A Proposition Of Escape

High, I hold you up in your own prohibitive space..

My coruscating star, my pendant light..

Within those eyes of lustre black, I found my solace..

Take me by the hand and let us go out of sight..

Me and you, we do not belong in a world where sin is feared..

Vanish my strings, allow me to free fall into you..

Tell me you know, that here, our fusion is not revered..

Take me away and lets perpetrate something we can’t undo..


Laments Of An Anguished Heart..

My memory of you remains vivid..

Time is stitching my wounds loosely..

In my heart, your knife is still fitted..

On my pieces, you danced carelessly..

I dream of eradicating your apparition..

Of a spell to be reborn..

For disposal has become an ambition..

When sanity has been torn..

Past to present: A timeline

Friday. 06:14am, two weeks ago:

“I usually wake up before him. I gently unwrap his arms from around my waist and place a soft kiss on his cheek before I go shower. By the time I’m done, he’s standing outside, shirtless, with a cigarette flickering between his fingers. As much as I want him to quit this virulent habit, but I adore the sight of him exactly like that. That particular moment, when the graceful view of his body meets the sunrise, combined with the bitterness of the Coffee down my throat, makes me feel like if I died at that moment, I’d die at my happiest.
I head back to our room to get dressed, he follows me to lay back in bed because he can still spare a few more minutes in bed before taking a shower and getting ready for work. He loves watching me get dressed, he says that it’s his favourite part of the day. He says he loves how the shirt falls on my shoulders, the way my fingers move while I button it up from bottom to top, how the sight of my neck unravels his worries while I pull my hair up.
I hold his face and kiss him before I put my lipstick on. Frankly, I don’t why I always kiss him before putting my lipstick on. It’s as if I want to imprint his kiss on my bare lips and then safeguard it under my lipstick until I see him again. He hates it when I put make up on. It actually infuriates him sometimes. He believes it’s an act that delineates arrant violation of natural beauty. I always smile and listen thinking how much I love his mind and his smart mouth.
As soon as I’m done, he walks me to the car, still shirtless, still mine. He opens the door for me and places the warmest, most loving kiss on my forehead, “God, I love you,” he whispers with his eyes closed before his lips softly leave my forehead. I drive away thinking that I can’t wait for the day to end so I’d go back home to him.”

Today, 06:20am:

I like to think that time will handle our story. That maybe a time will come where I wake up without you haunting my every thought and move. I’ll have my regular cup of Coffee as I do every morning and stare outside from my window for a while, I will then dress up, put my make up on and leave the house tranquilly. I would go through my day doing everything half-heatedly with a smile incised on my face. I’ll pull off ‘normal’ for 24 hours. Who knows, maybe I’ll even fall asleep without any pills.



I want to tell you how it feels like being with you. It feels like an eruption of love, lust and intellect. You provoke all my primal instincts and I’m madly in love with way you make my senses dance around you.

You linger on my skin..

Art work by Ali Özer

Art work by Ali Özer

I lay at night, staring at the naked sky, full of scintillating stars. Stars that reminded me of us… How every look from you illuminates my heart from within, how every touch screams out endearment.
Oh dear God why did you send him to me?  Whenever I’m with him, I think of nothing else but him, my mind goes entirely void. Everything else is a blur except him, his face and his body. The way he looks at me, that very exact moment his eyes meet mine, I feel like I’m at the pinnacle of my femininity.  He looks at me as if I’m Eve herself.  An immense look of confidence, confident he is that my heart is retained by him, that he is the home of my psyche.

I crave for nothing more than your presence right now, for your essence, for your whispers of intimacy..


Artwork by Iñaki Otaola

Artwork by Iñaki Otaola

Today was the day I almost held your hand and brought you back home.
Today, I wanted to break my bones and hand you my heart.
Today. I realized you’re the rush I need in my veins.
Today, I felt the hollow inside me screaming for you.
Today, I had excruciating pain in my heart at the sound of your voice.
Today, I had to live knowing the letters of your name will be forever lingering on my lips.
Today, I knew it wasn’t easy breathing without your head on my chest.
Today, I realized no one could possibly make me feel this alive.
Today, I got struck by the irreconcilability of logic and love.
Today, I was on the verge of free falling oceans in you.
Today, I heard you calling my name and my knees trembled.
Today, I was keen on spending the rest of my days wrapped in your arms.
Today, I wanted to strip down from all that’s holding me back and let you take me in.
Today, I loved you the most.

