The illusive L-word

if love is
waking up from a bad dream and having someone beside you to provide comfort
feeling insecure and having that someone reassure you
knowing someone cares how you feel — no matter it be pretty or ugly

then I’m very sure there is love between me and the firstborn
but not so much between me and his father



This home.

not because of what it has
but who lives
in it

not because of how we have
but how life will be
designed here

A sanctuary
where we do not sweat the small stuff
yet appreciate all little things
in joyful spirit

This home
where we will love
and we will live
blissfully ever after

Thank you Lord
for the love
wisdom and everything
bestowed upon us


You’ll never know…

how it feels like to have a little bit of you die, each time it happens.
Until the wounds have cut so repeatedly
and so thoroughly
that the flesh feels completely numb –
devoid of shame, regret, or disappointment.
Until it all just feels so disturbingly comforting.
Yet, the frustration never ever goes away.

What’s here yesterday will still be here tomorrow,
and the day after,
and the day after,
and the day after,
and the day after…
until someone makes it go away.

You never get that.
I never felt you did anyway.

For the millionth time, I ask myself
“Why ever the fuck do I even bother anymore?”

Only to hear my own voice resonating
“Because I need to.”

But you’ll never know what that feels like.

My life…
it’s such a joke.

I wish I could drink til I puked.
All the sad stuff into the sewage.
I wish.

Wanderings of an Idle Mind

It’s funny how
in my mind
the words effortlessly
string into cohesive sentences of
– dare I say –
linguistic superiority.

But when I get down to writing
them all down,
the fluidity escapes me.

A blank mind ensues.

to say the least.

The writer’s mind
only seems to function
while poised in a horizontal state.

I believe
the thoughts of my children,
my sometimes meaningless existence,
this exceptionally long streak of bad,
were supposed to be topics
to be touched upon.

Yet I can’t be sure.

Supposedly about everything,
yet nothing of utmost importance.

The wanderings of an idle mind.
Devil’s playground,
they say.

Things they would never know.

What we have together – through these supposedly pretty short 4.5 years – no one will ever be able to know it all. The injustices we did to each other, the fights, broken furniture, broken hearts, marathon talks about past, present and future.

It’s pretty much like a dramatic 10 year relationship all crammed into our first two years.

We took it fast and, damn, was everything quick. Quick to rise, quick to fall. Super drama stuff.

But like I said before: If I had to go through all that again just to end up here with you, I would do it again. In a heartbeat.

Even if it meant reliving all the fuck-ups in my life before you. All the pain and emotional turmoil. All that shit that no one should ever need to suffer.

I would do it all again just to be right here, right now. With you, and our children.

Would you?


My life, a dark lonely path
until you trod along.
Never will my heart
beat to that same lonely tune again.

You, my light,
my life.
The little flames
of our beautiful children.

Why I love you
I know not.
But best things in life
have no rhyme nor reason.

Deaf ears to naysayers.
You, my love,
and I,
will forever burn as one.

It doesn’t work that way.

you don’t give one today
and take it back tomorrow

there is no invisible scoreboard
for you to track and make even

But it doesn’t work that way.

I cannot cocoon my emotions
to myself

unlike the hermit that is you
i thrive on sharing and unburdening it

But it doesn’t work that way.

I cannot help but feel
like I am being judged by your words

it could be reciprocation of my old deeds
back to haunt me

But it doesn’t work that way.

My body is not my own
the vices call to me

and i succumb willingly
let it take away everything

But it doesn’t work that way.

I don’t want to continue
this painful extraction of the subconscious

I want to run
but I walked like a zombie without a soul

But it doesn’t work that way.

I didn’t want to feel
as if you were nitpicking on me

I tried to tell myself
I was just being too sensitive

But it doesn’t work that way.

there are still fears
to be unearthed

Facing them and letting them go
is like allowing myself to be hurt

But it doesn’t work that way.

I don’t want The Dragon
the man is all I wanted

yet they come together as one
one feeding off the other

But it doesn’t work that way

refusal to admit that I have a fear
that i may be making myself vulnerable

to that which has happened before
to that which may happen again

But it doesn’t work that way.

