A Processed Past

T, I have told you this before. The honesty in your writing is so tragic but beautiful. I don’t know how you can be so honest with your words. I am not honest with my words. A lot of times my words are a reflection of things past and feelings felt. Nothing is ever present…

Unnoticed Departures

L, I looked up from the book I was reading to see this woman who had a passing resemblance to Scarlett Johansson. Our brown eyes met briefly and I looked away, almost shy that I’d been caught staring, and then I returned my eyes to the book in my hand. Yesterday an intern walked into…

Hurricanes in my spine

You were not careless enough for me. Even in your love. You loved gently. Softly. I wanted something more careless. Carefree if you will. Reckless. I wanted your elbows. Your bruised knees. Your scarred back. But you were fingers and palms. You were stroking. You were wind brushing softly against my hair. I wanted hurricanes…

Why your knees so weird??

T, My first rejection was not from a lover or a boy i liked. It was not in highschool either, it was in my primary school. Remember those dreadful white P.E shorts we were made to wear? We were in the school bus on the way to school in the morning. I had just gotten…

Black Squares

L, People have a habit of attaching great significance to firsts: first kisses, first touch, first dates, the first time you see her naked, the first time your baby walks – the list is lengthy. As with most things in life though, the list of sad firsts is almost as long, if not more than,…