Today,  was also the day,  I said nothing.

Holy Enrapture


Artwork by Joe Webb

To be entraped, to be entagled in a place you cannot escape. A place that intercepts diversions and obsecures senses. I may never come across a place with more contradiction and antithesis. Although it is a place of imprisonment, it also the home of freedom; its very own inception. Every part of me is tied to it, not with my own will, but my body’s. Because in it, I find
deliverance, liberation and utter clarity.

This place is a being, a man. A multitude of passion, love, virility, affection and lust. He is a prison I never want to be freed from..

Sadness Is A Bliss

I’m aware that it is very unconventional to look at sadness in this way, but would you have ever felt happiness if you haven’t experienced sadness? Yes, it is true that we never want be in that state of utmost dejection and gloom but frankly, if you have not experienced intensive sadness then you certainly have not experienced happiness at it’s highest.

Art work by Kieran Brent

Art work by Kieran Brent

Imagine having a life that goes smoothly, a life with no obstacles, no stumbling blocks, no drawbacks or deterrents. A life of ease and comfort, you never experience loss, failure or heartache. Would you still appreciate and value living? Would you still taste the sweetness of self-achievements, victory and triumph? Would you still have felt  your heart being reborn by the power of love? No.. You wouldn’t, not at all.

Valour in practicing shame..


Artwork by Ana Teresa Barboza

For a moment, I am asunder, shattered and stuck in interludes from reality.  Every time, every single time it happens, I loath myself for being so vulnerable, so frail and so .. Nude. I opened up again? Ignoramus to the virile cruelty again? Me who mocks the alleged putative sincerity of man?!

Frankly, I feel obliged to tell you how it feels, sleeping on a tear bathed pillow with  the inconsistent beat of a mangled heart, GUILT-FREE. I may not be well now, neither mentally nor physically. But my conscience remains an unspekeled glass, contrary to yours. I have never anchored a heart. My pillow is far more comfortable than yours. My heart bleeds tears through my eyes but your mind, it bleeds suppressed culpability through your conscience.  Unfortunately for you, your conscience is ventless. Guilt can only ooze out of your pores, consequently,  you reek shame.

It’s astonishing you are still capable of looking me in the eyes as you step on the same floor my feet walked on. My very own feet that carried me up as I headed to the drawer of tear jars and wiped blotches of your poison from my soul. The extent of your cruelty does not cease to amaze me. In fact, it’s impressive and  astounding how you find sitting on the wreck of my broken pieces.. Okay. How ever, you’re still transparent to me. I’m not oblivious of your fearful eyes every time you turn your gaze away. I see fear when your feet involuntarily change course only by glimpse of my approaching shadow. Fear of what you ask? Fear of being unforgiven, of having my wounds haunting your dreams. Fear of my unaveging soul awakening a tremendously vindictive God.

That mask of valour you wear, it’s just a matter of time it crumbles down..I know my silence is a curse to you..

Vengeance of the wounded..

Art work by Gino Rubert

Art work by Gino Rubert

From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you have been broken. I could see through your skin, I could see her doing. I could see how dire the cracks in your heart were, how dim the light in your eyes was, how your soul is surrounded by a potent dark aura. That’s when I decided, I shall mend you.

I set foot on the prohibited land of your ‘self’, I made an oath to myself that I shall be the one to bring the light back to your eyes. I shall be the saving hand that pulls you back up. I want to proudly say “I taught him how to smile again.” I shall be your remedy, my love shall affix your heart. My touch shall take away your torment.

But you’re pushing me away..

Every time I break your walls, you construct even higher unyielding ones. Your fear of giving me space is exhorting me to try more yet, at the same, fighting myself to not gradually lose hope. I’m not her, don’t profess me for her. I’m breakable just as you are. The only difference is that I have allegiance to mend you..