And I smile-

And I smile-

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When I think of him, I smile. I smile at my naivety, which some may call, stupidity. I smile at the insane idea, I could have anything- just, about anything. Beauty, brains, career, every single dream accomplished and still have that love by my side. Who was I kidding. I could try, I did try… The moment I grasped one, another slipped right through my fingers. And I smile, I can’t help but smile… It’s the only way I can breathe in air without drops falling out of my eyes.

“It’s me or it”, he said with eyes reflecting the winter weather- they were white and cold, nothing like I’d ever seen. I smile cause I didn’t see it coming. It was either him or it- he placed me in a position to make a ludicrous choice. But to me- he was never a choice, never an option, always a definite.

And at that moment, standing at the junction- I could see his bus moving. He never wanted to stay in the first place. And I let him go… He fluttered away like a newly hatched butterfly and I stood there, trying to make sense with the little rationale left of me. “What just happened?” I found myself asking rhetorically, time after time after time; The only answer- Maybe, they were right. Maybe, I can’t have it all at the same time. 

Image courtesy of : Chapter of my life on tumblr.

Just a teenager-

Just a teenager-

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There was an empty in her laughter,
And less meanings in her words;
Her shoulders- sloped too often,
Closed posture, she assumed;
Heedless to observations,
In a bubble she resides;
Carefree with an air of gloom
Hovering above- she was described.

Lived on the notion love was but
The movies she had watched;
And somewhere In between life threw
Some sunshine in her storm;
For the downer angst filled teen
Displayed emotions ‘stead of words;
‘least that’s what loved ones hoped
Would be the eventuality for-
Anger as hers was consuming
and destroyed the light of soul.

But she’s still a teenage girl,
And lives her life without regard;
And maybe she is satisfied with,
The way her life has panned so far;
There’s lot of road bumps up ahead
The anger’s just begun;
In place of judgement, all she needs-
Is a solid rock to fall back on;
To crash, is inevitable yet the chance
To rise is greatly more-
When knowing there’s someone there
To lend a hand, as you pull back up.

I turned off the comment for this post because I haven’t been able to reply to posts much recently and it’s unfair to have you guys take the time and write such kind words if I don’t reply them on time. I’ve been wrexams since Sunday  but will get back and reply as soon as I can. ❤

image credit: Lelove image

Writer’s Quote: Erin Hanson

Writer’s Quote: Erin Hanson

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And then, there are writers like Erin Hanson. She is a twenty year old Australian (according to google) with hands that weave magic in form of poetic words. I initially came across her works on Pinterest and noticed her initials were E.H . I automatically assumed they meant “Ernest Hemmingway” due to the wisdom and flawlessness of her words. I was quite impressed by Hemmingway, for walking in the skin of a girl and writing from the female point of view for a lot of the poems. Turns out, it was actually written by a female named Erin.

Erin Hanson is one of the few modern poets I enjoy, a second is lang Leav. Every single one of her poems, leaves a message with me. When I hit that dry spell of writing, her words are an inspiration. I find myself thinking, it’d be nice to be as good as her; plus another bonus, she rhymes. If you’ve written poetry before, you’d know it’s not an easy feat to make complete sense, all the time, and still rhyme. Erin Hanson makes it work and I admire her for that.
She has also released a book titled: “The Poetic Underground” which is available on Amazon. Without further adieu, after talking the talk, here’s a poem of hers to walk the talk.

You can write for hours on hours,
Of all the things you wish you could be,
But the truth of the matter is simple,
People are not poetry,
And I know that you wish you weren’t awkward,
That sweet words could roll right off your tongue,
But your time here’s too short just to worry,
How each single sentence is strung,
It’s okay to be rough round the edges,
To be bruised up and broken and scarred,
But it’s not okay to let people tell you,
That it’s a reason to change who you are,
Your hair doesn’t always seat nicely,
The way a poem sits so neatly on line,
And sometimes you might feel like a word,
That nobody has learnt to define,
You might not be a star that lights darkness,
Or a bird that can teach us to soar,
But it’s okay, because you’re too complex,
To be crammed into one metaphor,
It’s okay not to know what you’re doing,
Since your feelings don’t have to all rhyme,
Though a poem once complete is eternal,
You have the freedom to change over time,
You’re much more than can ever be written,
There is no title to say, “This is me”,
You can’t be trapped in the lines of a notebook,
Because people are not poetry.

This post is In response to Writers Quote Wednesday, hosted by Silver Threading.

Flash Fiction: Phantom

Flash Fiction: Phantom

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Old lady Darcy, getting a high five from the ladies. The tales that woman spins from the webs of her mind are a wonder. It makes me want to be like her when I get older, always the life of a crowd.

Walking past is Feisty Fanny. It seems her and Danny boy have had another of their fights. Three kids and no ring. I wonder what you’d say If you heard that about me mama. I guess we’ll cross that ocean when we get there.

The lovebirds at the corner are probably deciding over wedding things. I hear, blonde-Lady Janet says they won’t last cause their’s was a whirlwind romance. She’s over forty and never married, I think that speaks for Itself.

