I Knew

The day I met you, I didn’t know.

Your eyes reminded me of the oceans I had yearned to drift away in for so long. They sparkled like the sun reflecting off the waves whenever you glanced in my direction. They grew stormy and tumultuous when you realised that life would never let us keep each other. Like the ocean, I was both terrified of and in love with you.

Your touch set me aflame, from the surface of my skin to the deepest fibres of my soul. Your mouth was hungry and desperate, as you tried to devour every inch of me, like someone who had been starved for years or would never taste such sweetness again. You caressed my body as though it was the most beautiful thing you had ever laid your hands on. As we molded to the shape of each other like clay, I had never felt more real, more alive.

Your voice always made me think of velvet, rich yet soft. You spoke with such conviction that I wondered if you had ever been uncertain of your place in this world. The day you told me you loved me, though, your voice was barely a whisper and it shook with every word. I knew in that moment that, while I constantly felt like the vulnerable one, I was perfectly capable of shattering you too. In the end it was a mutual destruction with a force that matched the mutual attraction.

Your very existence in my life was wrought with controversy, with people wondering what I saw in you. But God, you were not the vapid shell they seemed to take you for. I saw your passion and your violence. I felt your warm embrace and the ice in your veins. You were filled with dreams and fears that were so much like my own. I understood you better than I understood myself. We were two souls, dancing together in the cosmos.

It’s been years since we parted ways, too tired to continue hurting each other. I can still picture the exact shade of your eyes. I can still feel the tips of your fingers and the heat of your breath. I can still hear your voice, calling out to my heart, begging for the love we both believed we deserved. And no matter how much distance and time tries to pry us apart, you are mine and I am yours eternally. When I look back to the moment that started it all, I realise what I’m sure I was convinced of all along:

The day I met you, I knew.

Toxic Love

She stared at him like he was the embodiment of every star in the cosmos.

In truth, he was just one, he was her sun

And the moment her life stopped revolving around him,

He burnt her world to ashes


She stared at him like he was water in the desert,

But he didn’t stop once her thirst had been quenched.

He enveloped her, making every breathe difficult

And drowned her in his toxic love.


She glanced at him and tasted blood in her mouth,

The man she had loved with all her soul,

The man who had shown her how cruel people could be.

She turned away and felt empty.

Murderer in My Mind

I see her and it happens.

I don’t mean to think this way.

She just has an apocalyptic effect on me.


She gently adjusts her tie.

I imagine it slowly tightening,

As her face turns an oxygen deprived shade of blue.


She delicately tips water into her mouth.

I picture her gasping for air,

As I hold her head below the surface.


She absently twirls the scissors in her hand.

I consider plunging into her throat,

As the life gradually oozes out of her body.


I will never really hurt her,

But the damage is done.

She has made me a murderer in my mind.



I have a really strange obsession with the concept of hate. I don’t have much personal experience with it. The one person I was apparently supposed to hate, I never could. And the one person I truly hated, I’m not so sure I hate them anymore. Hate is a strong emotion and we need to be careful with where we direct it. The consequences can be catastrophic.

My Best Friend

I’m not really afraid of much

But she terrifies me.

She exposes me,

Unravelling my secrets

Like a loose thread.


I’ve always been a strong person

But she makes me vulnerable.

She effortlessly knocks down my carefully constructed walls,

Leaving me unshielded and defenseless,

Yet I’ve never felt more safe.


I don’t trust anyone

But she is a beacon of faith.

She holds my soul in the palm of her hand,

Knowing how delicate it can be,

but she would never shatter me.


My love is exclusive,

A commodity not afforded to many,

But she has earned it

And she will always have it.

She is my soul mate.

She is my best friend.



So this is my first entirely nonfiction piece. My best friend has seen the absolute worst of me, but she has never wavered in her love and support. So this was just a homage to her, who’s always been there for me and cheered me on in everything I’ve done.

Before I Saw Him

I heard him before I saw him.

His voice was richer than a golden throne,

Smoother than dripping honey,

As he whispered sweet nothings into my ear.


I smelt him before I saw him.

His scent of sandalwood and musk,

Strong and comforting,

As he lingered beside me.


I felt him before I saw him.

His lips traced flames across my skin,

Leaving scorch marks in their wake,

As his hands marked me for him alone.


