Just that Simple

I’ve sought simplicity for as long as I can remember but I have a bad habit of giving in to their begging for a narrative. Subconsciously, I’ve been tricked into thinking that what I needed was cohesion so I began piecing gloom together into chaos. While others were creating illusions of a stable universe, I was living life 10 feet off the ground on a tittering ladder. I wanted there to be significance in my pain. I wanted to believe that I deserved something because I was thrown into mishaps. So I romanticized victimhood. But in came self pitying that didn’t really agree with the knowledge of my own self worth so I became split confused as to who I was supposed to be.
Then you came into my story with your hand out asking me to dance. I thought it was ludicrous how you couldn’t understand that I was going miles riding my storms. And I watched you close your eyes and smile with your hands in the air and your hips swaying to the rhythm of the simplicity that I thought I knew. I told you, you were just ignoring your problems because in my eyes I thought I was doing the utmost charging into my anxieties heads on. You pulled me in anyways and I realized, truly truly realized, that this was what I was looking for all along. That life is as simple and as sweet as you make it out to be.

All love, blissinlace

If you

If you can’t sleep tonight,

know that I am not doing any better wandering in the perilous desert.

I am the water-bearer quenching the thirst of the passerby.

losing myself 600 light years away while you have my heart in a choke-hold.

If you are with another tonight,

Know that I know I am a fool for letting you play me till I’m high-strung.

I am the guitar you’ve tightly tuned again and again,

Threatening to break with every chord you strum.

If you are on the phone with me tonight,

know that every silence after your question is me suffocating.

I am the bird that died mid-flight,

flew for days without a safe place to land.

If you think of me tonight,

I’m one call away. Please don’t let me fade.



Hey pseudo man,

Aren’t you tired of sitting in your bleak little room playing with kaleidoscopes?

Now I finally see how you try to reflect other’s poignant colours onto your black and white life.

You made a fool out of me. Made me bring my palette, eager for you to spend perfunctory moments with me.

But all I got was your angry splashes of disarrayed watercolour. Diluted. The colours dripped down from my face blending into a mess of brown.

I dipped my finger in my palette of pigmented oil colours, traced the outline of your lips and left.

I don’t play dirty sweetheart.


West Dundas

Here the sun rises in green. A pine-tree green. It carries fresh mints in the air, ready for that morning kiss. But my heart is in West Dundas getting lost in the streets caged between sky high buildings.

I think back to the lights bouncing off the snow onto your face. I think back to the ease of my mind in that art gallery when I laid my head on your shoulder.

But I am a thief.

I ran, taking our moment leaving you with nothing but my shadow.

I’ve become a stranger again.


Lingering Embers

{to E.D, thank you for the story}:

There you were again today. You asked me if I remembered you as if I come across someone like you that often.

When I moved here 3 months ago, something changed. I think growing up for me is stumbling around and finding myself chatting with strangers in coffee shops. Sometimes it’s just small talk but there are times when I come across people like you. Those who are burning bridges and looking for someone to share the warmth of loss with. I thought maybe my aura still lingers the embers from when I burned mine. But you shook your head and said honey attract bees.

Your story is one told one too many times. Desensitized. But it wasn’t black and white like how they are in the news. Clichés become clichés when they are real. But nothing is more real from the heartache in your wide eyes as you explained how you faced your friend’s interrogations. Why did your wife run off to New York?

But honestly… no one needed the answer, they already knew.

I’d like to think that the better part of the story is how you can now tell the tale without faltering. And how you learned that her change of heart wasn’t due to you. I nodded and smiled because I know what it’s like to be everything you think they want when all they wanted was freedom.

So I stood beside you, watched the ashes drift in the air and listened as the fire crackles. What you didn’t know was that there’s an argument in me. I don’t want to be the honey that attract bees. It’s too risqué, even for me.

I can’t help pocketing emotions for keepsake and let them combust. I might as well be wearing a suicide vest.



I ride around most nights

buses, trains

Figured I’ve got the time to spare.

And I act like I’ve seen it all

Challenging the glances of strangers.

So I sit there on my morals, night by night, hoping that they’ll get me by. I write about you with ink that bleeds hatred and then I crumple them up.

The city’s trash cans overflow with the things I want to argue with you about. But hey, you’ll never know because when the sun rises, I will still send you that morning text filled with love because it still feels wrong to give it to someone else.

I wonder why I am so afraid of losing you when you’ve already lost me.



We ran at a neck-break speed, pretending we don’t see our half-buried secrets.

To the wind, whispers of urgency pleaded to blow the evidences into the Atlantic.

The begging persisted till the moon blindfolded us. All because we didn’t dare seeing ourselves when we aren’t adorned with the stars.

And we weep, self pitying but never reflecting.

It’s just for the night, it’s just for the night. we kept repeating, staying in the dark for all of our eternity. It didn’t take long before someone walked in and let the lights slice right through us.