FEATURED POST

When wind blows For you, It sings in your ears. It touches your skin. For me, It clears my brain. It resets me. It talks to me. Today is different. It moves through me. I feel it in my veins, in my blood. It speaks to me With every heartbeat. Something’s changed. It’s good.

We constantly think. A river a thoughts, a sea of contemplation When something comes to mind, you place it somewhere, you store it. I see my brain as a basket. It has space for each and everything— emotions, stories, facts, memories Sometimes my baskets don't hold things the way it should They slip through the cracks. They end up where they don't belong I move them, I push them But without conscious realization, my thoughts consume me. From top to bottom, you find yourself lo

How do I express pain? It is through metaphors. Nature is the one who I trust better than myself to hold my pain and my happiness. Nature is who I trust to see me, as I see it as my reflection. The cracks in the leaves, the vibrant and dull colours. The patterns we see everyday and in every season. The consistency found in the sun setting every day and rising the next. The music coming from within and the things that surround us. The stillness it faces without wind and the ch

Imagine waking up numb, Your arms heavy and weak, Your eyes sealed shut. The sun beaming through your window, Piercing through your eyes — But still… numb. Your body lies, Sinking through the mattress. Feeling every ounce of spirit, leaving you, Every ounce of anything disappearing There is nothing you are remembering The appeal you once saw — gone The stress levels once felt—gone The anxiety once felt—gone There is no name for the feeling that remains But I like to call it H

So many of us spend years trying to be "true to ourselves" But end up cutting ourselves into little pieces, Molding each version to fit certain crowds. I'm now so cut, so divided, Just because I thought I wasn't allowed— Wasn't allowed to just be. There is something that speaks to all of us, We can't see it, But we hear it, loud and clear. My eyes deceive me, The same way we believe we deceive others. Sometimes I ask myself: What if these parts of me don't get along—do I lose

She doesn't say I love you like everyone else. Instead, she'll shake her head, give a little smile and say You're so silly. She sees you even when you don't see her. You fill her dreams, But it was never what it seemed. Every time she opens her eyes, She realizes they were lies. Her dreams fixating on the fear she's working through, The fear that's been stopping her from loving purely. She has a beautiful soul, but not many get to see it. I see the way she flourishes when sh

Am I supposed to be a mother? Am I supposed to be a wife that curates the life of the people around her? Am I supposed to be the one to heal everyone’s pain but her own? Am I supposed to take out the loan? To lend out my happiness to others and wait untill get it back? Am I supposed to travel the world and use my voice as a power, Speak as loud as I can, preventing anyone to feel any lower, Preventing anyone from feeling any poorer, Be the sorter to sort everyone’s feelings