I tasted him before I saw him.

His delectable essence danced in my mouth,

Quickly becoming addictive,

As our bodies intertwined in the dark.


I loved him before I truly saw him,

And that was my fatal mistake.

What do you think about loving blindly? Can we truly be in love with someone before we really see who they are?

The Best of Me

Who am I?

It seemed like such a simple question

I always knew the answer

Until I met you.

Now I’m not so sure.


I gave you the best of me.

So what exactly is left?

An empty shell perhaps

Or a vacant house.


No! Some still remains.

But maybe I would be better without

The excruciating pain,

The overwhelming self-loathing,

And mountains of regret that now fill me.


I gave you the best of me.

Surely that should mean that you are improved,

That you are twice the person you were.

Or did you throw it away just like you did me?



Swept Away

“I hate when people sweep things under the rug” you say.

Mother, how dare you

When that is exactly what you have done to me?

It was probably easy at first,

A mood swing every now and then.

With time, it got a little tougher,

Sleeping too much and eating too little.

As I turned sixteen, the real struggle began

When you found out about the man who violated my body and soul.

And when the darkness consumed me completely,

You simply swept me away too.

Now I linger alone below the surface.

I can’t remember the last time I came up for air,

Only that the fight was not worth the blinding light.

“I hate when people sweep things under the rug” you say.

Why then, Mother, have you left me there to rot?



Hi everyone. I apologise for not posting yesterday. I’m trying to figure out a schedule for how frequently I will be uploading. In the meantime, I am working on an interesting new project which will hopefully be posted within the next few days. If you enjoy it, I may consider making it into a mini series.

Love Shouldn’t Hurt That Much

In the first grade, I hung onto my best friend’s coat as she was rushed to the hospital with a cracked rib and a bloodied nose. When the doctor asked what has happened, I related with horror how a boy had pushed her down the stairs, seemingly with no provocation. The doctor responded with words that would cause bile to rise in my throat years later: “He probably likes you”. My best friend and I stared at him in amazement before glancing at each other, eyes shining with this new revelation. In that moment, it felt like we had been given wisdom far beyond our years. How wrong we were… Armed with my new knowledge, the next time I had a crush on a boy, I promptly proceeded to kick him in the shin. That day, I learnt another lesson, that the same rules don’t apply for boys and girls. I was severely punished and the boy had no idea I liked him. So it was understood: boys used their fists to show affection but girls could not.


At the age of fifteen, my best friend had her first boyfriend. His devotion painted her skin black and blue. Four months later, his passion was so strong that he bashed her head into a wall one too many times. As her body was lowered to the ground, I thought “At least she was loved”. He mourned for a week, I would grieve for the rest of my life, and the doctor would remain oblivious to the havoc his words had wreaked. Then I met you. For the next 4 years, as you broke my body and crushed my soul, I kept thinking about how much you loved me. I tried to remember that when my bones ached and my heart shattered under the weight of your violence. I tried to remember that when the people around me told me to leave you before you entirely decimated me. Through all of this I wondered why love was considered such a beautiful thing when all it seemed to reap was pain, loss and desolation.


One day, I came across a quote I would only later learn was from a popular TV show. It resonated to the very core of my being and changed everything I thought I knew about the world. “You don’t destroy the person that you love!” I found myself completely disoriented. If love was no longer synonymous with the carnage I had grown used to, then what did it really mean? Seeing you for the monster you were was neither joyous nor liberating. I was alone in an unfamiliar world, and love was a concept now too abstract for me to grasp. I yearned for your touch, as harsh as it had been, and I found myself returning to you all too often. Rather the devil you know, I told myself.


While you certainly did not love me, my feelings for you were both fierce and true. For months, I thought you were the only love I knew, but things started to change when I took a closer look at my life. There was love in the way my mother made cookies for my birthday, because she knew I preferred them over cake. There was love in the long conversations that my dad and I would have about football, the only thing we had in common. There was love in the beautiful pictures my sister drew for me, of all the things she knew I enjoy. There was love in the hugs my best friend gave me, gentle but strong reminders that I was never as alone as I may have felt. I realised that your faux love was a sad, empty excuse for the real thing, a dull impersonation of the vibrancy that soon filled my life.  And when I met the man who would soon reveal himself as my soulmate,I finally plucked up the courage to him tell of the darkness in my past. As we sat under the stars, he simply said “Love shouldn’t hurt that much”. And with the ghost of a smile playing on my lips, I agreed.  


