It doesn’t concern me, but it touched me.

I can do nothing about it, but it shot through my defences.

It is too complicated for me, but it crawled into my soul.

I can not go through this experience for them.

It is their journey and their battle, but why has it infiltrated my mind?

My dear heart, why do you bleed, melt, and yearn to be a change agent?




I am eating my sadness away.

I am “sleep neglecting,” my pain away.

I have thrown away self-care,

In a bid to throw away all care.

Does it work?

Or am I just killing me softly?





Leap, jump, don’t hesitate.

Do it afraid.

Don’t let mistakes petrify you.

Fail forward.

It is better than regretting.

Or agonizing about, the “non-result” caused by your procrastination.

Don’t let trepidation paralyse you.

So today, push past the fear and soar.

Don’t tear up this cherished dream; you took so long to conceive.




Look at me.

Like me, please.

Notice me.

Want me.

Listen close.

Trust me.

Lonely, I need you.




It’s time to curtsy.

It’s time to let the curtains fall.

I have much enjoyed each moment spent in the company of you.


It’s time to turn the page.

It’s time to start anew.

The memories of us always I will cherish, forget you soon, I will not.


It’s time for me to move on.

It’s time for me to exit.

It’s neither that I loathe you, nor because you are lesser.


It’s now time because we’ve grown.

It’s time because our paths have broadened.

You have new horizons, and I have new dreams.


So dear “night owl” friend, it’s a goodbye, and I wish you well.

If you chance to be close to “early in the morning avenue,”

You will most surely find me there.


Goodbye, “night owl”.

Goodbye, “late-night up.”

Goodbye over sleeping.


Early morning, here I come!




Dream big, I dare now.

I edge out slowly, cautiously.

Can I fly this high?

Am I an eagle and not the chicken I have always allowed myself to be?

Oh! What do I do?

The greatness within me is pushing its way out.

It is breaking down the walls of my timidity and resistance.

I am finally giving in to this long-time hidden, repressed desire.

This vision has grown and is pulsating, developing, and pushing outwards.

It is no longer dormant in the far recesses of my mind.

Here I am.

 I give myself permission to live and dream big again.

I am breaking out of this chrysalis called fear and people-pleasing.




By your side, I never noticed anything distinctive.

Well, that’s not true.

I did notice, but I let it be dark under my lamp.


You dealt gently with my reticent heart.

Your patient coaxing broke the walls around my wounded soul.

Your thoughtful gestures rebuild my damaged esteem.


Now that I look closer, I am quite surprised by the treasure I had ignored.

I am amazed by the numerous simple nothings you bestowed upon me.

Your loving heart enveloped me.


I nearly overlooked you.

I waited for the eventful moment where you would declare your affection.

I wanted proof that you had lost your heart to me.


Yet, you had always delicately showed me your love.




It’s dark.

I am nervous.

It is cloudy.

I am worried.


Is this the right road?

Do tell me.

Comfort me.

Clear my doubts.


Can I move forward?

Do I stand still?

Can I try this?

Do I do that?


I know I am asking for too much.

I wish things were more accessible.

If only I could receive an immediate response to my requests.

I wish making decisions came with ease.


I know the answer, but I am scared of implementing it.

I need to take the first step.

I have to move forward despite the blurry vision.

I need to put one foot before the other in spite of my fears.


Walk by faith and not by sight.

I guess that is where I am in my journey.

I take one little step after the other.

Nothing seems to be happening yet.


My heart is awakening and flying joyfully.

Please don’t get your hopes too high, my dear soul.

I am in a process, and I gradually advance.

I inch forward slowly.


That is all I know how to do now. 

Dear heart, I applaud you.

Keep on keeping on; your eyes fixed on the vision of better things to come.

Let hope arise and let nothing distract nor deter you from your dream.




It isn’t enjoyable.

It is cutting.

It is scathing.

It is acrid.


The remarks you hurl at me, make me squirm in my seat.

I long for peace of mind.

Oh, I do yearn for a rested, quiet spirit.

This ruckus in my mind is draining.


Being pulled left, right, and centre is bending me out my shape.




Dear guilt, you are a cruel slave master.

You whip me.

You thrash me.

You flog me.

You trounce me.


You are ruthless.

You are unbending.

You are merciless.

You are inflexible

You are cold, hard, and distant.


When you appear, you release me not.

You hold me tight in your vice-like clutch.

You squeeze every essence of light joyfulness out of me.

For you have decreed, “there is no respite or joy” for such as I.

I deserve no peace of mind, for I am imperfect.




It is quite strange.

