It’s when those scars start to bleed again,
When old wounds come back to life,
When the flesh around your ribs contract,
Sucking the very bit of air you’d hoped to get in,
The air that would help you not drown,
Like weak ships engulfed by the monstrous ocean.


The masochism doesn’t help.
Nor do the teas.
Nor do conversations laced with laughter,
Lift the freight clouding your little mind.
Behind closed doors, your face is wet,
The soreness in your chest worsens.


Each day, you tell yourself today will be different.
Each night, you promise yourself tonight is the last.
The hours pass by, consuming your resilience,
Sending you crumbling when darkness materialises.
Your misery taunts you as you close your eyes,
Dancing the dance of despair.


‘Tis only slumber that sets you free,
Pulling away from the dread,
Releasing you to an abyss of imagination,
Where everything works,
And the tears come from howling too hard,
And your stomach hurts till you can’t breathe.



Two steps.
He took two steps towards her.
She hung her head in gloom,
In misery.

Reaching his hand out,
He cupped her face,
And felt hot tears flow into his palm.
Grief was what she concealed.

Swinging the other arm around her,
He pulled her closer,
Embracing her,
Placing his chin on her head.

They stood there for an eternity,
Etching each other’s curves into their memories.
Afraid to let go,
Petrified of separation.

She lifted her head,
And what he saw was more beautiful than sunrise at the hills,
More mesmerising than the plush Ireland fields,
Her smudged kohl, around the circles of her eyes.

Those sparkling brown eyes,
Which he fell in love with,
The first day he lay eyes on her.
Picturing his entire life in those irises.

The lips he wanted to plant multiple kisses on,
Which distracted him whenever she would talk,
Or laugh with those straight set teeth,
Till her stomach hurt and she fell over.

Once on the right cheek,
Then on the left,
On her forehead, and on her nose,
He imprinted his lips.

He brought his mouth closer to her ear,
And whispered slowly,
“I will never give up on us. Ever.
You will always be mine. I promise.”


Hues of crimson
Patches of indigo
Spills of ruby
Tainted her exterior.

The warmth of the trickle runs across her arm
Turning course on her wrist
Winding around the curve
And finally falling off her thumb.

A sense of relief
Oceaned her sunken psyche.
Lungs expand
Air rushing in.

Beads of sweat birth
Her forehead shines in the dusk.
Her eyes flood
But she doesn’t blink.

She doesn’t feel grief.
She feels respite.
The blade sets her soul untaken.
She feels control.

Control on her life.
Control on her body.
Control on her mind.

She wants to escape.
Run free.
Run wild.

But a force chains her.
Chains her spirit.
Chains her will.

So she sits back.
And waits.
For courage to rescue her.

With every inch of her quivering fibre,

She fought back her tears.

Sorrow consumed her from the inside,

Her soul clenched with fears.


But through the night and day,

By rain, wind or shine,

The upward curve across her face

Made others’ days divine.

Little Girl


The muscles in my back contracted.

My breath went shallow.

My chest felt numb.

And my heart turned hollow.

All the words I heard,

Were cold as ice.

I didn’t trust my ears.

Was I paying the price?

Of being patient and staying loyal.

I suffered and stayed silent.

Day and night, like clockwork

The routine felt violent.

Despite all of it,

I was called a fool

My feelings were discarded

Like a pathetic little tool.

I didn’t feel sad, I couldn’t.

I wasn’t angry, just lost.

For two whole years,

Was this the cost?

No importance, no appreciation.

Absolutely nothing to smile.

Lost a whole year for love,

Was I being juvenile?

So close, and yet so far.

The distance only increased.

We were further apart.

The emotions almost deceased.

The finish line was in sight,

But the comfort was nowhere near.

Time to end the race?

I wondered, oh dear.

2.15 am


Each night I lie awake
Struggling to fall asleep
To physical pains, I am immune
‘Tis the struggle of time, that keeps me up.

Extended indefinitely
With no clear sign
And nothing in sight
How long do I wait?

My impatience cracks through my facade
I try harder to not budge
Thoughts force their way to my conscious
Shattering the translucency of my being

How much longer do I stand here?
How much do I bear?
How far do I have to tread on this path?
How much should I pretend?

My patience wears thin
Exposing my fault lines
Weakening their immune
Dropping the curtains.

How long do I wait?


That one particularly frosty winter night,

While she was sitting in the cold, phone pressed to her ear,

The words that came over the other line,

Were supremely bitter, even for her.

Sure. She had heard literally worse before.

But nothing like this.

Only because she chose to speak her mind.

Only because she didn’t want to be away any longer.

Biting her tongue, and swallowing hard,

She kept quite, not wanting to sound hurt.

Or weak.

It’s a different thing, entirely.

You don’t expect to feel this way, you know?

Makes your insides churn- the hurt.

The psychological wounds morph into physical.

They hurt her heart. Her mind, more so.

In under sixty seconds, the distance, only geographical before,

Progressed to an emotional one.

What was only a matter of time,

Became a question mark for the future.