She pushes herself to the corner.

She crouches, bunches herself into a ball.

She hopes to warm herself in the biting cold.

She steels herself as the frozen glacial hand of frost, wrenches her from her safe corner.

She tries to ward off the firm icy grasp of winter that shakes and rattles her mercilessly.


The humid mist of indifference and rejection seeps into every fold of her garment.

It chills her to the bone.

She struggles to warm her deadened body as her heart cries for life.

The howling desolate wind of lack and “barely making ends meet” pushes her to the ground.

They devour the last morsel of hope she’d held dearly in her bosom.


She doesn’t give in to despair.

She gathers herself painfully.

She struggles back to her feet.

She shakes like a flag in a tornado.

She is unsteady like a boat in the stormy sea.


She painstakingly  with an iron will, gathers the crumbs of hope strewn around her.

She vows to herself that no matter what it takes she will persevere.

She will nurture the frail, fragile bird called hope.

She will allow it to soar high again.

Her life depended on it.




I am scared.

I cannot move.

I cannot breathe.

I tremble and shake.


My mouth is dry.

My heartbeat is a drum.

My knees are wobbly.

My hands are clammy.


My mind is blank.

My eyes are haggard.

My nose flares.

My stomach is a knot.


I am terrified.

I am anxious.

I am worried.

I am stuck.


Oh! What do I do?


Do I cringe?

Do I stop?

Do I quit?

Do I run?


Do I persevere?

Do I push past the fear?

Do I tread though it is not clear?

Do I move forward though none cheers?


I will give it a try.

I have nothing to lose.

I have all to gain.

I will do it afraid.


Dear me, I release you.

Enjoy the journey, embrace your failures. 

Take pleasure in your small victories.

Be kind to yourself; this is the oxygen that will take you to the summit.




I want to change.

How do I do it?

I want to stop.

Please show me how.


Each struggle pushes me back.

Each wriggle puts me down.

Each step forward I take brings me lower.

Each tentative I make brings me to my knees.


Oh! What can I do?

Who can help this sinking woman!




She tried to steel her trembling heart.

Her shaking hands.

She wanted to quiet the rage, fear, and tremor she felt within.

The volcano within her was rumbling, throbbing.

The pressure was building up.

It was almost the breaking point.

The molten lava was boiling.

The volcano, on the verge of exploding;

Spewing out the potent, scorching mass;

Burning everything in its wake.

She was exhausted.

She was burned out.




Push inwards.

Pull outwards.

Stretch sideways.

Flatten completely.


Pressure from outside.

Pressure from inside.

Pressure from around.

Pressure from above.


Please release me.

Please relieve me.

Please rescue me.

Please relent!



Ease this pressure that is breaking me!




There is no void in nature; the saying goes.

I wonder.

If I don’t do anything, do things stay the same?

If I don’t do anything; do I stay the same?

Is it possible?

It nags me.


Is inertia nothingness?

Do tell.

Is it a state of non-choice?

Which is still a choice; thus there is a result.

I wonder.

When I look at myself, it seems to be the case.


My immobility Is Consent. 

It is a refusal.

It depends on the circumstance.

It is influenced by those involved.

Oh, I am trapped.

When I aim at nothing; I get it in plenty.


Oh well, I will get up.

I will choose something.

At least I will aim at a target of my choosing.

Whether It be good or bad, it is my choice.

I will stop hesitating. 

So, I jump out of my comfort zone.


1, 2, 3, go!

Life, here I come!




Troubled, are you?

Worried, are you?

Shaken, are you?

Broken, are you?


I heard you were down.

I heard you were hurt.

I heard you were worn out, shattered.

I heard you could barely stand.


You struggle.

You stagger.

You tremble.

You crumble.


No tears left.

A shadow of your former self, you are now.

No strength left.

A wisp of smoke easily blown away, you are now.


Broken, shattered you may be now.

It is darkest before dawn.

Your sun will rise again.

Each warm ray will come forth with healing on its wings.


A healing balm comes forth; to bind the broken, the shattered, the worn out, burned out soul.





Do, what you do.

The way, you do what you do; when you do what you do.

Do it to the best of your ability.

Doing, what it is that you do; when you do what you do.

Whenever you do this thing, you do.

Do it happily, enjoying every moment; you do your thing.



Every time I was around you, I came away drained.

No matter how hard I tried, I was never enough.

Whatever I shared,

Whatever I tried to make you see;

Shrivelled, dried up and died at your feet.

Neglected, rejected.


Tonight, it’s almost the same old story.

I opened the gates of my heart, to let you in.

You seemed to appreciate it.

I was ecstatic, you almost fooled me.

Then the verdict fell.

You deemed that I wasn’t enough.


Your harsh judgment has always crushed me.

It left me second guessing myself.

I  wondered how to achieve this elusive state of “enoughness.”

I have renounced it tonight.

I will no longer chase after this unattainable goal of pleasing you.

For it is all chasing after the wind.


I have finally realized that I am enough.

With all my cracks and crevices, I am enough.

I am enough just being me.

I can grow.

I can improve.

