Fiction
The Lives of Invisible People
In the coffee shop watching all the invisible people. The Chinese cellist reading aloud without a sound, the two men nearby trying to flirt inconspicuously,
You’re Never Alone
The idea of a soul mate wasn’t something I subscribed in. And his clumsiness sure as hell didn’t help. But at the age of 19, I was intrigued.
Treading The Fire
maybe beauty will remain an abstract dirge; a mantra to be ruminated over like a submerged leek becoming tender in warm water. as it seems
What is tomorrow?
Tomorrow is that glint in your best friends’ eye, When he proposes a daring plan. Tomorrow is that rainbow glinting in the sky, Reminding you
One
I can feel the evening sun, warm on my face, but the chill of the wind coaxes me to pull my coat tighter around me.
When You Grow Up
I’d rather be a collapsed flower drenched in rainwater; succumbed to the well where wishes weld winning whims. though not alone as the barren heart