Breathe in

Breathe out


It’s static;

it’s unfeeling.

It’s worry that should be fleeing.

It was lava;

it was ice.

There’s more where it came from,

I wish I could think twice.

Breathe in

Breathe out


I wish I could sleep;

I’d run on clouds,

while side-stepping the storms.

The ones who orchestrate the whirlpools in my head.

Breathe in

Breathe out


It’s seemingly pointless, isn’t it?

How many days, minutes, moments,

do we try to run from ourselves each time?

How many days, minutes, moments,

do we stare into our imperfections, vowing to break up with them?

End them because we are done.

Done with fatal flaws.

Done with misguided actions.

Yet we know we’ll never be done

with every minuscule imperfection,

but there are some parts of us that we wish

we were never familiar with.

Breathe in

Breathe out




You creak and crackle

as though twigs are being stepped on, crushed,

and you’re nearing campfires

where warmth no longer effortlessly settles.

The rain is pouring,

but it’s not the kind that you tilt your head back to

and willingly accept the drops of heaven.

They pelt you instead,

as though it’s meant to leave pin-size holes onto your skin.

Again, you push.

You pull,

and you struggle.

You try to make the best of it and jump in a puddle.

Instead you forgot that you weren’t wearing rain boots,

you barely had a coat on,

and your hair is matted to your face.

You’ve been threatened to be pulled apart before,

and you’ve refused every time,

but maybe they’ll get to you now.

This time, maybe you shouldn’t fight them so harshly.

Perhaps you change your game plan.

You show them how your vulnerability makes you into the warrior that you are.

That you aren’t meant to always be invincible,

because that’s inconceivable.

and you shouldn’t have to fight like it’s the final battle each time.

Little losses

Wondrous wins

You know where you want your endgame to take you.

Mighty warrior,

do not falter.

Your vulnerabilities complement your power.


Smiling saffron

Jumping dandelions

My mind is a ruffle of feathers right now.

Chocolate dreams

Chasing pennies

I’m thinking with a fog

Earphones are buttoned in.

Barely a sound.

Only soft spoken reminders

They signal that the world still exists around me.


Mute myself away.

In by the light corner

Filled with glass windows.

Wishing that the sky’s gray would at least give me relief.

Talk about diffusion.

Mints for relaxation.

Driving thoughts to calm stations.

Three more hours.

Barometer pressures are going down.

If you can manage to follow my thoughts

Here’s a suggestion of what I’ve been feeling.


You are strong,

yet graceful


yet fierce.

Your hands

can move mountains if it wanted to.

The clouds

would part ways to let you shine.

You are more than enough.

You are just right.

Excuses condemning you

are nuisances you shouldn’t truly listen to.

Perfection may be far off

but you are set to be even better than that to begin with.

You are complete

whole, fulfilling, and much better than perfection.

Don’t worry about the scars, the baggage–

those small things do not complete the picture of you.

They are the unequivocal nature and beauty of you.

They’re the arrow signs that point to

how strong you’ve been on this journey;

how graceful you continue to walk.

It is beauty that is incomparable,

because a fierce woman brings all that she is to the table

and that is worth more than perfection.

Happy #internationalwomensday!

This is to all the women– the powerful, the mighty, the leaders who are unapologetically themselves. You are all an inspiration. Your womanhood, your identity, exactly how you define it, should be revered. Thank you for all that you are and for committing to be the woman that you are in this world.

#0 – 2





Driven to the point of madness.

I had an obsession over being ahead.

An obsession over doing the most at every slice of time available with no regard over my health, my wellbeing, my humanity.

My humanity that I sacrificed to be a constantly running machine.

I needed to be one step ahead of others

ahead of myself.

Way too ahead of myself that I end up dragging my humanity as it’s tied to the back end, trailing.

Trailing along with all the tears that I don’t even express because they’re a waste of time.

A waste of expression, of energy that could be used elsewhere to power the mechanical turnstiles in my head.




Sighing at how different and yet the same it has been.

Different, because I’m in a better place.

Same, because I seem to be prone to run my hand through the same bushes that leave thorns.

Productivity continues,

but preservation is priority.

I’d like to say that gone are the days of tireless work hours and sparse breaks, but…

Not quite.





Wishing for better, for stronger, for more forgiveness.

For myself.

For every lost opportunity.

I can’t seem to force my hands to stop from snatching the next stepping stone, thinking of the next dream, working for the next milestone.

Maybe forgiveness is what I need to take with me.

To remember that I am whole without all the extra fluff.

That there’s more when I do less.

Fake news

Build your facade

brick by brick

cause that’s all they see anyway.

Break it down,

crush it when necessary,

then build it up all over again.

Sometimes you wonder

whether the only person who truly knows who you is simply yourself.

But then you also wonder

whether you even know yourself to begin with.

Its like looking at a tabloid

and daydreaming about other people’s lives whom you don’t even know.

And you wonder how many fantasies

your head made up about your own self.