I refuse to accept that this,

this suffocating miniature world

of robots, ants and mindless sheep,

is the life that I get.

I know that it isn’t the life for me.

I refuse to settle for the easy;

To passively mold myself into the shape

of a square and fit within its edges

when I was clearly born to be a circle.

I want more.

I want what lies beyond that blue shimmering depth.

And I know that somewhere, out-there,

that more is patiently waiting for me.



It has become a cycle. She would find the strength to hold on, and grasp on any speck of hope but the heart by nature is an impatient child and love itself a fickle dove, and grows weary with the lack of success. She then decides that the best solution would be letting it all go, but doing so would be like walking across a bed of hot stones. She would bravely take the first step and recoil almost immediately, only to realize that holding on was much easier than letting go. Nothing has felt more right to her than fighting for him. If moving on is what she must do then why does it feel like a mistake? Why should she willingly submerge herself into the murky waters of emptiness? She has heard tales of great warriors who have followed their hearts and attained bliss and she is listening; to every beat, every whisper and every sting and it has led her to one place and one person. Was she expected to walk away from that? The homesickness is almost nauseating, constantly weighing her down. She has known happiness, and she has known greatness. She has tasted freedom and bathed in its delight. She has seen her future and turning away from that would only break her.

Excepts from a book I’ll never write

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Dreamers & Deceivers

I am tired of the Dreamers;

these no-good aspirants,

spouting off their fruitless desires,

And empty do they remain

for never are they attained.

Exhausting has it become

listening to the hollow promises

made by these callous deceivers.

They give birth to the monstrous creations

we know as expectations

and pave the route towards disappointment.

So thus I must say

I am tired of myself for I am

known to be one among the sinners.

Who am I to judge,

when I have senselessly spoken

of moments that will never come to pass.


Already Gone

I can no longer put to rest

the anxiety and panic that

fills my chest and stomach

when we are together.

Nor can I ignore the

guilt that floods in.

We had sat innocently underneath the

clear February Sky,

softly sipping our cool beverages,

sharing laughter and long forgotten memories;

A well-played act on my part.

But truth be told, I was suffocating

within the air of wrongness that

grew thicker and thicker with

every passing moment.

Our chapter had ended.

Once had been enough.

I am grateful for all that you have done.

But the girl  you once knew is already gone.