Category: Prose

She was always too busy chasing dreams that she had no time to chase people.

I feel like anger is a defence mechanism for people who can’t cope with the hurt they’re keeping in inside.
And it’s somehow emotionally easier to be angry than upset.

Don’t forget that the clouds don’t own the sky;
Just because you can’t see the stars,
doesn’t mean that they’re not there.

I wish we could be honest with each other,
but being honest has only ever started arguments.
Is it wrong for me to want to keep the peace between us?

It is extremely rare that Sleep arrives punctually.

Most nights, he comes in a few hours late.
Some nights, he doesn’t come at all.

And there exists those few nights where he would arrive only after I’ve had a few drinks; he would pry the bottle out of my hand and hold me in his embrace.
But even then, I knew that he wasn’t the one keeping me warm those nights.

Oh Sleep, my unwilling lover, what am I to do about you?

If only painkillers could take away emotional pain too…

You didn’t miss me when I was gone; you only started to miss me when you realized that I wasn’t coming back.

Sleep seems to be nothing but a dream, and I am unfortunately wide awake.

People who don’t write will probably never understand my need to transfer my thoughts to paper.

Sometimes, all we need is a dose of someone else’s rationality because it seems that we are immune to our own.