I stand in the shower for an hour every morningin an attempt to wash off all the years of leaving embedded in my skin-The fingerprints of ghosts long gone.For a few fragments of a few seasonsI believe that the past does not matterAnd some daysI lather and rinseenough times to feel warm againBut most daysI… Continue reading I drink grief some days to wake up
One day you’ll wake up, a little tired but unafraid.You’ll wake up, wishing you could sleep in five more minutes but never that you could wake up in that one lover’s armsYou’ll wake up, and you’ll get out of bedAnd you’ll go do whatever you have to do,Whether it is going out for a runOr… Continue reading It is the small things that will save you
Anyone who says there are no joys in life is either lying or has not been paying attention. Sometimes it does take me longer to find the joys, for some years I thought I could not place my finger on any. But now, I know I always had them around, I just wasn’t paying close… Continue reading How we got here. Part 3: The Joys
How we got hereThe way I tell this story used to be from A to BBut today, I’ll tell it differentlybecause when I think of myself from 10 years agoI know it is a longer story than just A to B. PART 1: THE MIRROR. There is no romanticism in how I see myself, all… Continue reading How we got here. Part 1: The Mirror
This is how you get back up on your feet.There will never be definite moments of recovery.Some days you’ll wake up with a bounce at your heels,other days, it’ll be stormy as all helland then when a set of these days are over,you will obliterate the agonyand you will heal. You waitand you never stop… Continue reading This is how you get back up
Lost tides of youstill ripple through my sheetsloneliness has never felt so familiarit’s almost as if you never left. Your touch has always beena ghost to me.
"In the last days of being able to seeI decided to look at everythingTake in all the beauty the world could muster.I planned what I'd do now onwardReplay these memories, envision new onesIn the last day of being open to coloursI took time to decide one i liked best I went everywhere I loved,Made an effort… Continue reading In the last days
There was a time he was worth writing aboutWhen everything about him would flow like poetry He ignited the part in me that wroteLittle did I know words make more sense-They get better-As the person in you breaks.It took me half as long to realize as it will take to forgetThat he was not the words… Continue reading Fixing at a cost
Wini with Words 