Finding myself

I collect parts of myself, ones that roll like coins in a silent room. These are messages hidden in some corner, perhaps under the sofa. I put them in a teacup. No cream or sugar there. And I find the flavor of me again.

Fast Forward

One, two, three.

Why are these months behind me?

Spent my time

filling the calender

I never lived.

I got a bit.

Not the juicy mangoes I wanted.

But at least the pit.

Some sweet was stuck to it.

I was hungry and it tasted good.

Now it’s dry.

And I have,

One, two, three

months behind me.

The Old Lady

A while ago,

I realized,

I was not missed anymore.


That day,

I skipped work,

worried sick the boss would call.

The phone never buzzed,

though I held it tight alright.


My friends,

they loved a great party.

The latest grapevine was,

I don’t host them anymore.

I did get a letter.



He said he loved me.

Got gifts from each country’s duty free.

I admired them in that big mansion,

showed them to the walls,

as they looked the other side.


So I sat

in a pavement,

of a nameless street.


when all this began.

When did I stop getting missed.


Then came an old lady,

if one could call her that.

Took a spot next to me,

coz I took hers unknowingly.

After a spell,

she said,

“I have nothing to me,

and for that fancy ring of yours,

I will hear your story”.


I did just that,

and she told me one thing,

“Would you miss the life you made,

for others to miss you so”.


I carry that line,

wherever I go.

And I never realized,

I wasn’t missed no more.




Love Is

Too many exes,

just one love.

It’s real,

a tad surreal.

I suspect a plot.

Eyes tuned in,

searching for cues.

They seem amiss.

Should I give up?

Give in?

Perhaps it’s true.

Perhaps all that’s said of love is true.

I am no pretty flower.

My petals are bruised.


This feeling,

it’s in full bloom.

Nature’s startling hand.




In disbelief,

I think,

“believer I”.

Just Love

When the oceans rise,

and the skies fall.

Where the infinities meet.

An explosion of divinity.

A deafening quietness.


a trickle a time.

The sudden slowness

of love,


A beauty,

within the halo of darkness.