Scratches

Minor pleasures we gain from

Minor inflictions

Not deep purple bruises

Or gushing wounds

Mere scratches

That you mayn't even notice

Until the lime you cut

For a sambol

Stings

Minor inflictions, we tell ourselves

Don't matter

Won't leave a scar

Guilty pleasures, these are

We wouldn't even admit

But it's true, isn't

Guilty of it, I am

Just as you are

Look at us,

Hurting each other

For some fleeting pleasure

Termites

You'll find yourself

One day being thankful

Or even pleased of

The life carved for yourself 

Out of wood left for the

Termites

It's all good,

You'll be telling

Yourself 

It's all good.

forget me (not)

twice this month

i have forgotten we are now strangers

something small online

making me want to talk to you

a mutual friend (though i guess

i can't call them this anymore)

or something you liked (do you

still like the same things?)

this world we live in now

apart

is so quiet

so still

lonely, even

love

how fickle the heart is

flitting from one love to another

as if yesterday's love didn't have us

aching for more

but today, our heart blooms

for another

and tomorrow, a different palm will

rest against ours

a different heart

making ours beat faster

stay

"Stay"

I want to tell you

As your arms wrap around me

But our goodbyes are wordless

And so, we are both silent

I wonder,

Quite often,

What if I ask

What would you say?

Would you stay?

Reunion

The death knell sounds from the house opposite ours

A life that has been withering away has finally breathed its last

And someone from the past resurfaces, taking unsure steps

Towards a present we don't know each other in

Arrack warms our bones, fills our laughter with an added something

Joy, I think to myself, happiness, love, friendship

The ease of it takes me by surprise, but then, some things are just easy, aren't they?

And outside, the rain falls and falls, the wind is cold, the skies grey

And beyond, lives come together, part ways, reunite, bid farewell

And you and I? What of us?

Does it even matter?

Mind tricks

When I am so very tired

And I've stayed up far too long

My mind plays tricks on me

I see things that aren't there

A mouse scurries across a counter

Mosquitoes dart this way and that

Roaches run on the floor

Ants scattered on a wall

Your body warm against mine

Arm pulling me closer to you

Kindness in your words

Affection in your touch

Mine

Our intimacy existed in a vacuum

The early hours of the day

And if you ever asked me if I wished

For things to have been different

Adamantly, I would have said no

And yet, there is one moment

I've never told you or anyone about

You stood at the doorway of your bedroom

Looking straight at me

You stopped, just for a moment

Perhaps switching off the bathroom light

i don't remember

You stood there naked, looking at me

As I lay on your bed

Perhaps I smiled at you then

Everything felt so light, golden

These early hours of the day that were ours

There was a softness to what I saw

Your almirah, ajar

A backpack on a chair, clothes on the floor

And then, you, standing there,

Looking at me

And just for a moment,

I wanted more

God, I wished you were mine

Gingie Biscuit

Gingie is too often hangry, meowing complaints about

A lack of food - even though her bowl is so rarely empty

Sometimes, she will bite or scratch in protest

Of how badly she is (supposedly) treated in our house

And yet, when she finally found her way home

After a two-week absence that left our hearts aching

And our feet too, after long searches in the neighbourhood

Her eyes reflected the relief and joy that surely she saw in mine

This cat, ginger and clingy, annoying but affectionate, had come back

Even though she could have found a new home, like she had claimed ours years ago,

Forcing us to open our doors and hearts to her when we had already

Decided we had had enough with the pain that comes with a feline's death

And now she sleeps on my bed, tummy rising up and down

While I work on my laptop right next to her, thinking:

This is the life I want - this love and contentment that comes with

Sharing your house with a (mostly hangry) cat that only has love to give

Word of the day: hangry
feeling irritable or irrationally angry as a result of being hungry

glass

The glass dish that belonged to my grandmother

exploded when I poured cold batter into it

to make goddamn toad in the hole for dinner

I say exploded, but it made the faintest sound and

suddenly there, on the table, a mess of broken glass

and dripping batter and blistered sausages

I know what happens when you pour cold into hot

I had read about exploding bakewear so many times

and yet, it just never occurred to me tonight

And so, a new batch of batter whisked and poured into a different dish

and placed in the oven

I sat on my bed, trying not to cry

thinking about how unkind life had been lately

taking and taking and taking

giving too, but mostly, taking

and I thought, 'One more bad card dealt

and I will be done. Just done.'

And then I thought about how I'd thought this very same thing

a few weeks ago

but so many bad things had happened since

and here I was, still.

They talked about resilience and perseverance and strength

when I had to put on a brave face and pretend everything was fine

and I would think about how it had

nothing to do with bravery

we got through one bad day after another

not because we wanted to

or still had some fight left in us but because

we had to.

You know, it never occurred to me but when things between us died down

an inevitability given the one-sided-ness of our feelings

I expected the end to be dramatic and explosive and loud

but it wasn't. It was so underwhelming

almost like it didn't even happen

everything seemed fine one minute

and the next,

it was all gone.