Tin Man

He was a hulking man

With a voice edged with authority,

Body parts designed for hostility,

And narrowed eyes that awakened

child-like fears.


In the distance  I hear a clang,

It’s the tin man.

The unmoveable man;

Feet sunken so deep into the ground,

That he could feel the worms slithering around

But still chooses to stay.


A white wall that hears but never listens,

Was he too much of a man to show compassion?

Were these hands incapable of loving,

What is love if it’s not given?


I heard that the dead lie in graves,

So I dig and dig,

Only to find,

That the man I wanted him to be

Never really existed.





You speak of love as if you know of it;

As though you have tasted its sweet divine,

Met it face to face at a coffee shop,

Gazed into its depths,

And uncovered its secrets and mysteries.

But you do not know of love.

love is growth

It.  does. not. hinder



Heart On My Sleeve

Dear Brother,

Words are not enough to express how much you annoy me. Even now, being separated by miles and miles, you have found ways to exasperate me. Mule headed, controlling, bossy. That’s what you are. But strangely enough these are things that I miss the most. It dawned on me that I may not get to see you for another year and a half, even longer depending on the circumstances and this very thought saddens me. You have been a constant in my life ever since I was born and it has been challenging adapting to a life without you. Don’t get me wrong. I’m glad that I got to have your room and the internet all to myself. However these trivial things are not what comforts me when I’m down. I miss you. I really do. Things have been hard lately and I know that it would have been a tinge easier with you around. I find myself doing the things that we would normally do together; the silly gestures, the random singing outbursts, the ridiculous laughs. It is honestly the little things that I miss the most.

Soon, very soon, I’ll be off on a new journey and would be starting an entirely new chapter of my life, which is great but I kind of wish you’d be there to see me off at the airport. It’s not that I want you to come home. I don’t. Really, stay where you are. I know you are happier out there and I hope that you one day get the chance to make that your home but it is simply unavoidable for little sisters to miss their big brothers.

Lots of Love,

Your Sister J



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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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.


Walk Away

He was right. Leaving him had not affected her as much as she had expected it to. She recalled their last encounter, how he had exclaimed with great indignation, that she had become so used to walking in and out of people’s lives and that this would most likely not rock her boat. To be honest, at first she had been profoundly distressed by the lash back, but after giving it some thought, she had come to the realization that he had indeed been right. It has become a habit of hers to set the stage for a grand performance, get the crowd reeled in and excited for what is to come and to walk out when the show got started, leaving nothing but chaos in her wake. It had never been her intention to do so; having been so used to the process it had now become somewhat of her second nature. It was her method of retaining control and saving herself; A defense mechanism of the sort. She could not ease the panic that settled in when she felt that someone was getting too close, that someone was bordering the fringes of her true personality. It didn’t suit her; companionship that is. At least that is what she told herself. Walking away was the best solution. Why fight a losing battle? For indeed she was fighting a battle against herself. She could not bring herself to push past the anxieties and the fears. It was best she walked away.

excerpt from a book i’ll never write