Pilgrim

If by any chance you’re out there Please let me wonder Are you crossing rivers Or climbing mountains? If by any chance you’re out there Please let me ask Have you started the walk? Under the bright blue sky I have one thing to ask of you Even when it’s night To not please take a halt I am by the end of the line Rooted I stopped right here Waiting for you Continue reading Pilgrim

I am that kind of girl

I am that kind of girl You will never look at twice I am that kind of girl You will not recognize In a large crowd of black and white I am that kind of girl painted like the color of the night I am that kind of girl You probably will never notice The jet black hair that falls above my shoulders Not even one glance Will you offer my appearance But if by any chance your eyes linger on me To tell honestly I am that kind of girl You will not see so commonly   Continue reading I am that kind of girl

I am a paradox

I am a paradox. Two contradicting ideas joined in one sentence. I am concealed by different films of qualities that hide the person that lie beneath the layers of skin and bones. I am both. Sentimental and Rational. Concerned and Indifferent. Uptight and Carefree. Harsh and Gentle. Strong and Vulnerable. Kind and Wicked. Innocent and Guilty. Honest and Deceitful. I am the synonyms and antonyms that contradict one another. I am both the morning and evening. The sun rising and setting. With me, there is no in between. Most nights, I stay awake trying to think of the paradox that … Continue reading I am a paradox

Prose: Who am I?

Who am I? All I know is that, I am not my name. I am not the clothes I wear nor the food I eat. I am neither the vessel outside the bones and layers of skin that most people see every day. I am not the broken teeth, black at the far corner of my mouth. Nor I am the small round nose in the middle of my heart shaped face. I am not the straight silky jet black hair that falls across my back nor the thin bony shoulder blades along my neck. I am not the small … Continue reading Prose: Who am I?