The rain patterning its own beat, sending chills down my spine and causing my crooked teeth to peep through the crease of my lips. It’s warm in your room but when the wind whistles and blows fall air inside, my body instantly begins to cool; the perfect mixture of heaven and hell. It all was; the perfect mixture I mean. Being here smothered into you as 0ur bodys embrace the butterflies we produced, was the best gift God had ever given to me; so I thanked Him. Your hand teases my skin, kind of the way a feather would tickle a child, a blissful feeling. We needed this, the escape. No words could begin to fathom how much you mean to me. No amount of drugs could bring me to the high you do so effortlessly. A flash of light surfaces on your face as God strikes the skies with His fury. Sending loud crackles, sounding like whips being slashed against evildoers, breaking through the clouds. “Sleep,” you suggested, breaking our realm of silence. “I’m right here, not going anywhere,” but my eyes were closed long before you spoke. In my mind, images of us begin drowning my thoughts. My body begins to numb and your touch becomes the wind against my skin. My eyes shoot open, like an arrow blazing on fire towards a target, to find you gone. Emptiness pulsating through my veins and my soul clenches with ache from the lost of her mate. Esperanza Spalding, singing the way she does, consumes me whole while the rain pats…pats…pats. I close my eyes, there to find you again, you whisper those words again, “I’m right here, not going anywhere.”




“Rest in Heaven,” I whisper to you, as I drift asleep.

Demon Spun

She begun on a search for a cure, deemed as non-existent, resulting only in the brutal rape of her innocence. As natural as the circle of life, the reality of things seemed to sink in slowly. She found herself revisiting the sight where her blood, she watched, leaked rapidly out of self-inflicted wounds. Causing substantial amounts of damage; probing her core leading to her soul and giving birth to a demon. One who craved pain like ants did sugar; dragging her down deep. Each day she’d celebrate the way pain became her oxygen; her only connection to reality. Understand, she isn’t lost in darkest; loved ones see her as the sun through their rain. Instead, she was simply broken, troubled at heart and in mind. The type of broken that wore masks and answered to names that demean her but the sadomasochistic within her, merely felt humbled. The true reality, she was her own cure. She just preferred to bleed because blood, she believed, was her only way to remember how he broke her. It was what drove her to mastering how never to allow another man to break her again.

Borrowed Words

I asked you to tell me about her and you asked me what I wanted to know and that’s when I knew you didn’t really love her. Because if you loved her then you would’ve told me about how her eyes light up when she laughs and she bites her lip when she’s sad. You would’ve told me about the way her teeth remind you of those glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck on your ceiling when you were little and the way her voice wraps around your bones and keeps you from shaking. You would’ve told me about the tips of her fingers and the way sunshine pours from her mouth. You would’ve told me about how she even looks pretty when she cries and the way she hides behind her hair. You would’ve told me about the way you want to live inside her ribcage and fall asleep in the crook of her neck. You would’ve told me that she tastes like the entire galaxy and she speaks in poetry. You would’ve told me that the sound of her breath while she sleeps is your new favorite song. You would’ve told me about how she’s in your blood and the way she’s got so much love in her veins that if you cut her open, you swear flowers would grow from inside of her. You would’ve told me about the way you love her, like I love you.

Toxic Love

I sent it.

The six words that has my heart racing faster than a laced spliff.

My breathing jagged.
My stomach cramping with anxiety.
You’ll probably take a few hours to respond. Probably won’t respond at all. Normal things, the new you does. Your choice. Guess its better that way anyway.
Eight months and counting; half a year and two months is how long you’ve forced me to be without you – for you.
I’m not worried. More like afraid to face reality. Afraid to let go of hope. Afraid to face the truth. Afraid to face my fears of losing you…all over again.
You’ll never get it. Won’t understand that you were those things for me; hope, dreams, love, my inspiration. All the things I am for myself but together we were a team.
I know I’m the catch, therefore, I can’t chase you but truth is, I know I’ve already lost you. Rather you’ve changed so much, you’ve lost yourself and that’s what this search is really about.
You’ve let go of me and now everyone I meet I see some part of you and I hate them. Fearing them because another four years will go past and they’ll leave me like it’s nothing, only to fall in love with themselves while I try to fix what drove them away.
And I’ll sit at a distance, watching them live…no need to call me, text me or miss me because apparently, my love is toxic.

Once Upon a Time…

I sat in my chair at work and cried today. Silently allowing the tears to spring from my, once dry, eyes. Guess all these emotions started last night; after your phone went to voicemail for the second time. I realized how empty your promise was to me.

Four years.

1523 days
131,587,200 seconds
2,193,120 minutes
36,552 hours
1523 days

Ever thought to calculate how much time we’ve shared?

If that’s not sad enough, I broke down three times today. Once, when I sent a message blaming myself but not being able to blame you for leaving me. Second, having to take a break because you stopped texting me. Third, after ranting on to someone about how you made me an empty promise; one in which I can’t complain about because it’s either this or nothing at all. Or so you’ve said to threaten me…

Yes, I’m in my feelings.

Four years of knowing him, loving him, giving him all that I have to give, only for him to leave me to focus on him and his problems. To sort out his life and because he never has much problems or concerns, he never needs to talk to me about anything. Sounds fair, right?

Thought you we’re doing that with me, as a team. Now when I text you, even on your days off, you leave me hanging in the middle of conversations….but you’re here for me, right?

Soon this all won’t matter. I won’t care about you or this or remember that this ever existed. I won’t walk past a park and remember you watching me touch the skies on the swings. Won’t listen to a song and your face won’t appear. I won’t feel anything.

What hurts the most, the worst torment of it all is, I’d still try and by try, I mean I’d give my all…all over again.

Once upon a time, there was a sweet loving girl…whose hate never stopped beating.

Captain Save Them

I had a dream that I was talking someone out of killing someone but instead, he shot himself in front of me. I woke up in tears and had to pray because somewhere in the world, at that exact moment, someone lost their life and I couldn’t save them.

Dear God

God, first I want to thank you. You’ve kept me close even after I’ve pushed so far away.

I’ve said this list to you time and time again, even written it down. Guess now I just want to add a few things.

My desires in a man:

First God, he has to love YOU more than he will love me but still put me above all that should come after.

His skin, be it smooth chocolate, hazel brown or vinalla, let it be clear from any markings that may not be satisfying to you.

His eyes, let them shine so bright with colors that may pass down to our children; hazel brown, green, blue or even gray. I just ask that he can see perfectly and his eyes be fixated on only me.

His body, let him be built like a warrior. A solider from the land of freedom; fighting for justice and peace. Fighting for love and everlasting happiness. Fighting to forever please me as I will forever please him.

His mind, allow him to think clearly. To pray to you before making irrational decisions. To come to me before fighting alone but to make decisions as the head of the household.

His heart, let it be as pure as a troubled heart can be. I know no man on this earth is perfect, so I pray for the closest thing to it. That he be perfect for me and only me.

God, I just pray that all of which you have in-store for me come to past. You know my pain, you’ve heard my cry and you’ve said in due time. Lord, I pray that you find the perfect fit for me. One that will do anything to see me smile or that will move mountains to heal my pain. So that I may be his rib, his heart will beat rapidly at the sight of me, his eyes is all I will ever need to see and his mind will be stayed on you.

I’ve given to you my hearts desires – the main ingredients – I will now wait as you stir the pot and add all the seasonings. Before all is said and done, I thank you Lord for he is amazing.