I saved you a seat

at the park we used to sit.

Here lie all the remains of what we had,

the memories;

the dried fallen leaves, the autumn breeze,

the footprints on the snow,

the cherry blossom petals, the floral scent,

the warmth of your hands.


Here we used to be


Spending the quiet nights,

sharing the silence,

breathing air of the past

but living in the present.


I knew you wouldn’t come.

I guess it’s time…





You’re a maze with no end.

I’m lost. Clueless.

And without realizing,

I’m losing hours of my sleep; analyzing.

Yet still can’t crack you.

You’re one hell of a mystery.

I want to go inside your mind.

I want to figure it out.


I want to figure you out.

Epiphany (3)

It was a chilly afternoon when I strolled down the street.

My leg hurt and my back was sore but I insisted to keep walking with no direction.

Just looking at the buildings, the people, the faces that looked back at my face curiously.

Because even after years I’ve been here, I know I’m still a stranger to this country.

And this city still feels foreign to me.


So many things changed after I’ve moved in.

I hate change…

or maybe I just wasn’t ready.


I really thought that I hate this city…

Turns out I am the one I really hate.


The thread that ties her wrists


like shafts of bright

lunar eclipse light that pierced

sharply through her pointless entity


Red thread

around her wrist

Lacing the tragedy with serendipity

Entwining the serenity with desolation

Engulfing the misery with destruction


when will she be free?

A Reminder

To listen to chirping birds in the morning

To let the sunshine warm your cheeks

To run your fingers in meadow

To enjoy the breeze that washes over your face

To look up to the sky and gaze at the stars

To never take every single thing for granted

To take a deep breath

To take one step at a time

To never give up on yourself

To never lose yourself


Wide awake at 3 AM.

Went to bed crying and woke up cursing.

Never miss a day without questioning my existence.

Why am I living? Why can’t I disappear?

Is this what they call existential crisis?

No, you don’t have to tell me…

I know this is depression.


They say I need a therapy.

Worse, they say I need to be a believer…

They always tell me to do things

Yet never tell me how.

Worse, they just leave me alone to figure it out…


It’s just

Every time I look at the mirror

I only feel disdain.


If you were me,

Would you hate myself too?