a daylight dream

am I really the woman you see? strong, fierce, knowing. am I really all the stars in that night sky you live your days in? am I really all  that ? it doesn’t feel right to value myself this way. I’m often outside of what I called my margins of comfort, the bitterness of my broken piano melodies emanating from the soulful wounds that never got to heal. I’m used to all of that, if not more. I’m used to constantly bringing myself down to the earth, so deeply bruised, unnoticed and invisible with all my might just to say in the dark. but this is not what this love asks for me. am I really receiving for the first time? coating myself in glimmers, I shine for you. I come across as shy, and you wonder why. you wonder why I’m hiding. you wonder why I’m not more when you see that heart of me, ferocious waves at the foot of every shore. deep down, I’m so afraid. I’m afraid of messing up. I’m afraid I’m not so strong. I’m afraid I’m undeserving of all this grace and effortless pace. I’m afraid th

I wish I loved you before I learned to love through tears alone. before love was only felt after a deep, stirring agony. before love was the other side of loneliness. before it was the opposite of all darkness. I wish I loved you when love was a calming river of joy. an ordinary, palpable bounciness in my chest I feel when you call. when it was a fresh, transparent coat of paint glimmering on top of the entire world. and now I have to unlearn all what I thought was true. now I need to unwind all the suffering I put my heart through. all the winding alleyways in darkness, pitfalls in sadness, and days of not seeing it through. but now there’s you. you come here and take my hand towards a place where love doesn’t have to be so hard. a place where it can be breathed, not devoured. a cloud. a springtime rain. the full moon while it wanes. my eyes soften as I feel the grace of knowing I’m yours. a lifetime so intense in the unlearning of growing pains, and being the warm starlight I was all

you’ve arrived, my love. arrived at my brokenness. at the sealed doorways of my past. the understanding. the compassion. the warmth of healing light that comes without fighting, without trying to be seen. you’ve arrived at every part of me. the sweetness of your nurturing smile is calming. I could stand by it for hours and dive into its soothing winds. there are waters in your soul, unchartered, made just for my longing eyes. yes, I’ve always longed for a love that awakens. a love that ceases the wildfires of the past. but not so long ago, it fell into my lap that it is my hand that can tame it. my hand that can reach out to it with forgiveness and a choice to love more fiercely, yet somehow, even more softly than ever before. you’ve arrived at that one thing I might never be able to handle on my own— something of God’s light, something of His river of gifts. something you surrender to with ease—  something just like this. I won’t ever show my brokenness again, my dear. this is mine to

and I’m wrapped up in snow, torrential bouts of it, cooling the volcanic swirling swooning waves you’ve lit in me. the intensity in my eyes is burning, just waiting for yours. waiting for the catastrophic madness, the casual laser-cut sadness you inspire in me.   my steps are pointed towards mountain climbs, ever-radiant. do you have it in you to lose sight awhile? let me take you by surprise. let me melt your world into a confusion divine. I never said loving me was easy. I never said it was for the faint. not when it was meant for the depth in these eyes only I can understand. not when it meant for your heart to lapse into shores of quicksand. your sleepless night is calmed by my touch. into my chest your heaves fall, your pulses layer gently on top of each other. breathe into me your everything and I’ll know how. I’ll know how..  breathe, my love. there’s peace in knowing it was meant to be. follow the magical fingertips of my voice. follow the angelic call. the feathery lightness t

your eyes, I swear, are an infinite gateway. so dark, so brown, so beautiful. you avoid my gaze most of the time but when the magnetic pull between us leaves us in the middle of something vast, something I can’t really fathom enough to leave. it kills me— your calmness. it kills me how you only talk of things of the mind when we’re together. I smile and lapse into silence, delirious, chasing my own tails trying to get to you. you’re impenetrable. stone-high walls that I know how to shatter. only me. it kills me how you don’t leave me a chance to. all I need is that little crack in your chest to break open your heart and let it flood with waters of helplessness and surrender. that’s where home is, dearest. the softest part of you. the childlike disbelief that all this love is so near an embrace. your courtesy, throw it away when you’re with me. show me your wildest side. show me your sting. show me your everything. I’ll know how.  it kills me that I have a lifetime to get to every part