And then there’s me, still the phantom of every crowd. You always said, when I got older I’d be the flower in everyone’s garden. All I had to do is wait. Well, I sure am waiting mama, only thing, you’re not here to see it.


word count: 168 This is my very late response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge. Thank you @thestoryteller’sabode for such a wonderful picture. 

Mental Health Friday #17

Mental Health Friday #17

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“When I moved into my new room at the sober women’s house on July 2, 2012, I was mandated to attend thirty A.A. meetings in thirty days, without exception. It had already begun that people in the program were treating me differently although I did not know why at the time. I felt uncomfortable going to the meetings, in addition to the fact that being forced to go made it difficult with my defiance issues. I have never been in a detox or any other facility where I was told what to do. John went to the meetings with me and I now found it very difficult to sit through the hour meeting now that it was mandated as opposed to being my own choice.”

The above is an excerpt from my last post here.

During the next couple of months, my mind was a whirlwind. It was overwhelming to feel free and on my own. I spent a lot of time talking to my friend Kay at the sober house and talking with John. As I mentioned, he went to the thirty meetings in thirty days with me. To get a slip signed saying I was there, I had to sit through the entire meeting.

One evening, we were at a meeting and I was having an extremely hard time sitting still. At break time, I was about to walk away and give it up when a man I had never met before came outside and sat with me. His name was also John and he talked to me and gave me the hope I needed to go back in. If not for this man who at the time had thirty days of sobriety, I would have walked away at that moment. I thank him for that.

A few days after I had moved out, my ex-husband told me that he was going to have to cancel my health insurance, but that he would wait until I had gotten my own. I knew he was not going to wait. I made the decision to wean myself off of my meds before my ins. was cancelled. It took two months for me to do this. On Aug 29, 2012, my then husband called to tell me that my insurance would be cancelled the next day. If I had not weaned myself off of the medications, I would have ended up in the hospital.

Going to my home group of A.A. became miserable for me. Some people in my group would not look at me and the ones who did insulted me. I didn’t know this at the start, but my ex-husband was telling people that I was manic and out of control. He was also telling people about my eating and sleeping issues. Every Friday, when I went to my home group, I was questioned on my weight. I had been 170 pounds, 40 pounds overweight, due to bloating from the medications and when I stopped them, the bloating had gone away and it was very noticeable. At first people told me I looked good, but one week they simply started to say I was too skinny, that I looked sick. They wanted to know if I was eating and sleeping. I do not go to A.A. meetings for eating.

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Of her mind-

Of her mind-

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She had the most beautiful mind,
A galaxy of infinite stars
In the form of thoughts-
Swirling around,
In her brain’s sulci and gyri-
I wonder,
I just wonder
How one creation could hold
So much genuine-
Creativity
Passion
Intensity
With profound humility.

And she’d smile, bashful
Waving off compliment;
Lower her gaze hiding,
Those caramel eyes- behind
geeky glasses.
And I wish,
Oh I wish,
She could see the view
From where I stand.
She watches the universe
Admiring it’s beauty-
Fade to black
Grow into light
Day and night;
But she,
She holds the most beautiful
Universe-
In that mind of hers.

image credit: the HealthyPlace

Shadow of a dreamer-

Shadow of a dreamer-

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They killed her with their judgement,
Their stinging stares and words;
Murdered her, long before the soul-
Departed earths abode.

They stomped her dreams to rubbles,
And molded theirs with it;
A once hearty laughter echoes-
sorrow buried deep.

They killed her, oh they killed her,
The girl she used to be;
The shadow of a dreamer remains-
They wonder what happened in between.
They’d killed her.

Writer’s Quote: Emily Dickinson

Writer’s Quote: Emily Dickinson

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It’s not often we get the pleasure of an Emily Dickinson’s poem without the metaphor or in depth meaning. Just plain ole simplicity with clear cut message. I was glad I came across the above words of hers on Pinterest this week.

We get so busy, writing, reading, working, making a living; we get carried away, trying to smoothen the rough tracks of our lives and all it takes sometimes, Is a smile on the face of one person to remind us to breathe, even if only for a second. All it takes, is a smile on the face of a stranger to get the wires in our brain to pause from it’s activity and let our face muscles relax to return the gesture. We know a kind word can do a lot, but forget that a smile can do a lot too.

Receiving a smile from a loved one makes us feel good, but from a stranger or someone we just met, it gives us something to think about all through the day. And I’m not talking about those creepy stalker smiles we receive, I mean genuine smiles. When we stay too long at the cashier but the next person on the counter just smiles rather get angry, when we act ridiculously clumsy in public and receive a smile from the stranger across- that’s the kind I’m talking about.

I know, it’s that time of the year when the deadlines are looming. We’ve made a resolution to complete our novel and we’re only a few chapters through the first draft, exams are around the corner for some and end of the year activities are driving us nuts, bottom line is- we’re red neck busy. I just want us to remember that it takes little to smile. And when we do receive one, let’s try our best to pass it on, we never know who might need it. I know, a smile wouldn’t help to finish a novel, but it will help you feel better while completing it.


This post is in response to Writer’s Quote Wednesday. It’s great to be back blogging again and thank you for your wishes. 🙂