Blue Waters

Time,
is like a river
with strong currents,
and I am a rock
between it.

I wonder if
I will find
pieces of myself
eroded away
through these years
scattered unto
streams and lakes
and finally the ocean.

How will I
ever remember if
a part of me
reaches the
blue waters?

How will I know if
my memory
floats unto the surface
splashed by the
passing ships?

And a piece of me
still remains
where it began,
right at the rivers
waiting to be
carried away time and again.

Space

If you were an artist

and I was an object,

what space would I

occupy in your canvas?

Would I be a fruit on the table

or a shadow beneath?

Or the painting inside the painting

or the floor spread all across?

Would you care

to splash your paint

and make space for me?

Peeled Skin

Layer after layer,
skin everywhere
peeled from one another.

As the layers are gone
so are the burdens with it.
Everything’s lighter now.

The peeling, indeed tough,
but the result much better.


I identify myself as an introvert. Much of my life I believed I couldn’t walk up and strike a conversation with anyone. Why would anyone ever want to listen to my awkward words. So I stayed put. It harmed me most of all. I closed myself to opportunities and ideas that could not just interest me but enchant me. I’m thankful the jobs I’ve taken up somehow requires me to break the barrier by peeling my own skin. Painful it was and it still is, but I enjoy it better. I know how wonderful things can be. I look on the brighter side now.¬†

Magic

Waiting for magic,
magic in the eyes,
magic that flies
across skies.

Magic, because
it’s improbable
next to impossible.
Magic, because
it’s implausible
every piece breakable.

More than ever
magic, because it
is not fixable.

Magic that seems
to have travelled
circumference,
but to the center
indifferent.

Magic for
it makes everything
solvable,
believable.

Magic,
for once.