  if there was one thing I could subtract in my life, it would be  goodbye . I’m still not sure if it’s only wishful thinking, but it seems my heart could bear all the pain in the world, but not the goodbye. sometimes I feel I could break from the number of times I’d imagined saying goodbye and not seeing the people I love again. it’s a practice I’ve memorised like the back of my hand. the innumerable airport waves that never amount to anything, held back tears, children leaving their classroom doors every year. having this one last time kills everything. the nights leading up to this goodbye are painful. just as long as this one is. I’m trying to rehearse the easiest way to pass through the airport gates without flooding. I’m trying to picture what would make life easier once I’m back, not having to think about the emptiness that follows. the days I don’t hear my sister’s laughter, or my mother’s face glowing when she comes home. these are moments my heart is twisting for. I’m not rea

  it’s this bottleneck situation that wakes me up at night so early, a pattern so exhaustingly tiresome that a calming pill is my only way to see this through in ease. this airplane ride back home is so different this time around. so many unknowns, so many  who knows ? something in my heart tells me I won’t be here again, at least not this way. something tells me it’s time for everything to change. a mountain climber knows his world is never the same after the most majestic ascent— every step forward after it holds less meaning to the entire world, but it means something entirely different for the heart. I don’t know if I’ll be here again. I’m not sure if I’ll be here again this way. walking down the streets packed with friendly maples, I sink in reverence for all the years I had spent witnessing their worship. I tear up remembering the laughter that echoed down these meadows, the poetry and lyrics that never made it to anyone’s ears. thing no one knows except for me. it might be the l

  I pray that the only secret I keep in the world is this pounding love within the crevices of remembrance, in the darkness of being alone, waiting for the right moment to fall asleep.   a snowflake following the other, every beat of this heart. a body that comes back home each night and remembers something sacred about being here. the variables and reasons grow in perplexity and enormity each day, which makes me want to let go and swim even more. I pray that these eyes hold something that no one could ever reveal. a sad sweetness of losing something that felt infinite just so that your life doesn’t scar its sacredness. letting it go and buying a happiness that lasts well for this lifetime, does its part and does it so well. every ounce of passion oozing into all of it till there’s not enough to drift away into what resides somewhere uncharted. these airplane rides back home remind of a bittersweet story. what would someone in my place do? would they come back or would a lasting happin

golden blues tint the inside of my heart as August rolls by: the trees are painted with a faded kind of green and auburn shades, the winds are cooler in the dark mornings, when the sunlight, in peace, emerges slowly, giving us time to finally realise all this colour and all this summery life is little by little passing by. I always feel a little melancholic at that time of the year, saying goodbye to many memories and embroidering my soul with new, fresh intentions. it's okay to feel both a little longing and holding on. I am grateful to say that my longing for the newness to come is energising and fulfilling.  august was all about accepting the ordinariness of life, or at least that was my intention. it was beyond beautiful to hold on to that, since the little moments shined with so much essence. mornings were filled with tears of thankfulness and daily routines were honoured with a delightful presence. I am quite proud of myself for creating more and more habits that light up my

I didn’t expect to see you there— a bejewelled presence made just for my eyes. I remember gazing at you in disbelief, shaky at my loss, shaky at being so close and near to the jewel I dropped so recklessly and never looked back to. I remember how I smiled, and for a moment in that crowded room it was just you and me, an infinite future embroidered on the hems of your dreams. it was just you that night, and all faded away. your eyes pointing at me as I stepped onto that stage. and there was no goodbye, but I might have glanced at you one last time. my insides shaking, sleepless in their nights and tears I never had welled in my eyes. something hit different this time—  what was it I was longing for? take me back to that night so I’d keep that conversation a little longer for everything I know now. clean from years of saying all the words I don’t believe, clean from broken promises and blank dreams that only I had the courage to sail. clean from a love that never touched the grounds of m