And although disappointment has stained my face, I know that one day his eyes won’t awaken the feelings I have inside. I know that his voice will no longer be my favourite song. I know that I will no longer feel his hands on my thighs. And I’ll forget how I pictured his lips tracing down my neck. I won’t be moved by the rememberance of the softness of his mouth pressed against mine. My heart will be freed from the thought of him being my forever. And I know that one day I will look him dead in his face and no longer will I feel a thing.

Let Them Go

“please” I pleaded with him

“please don’t walk away from me” 

I waited on his answer, but he stood there watching as tears poured down my cheeks. 

“say something.. please” I asked in the hope of him saying that I still meant something to him. 

“I can’t do this” was all I heard and the sound of his car speeding off into the black of the night. 

If time has taught me anything it’s that sometimes if someone wants to go, we should let them go. 


I looked at the man who I had fallen so deeply in love with and I tried to figure out what he was thinking, but before I could ask he kissed my lips.

Then, he ran his finger down my spine and his touch sent tons of electricity through my body as he whispered…

“I love you..”

“And I will love you even after every bone in your body has returned to dust.”

Fear & Love

Fear danced in the centre of his eyes every time I got too close to him. I stretched out my hand and rested it on his face. 

The moment our skin touched it was like the world had disappeared and our eyes never left each other. 

why?” I asked “why are you afraid of loving me?”

“I don’t fear loving you” he said 

And continued…

“I fear losing you, because already, I have fallen in love with you”


I have encountered great love, but I’ve also experienced great loss. It’s during these moments that we are transformed into beings that even we no longer recognize.

I’ve seen the sweetest honey turn bitter and how love has brought the toughest soul, onto the knees, begging to be loved in return. 

Then there’s us, the hopeless romantics and the dreamers who after every heartbreak and loss continue to love in the only way we know how. And still, with our hearts on our sleeves, we still hope to find the person to share our greatest gift with; our love.

If I’m Being Honest 

There are parts about myself that I adore, like how I can look at broken people and my eyes can only capture glimpses of beauty. I find their flaws attractive and I find myself falling in love with the parts that they hate. I love the way acceptance of their flaws works like magic, because when you truly love their blemishes they start looking at themselves differently. I love how much love hides in the corners of my smile every time I think about how much I would love someone one day. My love will sink into his veins and it will become the blood that flows through his body. 

Have you thought about that kind of love that moves every part inside of you? It sways those parts to a 90’s beat that makes you believe that someone out there would do things for you that your mind can’t even fathom. The kind of love that makes your soul feel safe and whose heartbeat sounds like home. 

I haven’t given much thought to the physical appearance of the person I dream about falling for, because your eyes can never feel what your heart does. But if I were to think about that person and I mean really think. I would picture him with hands that are big enough to handle our future and soothe both of our pasts. I picture his heart to be strong enough to love me during the times that I doubted my worth. His arms would be my sanctuary and in them love would bloom every day of the year. 

But there are parts about myself that I hate, like when I question my worth as a woman and the things that make me feel undeserving of being with someone mystifying. I hate how I overthink and how my mind goes on these crazy expeditions and it always ends up in an era that doesn’t exist. I hate how my life was only ever filled with temporary people and how I feel the need to cover the parts of myself that make up who I am. I hide them so well, because I know how mind blowing moments only last long enough for you to take your next breath. I hate how I try to prove myself to people by unwrapping parts of myself that they don’t deserve to see, but most of all, I hate the fact that sometimes I forget to love myself.

The Stage 

My heart is like a stage and it lovingly welcomes everyone who passes by. It longs for an audience and it puts on a show for anyone who stays long enough to watch the opening act. 

My heart is transparent. There is no curtain to hide any mistakes or scars or wardrobe change. It fearlessly dances around like a star during the darkness of the night. It puts on one hell of a show. 

My heart is on exhibit. It’s free for anyone to hold and admire. From time to time it gets dropped, but somehow it still manages to shine. I’m surprised it hasn’t changed colour from all the times it’s been stepped on. 

And when the show is over and everyone has seen and touched all that they’ve wanted, my heart is left bruised

There is nobody who claps, or cheers or comes baring roses. I am left alone and I carefully place plasters over the scars of my heart.

You’re Beautiful 

For some reason I could no longer remain silent.

you’re beautiful” I said

She lifted her head, looked at me and asked

where do you see any beauty at all?”

I could tell that she doubtful so I gracefully walked over to her.

over here” I said and placed my hand over her heart.

She wept.

oh little caterpillar” I whispered

I can’t wait for you to spread your wings

I paused, wiped her tears and held onto her so tightly 

“and see for yourself the beauty that I see in you”

A Distant Memory

My mind was oozing with memories.

My lips stained the wine glass almost mimicking the colour of the liquid.

pink” I say to myself

The same colour I wore on the first and only official date I had with him. 

Somehow between our rendezvous I fell for him. I fell in the only way that I knew how. Irrevocably.

My thoughts lingered.

I pictured his arms around me one last time and having to catch my breath I recall the almost kiss. I loved the fact that even with my heels on I still had to stand on my toes to return his embrace.

Could it have been his deep brown eyes and breathtakingly gorgeous smile that made it so hard for me to forget about him?

Or maybe it was the way he made me feel when he held me. Safe.

Perhaps it was his presence…. His presence seemed to calm my soul and made me want to be a better woman. I reminisce on how beautiful the first and only official date was.

roses” I say

I remember roses, the smell of good food and strong coffee drifting in the atmosphere. I couldn’t take my eyes off him that night. I was mesmerized every time he spoke as if stars were dancing on the tip of his tongue.

I couldn’t help but wonder what had gone wrong, but quickly, I reminded myself that sometimes some people aren’t meant to be.

And for a second, my heart stops.

Or perhaps” I say out loud

“Perhaps it was the fact that I always fell for guys who I knew would never fall for me.”