She just wanted to think for herself,
To act like herself,
To be her real self…

But she was never allowed to.

Her neck was held
So tight she can’t breathe,
She can’t live.

She just exists.


Candid shot by CELINE

She was the ocean that refused to be crossed,
The mountain that refused to be climbed,
The rose that refused to be held.

The Diary


The smile in your eyes,
The laugh on your lips,
The way you play with my fingertips,
The rhythm of your hands when you caress my hair,
It’s everything I have ever imagined
From the Nicholas Sparks novels,
To Lang Leav and Michael Faudet poems;
Your existence is as magical
As the Prince Charming
In those Fairy Tales that I’ve read
When I was young;
But you’re as real
As your flaws
And all the sweet little things
That you do for me.

You are the imagery
Of every poem I write,
And of the thousands of words
That I have played upon
To make an art of literature;
The metaphor
Of every wonderful thing
I could ever think of
To make a spectacular symbol
For a glittering creation.

You are the owner
Of the Diary
Where I have written my works into,
For every soul living inside me
Knows very well
That I am made for you.

Happy World Poetry Day!


The world is pushing me

to doubt you

and to question

your faithfulness,

but my mind says otherwise

and my heart agrees:

How could I

be skeptical

with everything you do

when you always

put me first

over you?


Who would know
what this future holds?
The present
knows nothing
but to make us wonder
or perhaps
make us hope
of our dreams coming true,
our hearts getting healed,
and our lives being contented;
All things unanswered
in this moment called “now”
may be decoded tomorrow,
or never.

Sudden thoughts. I wonder which of my souls is alive right now.