Death and Dreaming

I dreamt of my grandmother just a couple of days before she died. I hadn’t thought about her for a while then (she’d been fighting cancer for some time). When I learned about her passing, on a school night, I felt a bit sad but was mostly in denial. I went to school the next day, composed, still in denial perhaps, until it was lunch time. I sat with a group of friends, not having mentioned the passing of my grandmother (likely not even thinking about it at the moment), someone brought up dreams, and for the first time, I heard the interpretation that when you dream of someone, it means that they’re the ones who have been thinking of you, not the other way around.

For some reason, I was suddenly hit by a storm of emotions, barely able to fight back the tears. I guess, although probably untrue, I was saddened by the idea of me crossing my grandmother’s mind days before her passing when she hadn’t, albeit should’ve, crossed mine.


“I Want You”

‪I thought when you said you wanted me, that you meant you wanted only me. I thought that I was your result, the end of your search, but I was wrong. To you, I was just a paper in a magazine. A funny girl who the sight of didn’t make you gag, one of many. You’re bored now, onto the next page.‬

Our Lines

He made me cross the lines I’ve drawn for myself & I made him cross his. We kept crossing lines one after the other until we lost sight of all. What was left was a single line that made a circle surrounding the both of us. It was him & I inside the circle while everyone else outside. 

It’s been 8 months since then. Now I’m all alone inside that circle. 


What comes after day? Night. What comes after life? Death. What comes after love? Heartbreak. Those who’ve lived longer or had opened their hearts earlier might have predicted it. They might have even laughed at my naive self for believing in & writing so much about love. I’d like to say it was never him though. It was never me either. It was everything but us. It was everyone else. But then again, does that even matter if it  all hurts the same? 

Love or Lust? 

I used to think that love is in the shaking of hands, the pounding of the heart, the widening of the eyes & the slow passing of time but later I learned that love is in the comfort, and calm. It's in the acceptance of flaws. It is in the absolute trust and fullness of heart. It's the non fading elation within your being. 

Dear Moon

Beautiful moon so bright, all alone at night. 

Do you get scared? Or are you as brave as knights? 

Ever feel lonely up there, or bored? Or do you enjoy the sight?

When it’s time for you to leave, do you cry? Or at least whisper goodbye? 

Do you miss us? Think about us? Or wonder if we miss you?                      

Do you worry about us? Or wonder what we do? 

Does it not frighten you to leave us, under the rays of someone new? 

Does it matter what they might do? 

I speak for myself when I say this, dear moon: I love when it’s just me and you.