I was a rag doll— trifled, toyed, and played Whose patchworks were rended, torn, and ripped Every scraps and seams don't fit I'm a roman tapestry— stitched, sewn, and weaved Every thread is an untold story A piece of the whole new one unveiling before me



In between the mundane seconds of a yellow Sunday afternoon and the stale poppies melting on my ill windowsill I hear your grey voice rushing in sea waves Echoing in my brain's camphoraceous caves Conquering my body like it's a war zone fighting for my sanity And the faces of your face are rip-offs clinging …


I wore your hat to protect my head from the debris falling from our family tree but the spilling blues and red, lumps the purple on my skin The invisible scars, the indelible tints Throbs and thumps within 'Cause father, when you left I saw how mother went out in the cold gasping for life, …


I saw you stood like a palm tree with drooped leaves falling free I heard you laughed without a sound and it echoed beneath the ground There's a yellow orange gumball you didn't chew it was stuck in your throat, choking you your lips were unripe plums turning into prunes as your smile loomed like …


You say, my newborn face dwells only in the frames of your ancient house, and my purity was left in my mother's womb and arms So now, you try to cleanse me with your precious soap, Scour... Scrub... Rub... and then you conceal me with lotion, some powder, more perfume! And yet some more, make …


A slice of me in Morality Park—Art & Lit Collective. Please do check us out, thank you!



Welcome to the funfair where anyone can go through. This is the mirthful side of the world that haunts me in vivid and vibrant colors. Sugar and spice, taste them inside!

They can see me as a horse in the carousel, the ferris wheel or the roller coaster ride. Thrilling and electrifying. Where they go round and round, up and down, until eruptions arise in their downtown.

They want me to lick their lollipops and pop the elastic balloons with my tongue and teeth. Their heads contain nothing but helium. Swallow or spit.

Try it. Then tell me how fun it is.

I’m the tin cans on where they throw their balls at, or the punching bag on a boxing machine game.

One hit = one bubble gum flavored pride.

They drop a coin in the toy machine where they see me as stuffed, aggressive to get inside.

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Yesterday was the first time I rode an ambulance alone with her on a stretcher, I was inside but it felt like I wasn't there, I felt like I lost my other senses and my face was empty. All I heard and felt were the wallops of siren piercing my whole being, as if there were …


There was a furious echoing strike of thunder—followed by immense silence that conquered the rest of the place. I felt the coldness of the wind clouting my pulse, and I could smell a pungent scent of a smoldering eucalyptus. My heart skipped a beat, and as I stare into space I've kind of anticipated what's …


I was reluctant to create this post but I thought that I must because I owe you, guys. I'll make this short and simple. There's a lot going on with me lately, and I almost forgot that today marks the second month of my blog. And creating this blog was one of the greatest decisions …