Whenever I feel like I have it all together, everything unravels at my feet.

I have to deal with issues I once brushed aside as being facile and insignificant.

Now that I am in the thick of things, I realize how wrong I was.

I had allowed myself to be narrow-minded and blinded by my inflated sense of knowledge.




Am I good enough?

Have I ever been good enough?

Do I do enough?

I wonder.

Do I like me?

Do I even know myself?

Am I compassionate to others?

And if I am full of empathy for others, how do I treat me?

Am I merciful, gentle, and kind to myself?




There always seems to be something I want, just over there.

There always seems to be something I crave beyond my reach.

I strive, push, grasp, and stretch.

Yet, I come back empty.

I can neither touch nor hold it.

I will attain my goal next time.

I should try again, one more time!

I know I will make it.

One try is all I need.

Here we go again.

I promise this time; I will succeed.




Walk this road with you; I will.

Take this route in the dark of night; I will.

Walk this road when the storm is raging; I will.

Take this path when it is all chaos and confusion; I will.

Walk this road when it takes us all we have to put one foot before the other; I will.


When it is dark, I will persevere because it is on the journey that I discover who I am,  who you are, and who we are.

It is during the storm that we huddle and cuddle together and draw strength from each other.

It is in the chaos and confusion that I learn to focus on the essential things.

When we are overwhelmed by circumstances, we zero in and lock onto what is important to us.

We hold on to each other and move forward inch by inch. We take time to acknowledge and celebrate our little victories.  




The beauty is in the waiting.

The magic is in the process.

The tentative smile.

The stolen glances.

The hesitant voice.

The silent conversations.

The eyes that speak volumes.

The hearts that dance in unison.




Gentle caressing eyes.

She feels the warm, heady breath upon her nape.

Firm, confident embrace encompasses her.

She’s falling into warmth.

Her heartbeat accelerates.

She can barely breathe.

How could one be so lovely to behold?

How could it be so heavenly to be held?




I thought you would wait for me.

You are no longer here.

The plans and promises made all lie here empty, broken.

If only I could turn back time.

I would let you see all these treasures I had locked deep inside my heart.




Bright lights.

Shiny tinsel.

Bells tinkle.

Stars twinkle.


Hustling and bustling.

You seek the perfect gift.

What a lovely season.

It is Christmas again.


Crackling fire.

Roasted chestnuts.

Tantalizing butter biscuits.

So many goodies that make your mouth water.


Yet, there are so many lonely souls.

They drift by in mutual silence.

They don’t want to spoil the ambiance.

They don’t want to disrupt the artificial joyfulness.


They smile to make believe that they are part of the happy populace.

Others cannot hide.

They are invisible in plain sight.

They struggle to keep their broken frame warm and dignified.


A few generous souls work tirelessly.

They try to bring a bit of comfort to these forgotten souls.

They offer a hot drink and warm clothing.

The donations they receive from kindred spirits enable them to reach out to the needy.


I do wonder what I am doing during this festive season.

Will I allow the bright lights and shiny tinsel to blind me?

Or, will I let the true spirit of Christmas illuminate my heart?

The essence of this season isn’t only receiving, but most of all, giving.


Will I give warmth and good cheer to those around me?

Will I open my heart and hand to the needy souls I tend to overlook?

Will I allow me to see and esteem invisible lonely souls around me?

Will I also take time to be kind to me too?




The coverings were for warmth.

The wrappings were for protection.

The coverings were for isolation.

The wrappings were for insulation.


You put on a mantle that protects you from the biting cold.

You wrap yourself into a tight ball in a bid to shield yourself from the cutting indifference.

You isolate yourself from the source of perceived pain.

You go inwards to insulate yourself from the demeaning glance.


I am traversing a desert.

You are lonely in a crowd.

I am battling the raging storm.

You feel isolated while in good company.


Turn the lights on and see me.

Please turn off your prejudice and see us.





Regal, confident.

A statement.

A declaration.



You only come this far.

The boundary is clear.

Trespassers beware!



Grey zones disappear.

White lies evaporate.

Psychological and emotional blackmail exposed.



You resist me now, and you loathe me,  I know.

You were used to barging into my life as you pleased.

That time is over now; it’s a new dawn.



My no is a regal gown that clothes me.

What I reject reveals what I accept.

Without you, dear two-letter word, I am void and without form.



My newly made friend.

Our first encounter was clumsy and nerve-racking.

Now I gladly embrace you.



My lovely one, come away with me, and let’s explore this wild forest of my life.

My dear two-letter friend let us create margins and limits.

May our new boundaries enclose our beautiful secret garden called “the real me.”