I am stupid
viewing future in rose-tinted sight
You are
nothing like I thought you would be

the simple wish
of thriving under someone’s love and care

But it doesn’t work that way.

There is no love until you make yourself worthy of it.
And to you, I am not worthy.

the cause of your unhappiness
your fears
your worry
your stress
your burden

I am… unworthy.
And I hurt so much.

crossroads of logic, emotion and duty

see what we got ourselves into again.
Nothing but to make a choice.

Not brave enough to tread the same way,
not determined enough to go the other.

Standing here,
facing the same crossroad again.

This time a burden on my back,
one who wants a route different from mine.
Selflessness is not a virtue I own.

I’m torn.
Broken into two.

You should have taken me along with you when you left.

Now you leave me here
to mourn
for the loss of you,
and the ones before you.

How many more holes can this heart take?

I don’t know
and I’m not sure I want to find out.

Give me faith so I will try again.
Courage to attempt the unknown.
Oh the joy it would bring…

I’m just not sure if I can take it again.

I can’t pretend nothing happened,
yet I know not how to tell anyone.

I want to take off this mask
just be who I want
with my tear-stained face.

Why me again?

I have to seek closure.
I just can’t pretend this never happened.

Continue reading

fireworks and a nightlight

Boy has recently acquired a new nightly habit. He would switch on his own night light slightly before 10pm, and grab his little pillow through the bars of his wooden cot. He would then crawl to the living room, holding his pillow in his mouth as he needed his hands to crawl.

He looks like a cute little puppy whenever he does that. Highly adorable, and so very innocent.

Tonight, we heard fireworks being released somewhere not too far away. There were those familiar booming sounds, and craned our necks out the windows in desperate hope to see a few. No such luck. 😦

As I tucked him into bed, his room glowing a warm yellow from the night light, I heard the fireworks still going on.

It sounded like the end of the world. It was frightening.

I swore the earth shook and something scary was emerging from somewhere, waiting to devour everyone and put an end to the human race.

Or maybe, I was just having yet another panic attack.

I tried to think about the cute way he chewed with an audible “nomnomnom” sound when we were sharing tuna sandwiches for dinner. And the way he cheekily refused to let me hold his hand as we watched TV. And the way he laughed so heartily when I sneezed three times consecutively.

But it didn’t ease the fear away.

I don’t have an existential problem. I don’t think I ever would. What I do have a problem with, is how I have a fear of human existence coming to an end. It’s a feeling that has haunted me for years, and is gradually growing stronger as if it was getting closer to being reality.

It was not entertainment when I watched The Day After Tomorrow. It was fear. Gripping fear that left me breathless and pale. It is such a frightening movie that I would avoid watching it again.

I know that if one day something of massive destructive proportions was to happen, I probably would not run. I would cradle my baby in my arms and sing him his favourite lullabye as we part this world with the rest of the human race.

baby sleeps

My baby’s silhouette shone
in the light of the night

adorable chubby cheeks
beautiful facial features
in minuscule perfection

mouth wide open
breathing the deep sleep

tiny hands clutching
pillow in one
bear in another

he stirred
flipped over onto his front

by my intrusion
into his rain-swept room

sometimes I forget
the reality

that he was smaller before
and soon
he will only get bigger

in my own selfish mind
I only wish he was tiny forever

always looking to me
always close to me
always my baby

I could never describe this love
in plain words


When things go wrong
my feet develop wanderlust.

The home is no longer a safe haven.
Not when I already am kept here more than I’d like to.
Not when I want more out of this.
This home is not a sanctuary.

A place to confine me to my daily duties.
A place where I am forced to face up to issues I don’t want to face.
A place where it takes so much effort to balance all the delicate issues.

You can always quit a job if you’re not happy.
You can’t just quit like that.

There’s no thought more tempting than to just dress up and get out.
To a club where the music is louder than my thoughts
and my brain ceases to think logically after ample alcohol.

The temporal freedom of not having a working brain.
The loss of need to analyse situations and come up with solutions.

Or embark on those journeys to nowhere.
Just to plainly walk aimlessly in the quiet breeze of the night
and indulge in the soft music singing in my ears.

A silent world, where the people sleep
and I
am the only one awake.

The cigarettes and alcohol are never here
when you need them.

Forced into solitude.