If you or anyone you know is at risk, please don’t hesitate to seek help. I personally use 7cupsoftea because its anonymous but here are some other useful hotlines and websites:

Depression Hotline: 1-630-482-9696
Suicide Hotline: 1-800-784-8433
LifeLine: 1-800-273-8255
Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386
Sexuality Support: 1-800-246-7743
Eating Disorders Hotline: 1-847-831-3438
Rape and Sexual Assault: 1-800-656-4673
Grief Support: 1-650-321-5272
Runaway: 1-800-843-5200, 1-800-843-5678, 1-800-621-4000
Exhale: After Abortion Hotline/Pro-Voice: 1-866-4394253
Child Abuse: 1-800-422-4453
UK Helplines:
Samaritans (for any problem): 08457909090 e-mail jo@samaritans.org
Childline (for anyone under 18 with any problem): 08001111
Mind infoline (mental health information): 0300 123 3393 e-mail: info@mind.org.uk
Mind legal advice (for people who need mental-health related legal advice): 0300 466 6463 legal@mind.org.uk
b-eat eating disorder support: 0845 634 14 14 (only open Mon-Fri 10.30am-8.30pm and Saturday 1pm-4.30pm) e-mail: help@b-eat.co.uk
b-eat youthline (for under 25’s with eating disorders): 08456347650 (open Mon-Fri 4.30pm – 8.30pm, Saturday 1pm-4.30pm)
Cruse Bereavement Care: 08444779400 e-mail: helpline@cruse.org.uk
Frank (information and advice on drugs): 0800776600
Drinkline: 0800 9178282
Rape Crisis England & Wales: 0808 802 9999 1(open 2 – 2.30pm 7 – 9.30pm) e-mail info@rapecrisis.org.uk
Rape Crisis Scotland: 08088 01 03 02 every day, 6pm to midnight
India Self Harm Hotline: 00 08001006614
India Suicide Helpline: 022-27546669
Kids Help Phone (Canada): 1-800-668-6868, Free and available 24/7
suicide hotlines;
Argentina: 54-0223-493-0430
Australia: 13-11-14
Austria: 01-713-3374
Barbados: 429-9999
Belgium: 106
Botswana: 391-1270
Brazil: 21-233-9191
China: 852-2382-0000
(Hong Kong: 2389-2222)
Costa Rica: 606-253-5439
Croatia: 01-4833-888
Cyprus: 357-77-77-72-67
Czech Republic: 222-580-697, 476-701-908
Denmark: 70-201-201
Egypt: 762-1602
Estonia: 6-558-088
Finland: 040-5032199
France: 01-45-39-4000
Germany: 0800-181-0721
Greece: 1018
Guatemala: 502-234-1239
Holland: 0900-0767
Honduras: 504-237-3623
Hungary: 06-80-820-111
Iceland: 44-0-8457-90-90-90
Ireland: 1800-247-100
Israel: 09-8892333
Italy: 06-705-4444
Japan: 3-5286-9090
Latvia: 6722-2922, 2772-2292
Malaysia: 03-756-8144
(Singapore: 1-800-221-4444)
Mexico: 525-510-2550
Netherlands: 0900-0767
New Zealand: 4-473-9739
New Guinea: 675-326-0011
Nicaragua: 505-268-6171
Norway: 47-815-33-300
Philippines: 02-896-9191
Poland: 52-70-000
Portugal: 239-72-10-10
Russia: 8-20-222-82-10
Serbia: 21-6623-393
Spain: 91-459-00-50
South Africa: 0861-322-322
South Korea: 2-715-8600
Sweden: 031-711-2400
Switzerland: 143
Taiwan: 0800-788-995
Thailand: 02-249-9977
Trinidad and Tobago: 868-645-2800
Ukraine: 0487-327715
Uruguay: 095 73 8483



Crystal teardrops glistened across her cheeks,

As beautiful as they were painful.

They hesitated before rolling off her face,

Afraid to shatter like delicate glass

And realise they were not indestructible diamonds.

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