You & I

You are not who you used to be,

you’d play with my hair till i’d be asleep.

You are not who you used to be,

your eyes speak a thousand sentences more; than your mouth can speak.

you are not who you said you’d be,

breaking every promise like i’d foreseen.

yet i am not who i ought to be,

caught up in who and what i am used to.

Embraced by an alien that comes from the deep.

and i am not who you thought i’d be nor am i…

what am i…

or what…

i ought to achieve.

Darlin’ will we ever be what we’d perceived?



Note: To whomsoever it may concern, my form might be wonky, I write when i feel inspired to. This is a personal Blog.


Entry 01

I’ve been on a serious writers block, 2 years is a long long time but i’m trying to get myself back on a roll.

My creativity and interest in writing sort of got blown out like a candle and i was left for the welcoming of this thing called depression.

I’d be lying if i said i made much progress healing, a lot has been going on and i wish i had the energy to type everything down but i’ll need to conserve my strength to face this absolutely shitty world that we live in tomorrow morning.

I feel exhausted and so out of place, life has only gotten harder after mum’s demise and though i try to find a silver lining, the melancholic psycho within me often prevents me from going through with my positive plans.

I’m really tired with the life i’m living and the disinterest that i’ve got growing against life only seems to be widening the gap between me and my so-called happiness.

I’m trying to keep this vague although i really want to detail, i’m going to stop here and hope that soon i can come up with material for this site.

Au revoir!






Star Gaze

I stared blankly at my notebook, ruled lines ready to be written on, mind hunting for imagination, for a clue, for an idea as to what to do. 

I wanted to write, my mind was overflowing with emotions and thoughts that I wanted so desperately to turn into something beautiful, something innovative. 

But I couldn’t find the words, you see, I  couldn’t quite force sentences to form. I didn’t know where to start. 

My mind stayed preoccupied. 

Do I start with your finger tips, do I draw or do I write about their gentle feel? Do I start with your puckered lips, pecking their way up my hips? Do I start with your hazel eyes, dimmed down to a chocolate brown full of desire and need, making me weak in the knees? 

Or do I start with my bended knees, hunched over heaving like a victim to disease? Do I start with my pleas, my ignorant brain failing to register that you’d fallen prey to your own fate sinister? 

Or do I start with my tenacious demands to hold on to what was left, of the boy I once knew? Nonsense, he still remains intact, inside that body I grew familiar to. 

I still love him, I still love you. I still star gaze, looking for you. 


This isn’t gentle at all
this isn’t what I want
this sadism blazing through your eyes
I’m frightened
I want to leave
I try
I tried
I failed
I hurt

I screamed
you heard
you snickered
you slapped
you pulled
I shook
I crumpled
I cough
I moan
you groan
in pleasure
I sigh
I’m tired
you’re not done
you gag
you tie
you tug
my skin
is done
you snip you snipe
I cry
at least
I try
I tried
I failed
I hurt