“Trust me, please?”
she says, sprinkling in yearning with a fine hand.
He likes it mildly flavoured, not heavily spiced.
“I trust you implicitly”
he replies.
And she wonders why that hurts worse.
The heart, little glass charm, strung up inside body of dust.
It scratches, chips, it even crumbles but it never gets tougher.
A thick sheet of plastic over a boiling cauldron of black, festering poison. That’s me. A year – that’s how long it takes to grow this. I’ve been in a strange mood all month. I lost the entire month of February, being unwell, asleep and drifting in disoriented confusion through…
I saw a tweet being shared (with a fair bit of bragging about how it went viral on 9GAG). Earlier that day, I chanced upon this article about anal sex: “The Phenomenon of ‘Accidental Anal’“ For those of you who cannot be bothered with reading the article, what I took…
Friends used to be people I could talk to. Now I hang the tag of FRIEND on anyone who lets me be silent.
There is a new breed of people out there and they are a helluva lot better to be around than the others. They are the 30-something war veterans of relationships. They are divorcees. They’ve lived in without marriage and borne the backlash from family, landlords, friends and service people. They’ve…
My best friend got married last week. That deserves a post. But I can’t think of anything meaningful to say. I’ll miss her. She’s not leaving me. But people change after marriage. She won’t. Even if she does, I’ll still love her. Does she know that? She knows everything. Is…
A poem written for Earth Day about climate change
