If they agree. 

“Oh darling, 

I know you want me there. Closer to each breath you exhale and even closer when you inhale. I know you want to be able to pull me  out like handwritten letters on a day you are craving meaning. I know you want to touch every fibre of my being and turn Sparks into an emergency fire. But try convincing these ears that don’t hear you say these words. The hands that stretch for you but don’t reach your fingers even when you’re near and the legs that pretended it needed crutches. If they agree, I’ll agree”

Photo by Mark Del Mar


Old park

“Soon we won’t need any of this. There won’t be a need for you to disperse into thin air. Everything will stop. You heart won’t be  dodging feelings that my words bring to your head. You wouldn’t find me swinging in the old park of rejection. Love, I will be suffocated from your absence that had already started to consume me”

Forgetting how to swim

When I was taught to swim, they expected me to learn how to move from one end to another in water without drowning, but all I really wanted to learn, was to float, be stagnant, head facing the sky, eyes fixed on a carpet of cloud. Years later, here I am, floating, being stagnant, eyes fixed on you, but all I really want to do is hold my breath under water, flap my legs faster and move. Move away from you or move towards you. Either direction, the need is to keep moving.