Don’t Let Me Go

Posted: December 16, 2013 in Personal

If I trip in the rush of Life fast forwarding, will you stop to help me up?



Posted: December 11, 2013 in Personal

Today, I saw a girl. She looked really sad. She got on the bus with her boyfriend, and got off two stops later. She said goodbye to him when she got off. He didn’t even acknowledge her.

Today, I saw a little boy with curly hair. He smiled shyly at me before burying his face in his mother’s sweater.

Today, I spoke to a lady behind a counter. She had a lot of eyeliner on, and it made her blue eyes stand out. She’s already forgotten me.

Today, I sit at a table alone, finishing my dessert. There are people around me, so many people. I’m thinking about last weekend.

Today, I feel a lot of pain in my heart. But I also feel numb. Today is surreal, you see. Like I’m not even here.

Today, I feel like dying, but I know I won’t. I know I could never do that to the people who care about me. But how I wish I didn’t care.

Today, my body will barely obey me. It takes far too long to do things. I could barely clean the kitchen counter this morning. And I am a clean freak.

Today, I think of all the things I would like to do, but can’t. All the things I would like to clean. But I can’t. All the things I would like to say. But. I. Can’t.

Today, I would like to write you something. An explanation. An apology. But it’s difficult. And if I did, would you read it? Would you understand it?

Today, I’m remembering that moment I was frozen from the music, but how my body kept moving. Not even in time with the music. My fingers were snapping. Not even in time with the music. Bodies were suffocating. Lights were blinding. I lifted my arms when everyone else did, but I didn’t know why.

Today, I wonder if you can understand just how deeply consumed I was. It wasn’t my choice to be, and I tried to fight it. I did. I tried. But my body kept moving in that awkward jig and while my mind went on overdrive, my mouth refused to open and use the words I’d always been gifted with.

Happy feelings. That’s what I’d wanted.

I couldn’t breathe.

You told me I was annoying you. I felt the pain stab at my heart. But I could do nothing. Only stand there frozen, nodding my head and saying, “Okay.”



Okay to everything. Yes.

Yes. Yes, I understand. No, I don’t know what I want. Okay.  I’m sorry.


Today, I remember the look on your face, the anger in your eyes. My heart went cold, so cold.

Today, I think about how selfish we all really are. And I am. I am selfish. I am. So are you. But we give, sometimes. Only because some things are unachievable by ourselves, and we need people to help us. And people will only help someone who’s willing to help them.

Today, I wonder if I’m making any sense.

I just want to sleep everything away.


Posted: November 7, 2013 in Fiction

Curled up in one corner of the couch, clutching the warm, pink blanket.

Zoning out.

But intensely aware that so many things are happening to the body.

Heart’s racing in leaps and bounds.


Every single blink changes the fabric of reality a little bit more.

The warm light in the kitchen, fuzzing over.

Hand waving side to side, leaving trails. Like dragging it through a body of light gold and orange dust.

So many things to be done.

Can’t. Move.

Need to pee.

Navigate to Toilet unsteadily.

Can’t feel liquids. Everything feels like liquid. Liquid. Liquid’s a funny word.  Lick-weeeed. Liquid.

The paint on the walls. All those layers. Uneven. Patches here and there. How come they weren’t noticeable before? Could’ve done a better job.

Wipe. Flush. Turn tap on. More liquid.


Face; so unfamiliar. Could swear the light is flickering. Each flicker highlights every flaw.

So ugly. But so beautiful, too.

It just is.

And body is just a vessel.  A hardworking vessel. Does so much, every day. Thank you, body. All the things it can do. Like, dance.

Dancing in the toilet. Is that weird? Perhaps. But no one is judging. So listen to the music that’s coming from the speakers in the living room. And. Dance.

Okay, maybe it is a litte weird. Exit Toilet. Back to Living Room.

Actually, it’s been hours. Days? No, hours. So, pay a visit to Bedroom, so it won’t feel lonely.

Open the door.




Jumps out at you.

How do humans live in such filth? Disgusting.

Must. Clean.

Fold fresh laundry. Put away. Desk. Reorder. Everything in place. Neat. Bits of paper, dust, things on the floor. Sweep it all up.

Trying to do all this.


But where to start? And where to stop? So many things to clean.




But only on the inside.


Get the fuck out!


“You alright?”

No! Just fucking go already!



Silence. Alone now.

Get up. Do something. Get up. Get up now.

Walk into Kitchen. Open cupboards. Close. Open drawers. Close. Open again.

Pick up knife.

Everything is numb. What would it feel like?

Just try it.

Just a little bit.





Scar Me Again

Posted: September 15, 2013 in Fiction

How did it get to this?

You wonder distantly, staring at the ceiling. You vaguely realise that his tongue is sensually stroking you.

It’s pleasant. Your body responds, but your mind.

Your mind is approximately 3,955 miles away.

A thud. Your knee on the wall. It barely registers.

Also, the fact that he’s scooping you around with his arm so that he’s now lying under you. The crackling of a condom package, and the familiar smell of lubricated rubber.

He’s big.

The pain of him inside you, more than anything, is what yanks you back to the here and now.

Warmth. Flesh. Silence in between grunts. You’re under him. His scent. So unfamiliar.


Gasps torn out from your body by the physical act.


Silent, unnoticeable tears.

He stops.

“Are you okay?”

“Don’t stop.”

He continues thrusting.

Until your body is racked with sobs.

He rolls off you. He says nothing.

You lie there, facing the wall. He says nothing.

His fingers run along your back gently, bringing goose bumps and making you feel better and worse at the same time. He says nothing.

He says nothing, and you’re glad he doesn’t.

You don’t want to hear his voice. After all, you don’t need another reminder that the man in your bed right now isn’t the man who should be.


What else is there to pursue in a world such as this where human angst seems so petty and irrelevant?

Why stay when you can go forward into the never ending ‘more-ness’ of the beautiful infinite?

This vessel of mine, this body – why subject it to the judgement of society and the standards of beauty that have come about when really, it doesn’t matter?

At this point, sometimes I feel like love is the only thing that keeps me going.

Love from my family, my friends, my boyfriend. And this strong, almost violent need to keep loving them.

*Photo found on*

Image  —  Posted: September 12, 2013 in Personal
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