Street Lights

If you are a traveller (I know we all are ) ,the road is not always paved with the rays of the sun. The street lights are crowned by the stars at night. They invade the way up to where our destination should be.

At those dark times of the day, we all the more appreciate the “stop’s and go’s” , the “slow down’s” and “this way’s”, the glowing sketches along that guides and reminds– signages that are the map that we compromise as our safety.

We, at the end of the day, has our set of people we treat as our streetlights and signboards during our darkest hours.


Hi Reality

the sun was up but her room was in its darkest
when the most awkward smile faded off on its palest
and no matter how she closed her eyes
Reality kept on knocking
oh could you lay down your cards this time?
than play knives with your sugarcoated sayings?

give me  my blanket, my pillows and the truth
are you the flame burning and am I the moth?
I’m not here to beat around the bush
I’m not here to give meanings to your every hush

So I dared, took courage, to let Reality enter
and then I, on that room was at first, bewildered
gazing on how Reality brightened  every corner
atlast! I was awaken from that awful nightmare



She could hear the loudest sound of the breaking of the needle through a fabric of denim cloth, trying to patch up and stitch the split of the textile that shows a part of her skin with scars of fears and longing. She could feel the pinch of pain, undulated by its sharpness and the drop of blood from her fingertips that mixed into the tears dried up through the years of trying hard to make things right again.

She could see the broken strands of the thread like her broken dreams lying asleep into the corner, waiting to be found and awaken.

After a long while, she then picked up all of the stitching tools, wiped away the red liquid, set aside the  busted needle.

Well then, for sure, there will come a time she will patch things up again.

She just need to put her feet up. She just need to hear the loudest sound through the silence of oblivion.


For her…


Photo credit: @karl14

For her, he is the ring on her phone that makes her get up despite of her lazy times.

For her, he is a caution that reminds her to slow down whenever she runs out of calmness with her storms deep inside.

Forher, he was the mirror that creates her best self despite of her ugly days.

For her, he is the breaker of silence when she was choked up with regrets and insecurities.

For her, he is the long spade on the clock that ticks for the every second that counts.

For her, he is her safe haven — a escape, an open diary of her what and whereabouts

For her, he is her morning rays and her late night hiatus

For her, he is her music that serenades and always comforts

But she is a maze and a jigsaw puzzle.

She is a haze,and  at times a riddle.

Still for him, she is his all time favorite song.

and he doesn’t mind reading her notions all along. ❤



All eyes on her

and they started to stare

that deafening silence

are   loud voices glaring 

those asking gazes and rhythmic sighs

those  crazy facade of the norm

caught her captive once in awhile

for  without the crowd, she’s sure about

she could put up her best smile





For this time the clear blue sky, are but blur and gray.
How can the sun smile when the rain covers all its rays?
For this time the leaves once green and vivid– now withered
Why do they sprouted on spring only to fall when the autumn came?
And this time the shore was left by the sea
Why do they met if they aren’t meant to stay?


Head Over Heart

it took her sometime
to think through this sublime
when the choice didn’t rhyme
between what’s in the heart and in the mind

the one cried for the truth
while the other craved and sought
the happiness that it brought
to search what was lost in thought

when the no was half a yes
and the stop was a go unless
the verdict was frantically raised
by the heart that played a mess

when the high descended to low
taming the kindled fire below
to cringe away, put out and blow
by the mind that warned to take it slow

it stayed to be unsaid
but the musing turned into a creed
“when the mind disagreed;
the heart is hard to be freed”

Image From: Pinterest