I can be a better version, but always of me.


I am enough!




I can.

There is no other way.

I will.

There is no better option.

I must.

There is no turning back.


I move forward.

I reach out further.

I confront circumstances.

I push beyond my limits.

I build and bounce back from my experiences.

I leap, I soar.


I am alive, finally!




Be gentle with me.

You are careful with others.

You are sweet to others.

You are wild toward me.


Take me as I am.

For I am all, you’ll ever have.

I am not cynical when I say this.

An unbreakable thread binds us.


Wherever you go, I am with you.

Whatever you do, I am present.

We share our thoughts.

We feel the same thing.


Be gentle with me.

Everyone goes away.

I am always with you.

They never see your secret struggles, I do.


You, myself and I make a fantastic team.

Life is lovely when we agree.

So, do bury the hatchet.

Please end the negative self-talk and self-loathing. 


Be gentle with me, dear self.





Why rejected?

Why forsaken?

Why discarded?


Give me, give me more!

You want, you take.

You demand you expect.

Get all you want, give nothing in return!


Here I am.

All wrung dry.

Here I am, a husk discarded.

All essence sucked out!









I’ll have none of them.

I have no patience for the mediocre.

I loathe anything substandard.

Away from me weaklings!


Perfection is the only one allowed close to me.


I am perplexed.

Why does the reflection in my mirror seem off?

I am troubled by this anomaly.

Why does my reflection resemble your broken self?


Loathsome reflection!

It must be a mirage.

What a warped reality!

It cannot be the likeness of this perfect self, named I.


Perfection is the name of the game.


Thus you need to change to be lovely like I.

Is it the truth or am I deluding myself?

If only I can change you, then life will be perfect!

Is it the truth, or a big fat lie I tell myself?


I change you, and then I can improve.

You make a move first, and then I will step out.

Or is it the other way round?

I wonder.




You made it to today.

You stumbled yesterday.

You crumbled yesterday.

You bumbled yesterday.


You made it to today.

You threw in the towel yesterday.

You had a pity party yesterday.

You mumbled, grumbled and whined yesterday.


You made it to today.

You feared and dreaded yesterday.

You envied and coveted yesterday.

You were jeered and rejected yesterday.

You tore asunder, blundered and plunged yesterday.


You made it to today.

Yesterday’s mistakes don’t define you.

They are manure.

They fertilize your future.


You made it to today.

You fell flat on your face.

You got the wind knocked out of you.

You are a winner, bounce back up!


You made it to today.

Make this moment count.

For today is the yesterday of your tomorrow.

You can create a yesterday that will bring you joy.


You made it to today.

Be grateful.

Be positive.

Be the best version of you.


You made it to today.

Paint your best work of art, on the canvas of today.

Then tomorrow you will enjoy.

The tapestry you created today.


You made it to today.

You are a champion.

You have what it takes.

You are a winner.


Go and live out loud. 




Dreams shattered

Purpose snuffed out.

Laughter cut short.

Lives snuffed out.


It is grievous.

It is heart-wrenching.

It is unfair.

It is horrible.


How do we live on now?


Lovely bird called hope, please do arise.

Peace and justice.

Lovely twins, please do come forth.

Arise like the Phoenix, from the ashes of our pain.


Give in to this horror,

We will not.

Give in to terror,

We will not.


We stand with your loved ones.

We stand with your families.

We stand with your friends.

We stand with your colleagues.


We stand together.


You have left us too soon.

Victims, you are more than that.

Casualties, you are more than that.

Numbers you are not.


You are children, women, men.

You are brothers, sisters, cousins.

You are wives, husbands, fiancées, lovers.

You are nieces, nephews, grandchildren.


You were loved.

You are loved.

We will miss you.

We will remember you.




I hurt, so you must care.

I hurt, if you don’t do this or that, I am angry.

I hurt, if you don’t humour me, it means you don’t care.

I hurt, thus I am diminished and fragile.


I hurt, so I am in need of constant delicate care.

I hurt, please be at my service.

I hurt, so your needs met; I don’t care.

I hurt, thus what I want is a law, a priority.


If I didn’t hurt, I would care.

I do hurt, so for now, all eyes on me.

The rest around me is beyond my care.

The responsibility to deal with you all, I can’t bare.




It is funny how love goes.

When the soaring, turns sour.

When the heady, turns hateful.

When the gentleness, turns gruesome.


You stay laying there.

Wallow in self-pity.

Whining, wailing, pitifully.

Waiting, in agony.


You hope they turn, with a loving glance at you.

You hope they realize, how valuable you are.

You hope they repent, regret, tearing, hurting, breaking you.

You yearn, wait, languish, hope to no avail.


They walk away calmly.

They walk whistling a lively tune.

They walk without a backward glance.

They ignore the wallowing, whining, pitiful you.


Merely walking away, turning the pages, letting the curtain fall.


Will you stay down?

Will you let you down?

Will you give up on you?

Will you abandon, turn away from you?


Walk towards yourself.

Turn over a new leaf.

It’s time to raise the curtain.

You are worth it.


Love, you!