The man who makes promises he cannot keep,

The man who stumbles while I sleep,

His eyes narrow and they pierce,

And I fight and try to be fierce.

The man who knows how to smile,

The one who likes to sit and talk for a while,

Cooks me breakfast and tells some jokes,

Runs to the store to buy me cokes.

The man who has two faces,

One that smiles and one that spaces,

Addiction is his true lover,

Go ahead, dad, have another.

Time to celebrate the man who gave me life,

Only to make me crave the knife,

I wish for a different dad,

Maybe then I wouldn't be so sad.

When only one

parent visited

me in the hospital

and said, your mother

and I are getting a divorce

only then

did I cry

tears of joy

for my father

and myself

Times befall,

Yet, nothing changes at all.

Winter.

Spring.

Summer.

Fall.

No fulfillments to recall.

I am my mother’s daughter, my father’s legacy and the bane of my sister’s existence. Young, but not a child. Old, but not an adult. I am on the cusp of finding my purpose... or am I? How dramatic.

Maybe I’ll have that same lightbulb moment my sister had, when she realised that the sole reason for her existence was to slave away at med school for 10+ years in sunny down under. But what can I say? One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. Or in this case, what would be my personal hell is her heaven on earth.

Or maybe I’ll end up like my parents. Without a college degree and thoghroughly regretting getting married 20 years down the line.

Life’s strange. Everything seems so wishy-washy, from how quickly interests fade, or the way my grudges ebb and flow like waves on the beach. I really wish I knew more about myself. Been alive for a decade and a half, and still haven’t got a clue. If there’s one thing I do know, it’s that my biggest fear is turning 50 and only then realising that I should’ve begun my shot put career decades ago.

I know nothing, and even if I knew everything, nothing would be for certain. Every single thing is subject to change. Nothing is set in stone, but maybe that’s a good thing. It’s exciting that way. And good lord do I need some excitement in my life right now.

Fake smiles

And I don’t knows

Drip from her lips

Deep in thought

She sits atop an ocean

Hoping not to fall in

Maybe if she breaks the mirror

Her fears will all dip

Or maybe they’ll just claw at her skin

Until to her bones they rip

Smiling now she takes a bow

And the curtains come to close

A girl that the world thought had it all

Is gone, yet only god knows

Everytime I want to call life unfair, I happen to think about all the people I know (mostly above 30) and the kind of lives they’ve lead - widowed, single, orphaned, abandoned, broke....but still wearing that smile!

Their smile makes me think - if life is unfair for me at 20, I wouldn’t be able to live a day in their lives.

Life sure throws its curves, but we can use our fav curve too, this blessed smile :)