John 14:1-4 “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.”


Let not your hearts be troubled

Posted in Fiction, six sentence saturday

Beautiful Desire

She held the roses in her hands.

They pierced her skin but she held them still.

And blood left her quick.

Left wounds that did not heal.

And scars which are hard to deal with.

Till they dried and fell, so did she.

Posted in Poetry

Closed in

These four walls, keep me inside

not knowing or seeing what is going on outside.

The air holds an familiar scent

and no one can hear me from here

not even realize the time I’ve spent.

In here, where I am away

from the way, the words you say

pain me, or even how my voice is not helping

No breath

comes out

and blood flow is felt


is this my death?

Posted in Uncategorized

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Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction Friday


Some wounds don’t heal. They may peal and scab away but they become visible and prominent. They, like birthmarks become a part of us. Pauline had those kinds of wounds. She walled herself in with her lies. Each scar on her skin told a story. She wounded herself with sharp razors and watched her blood leave her. It made her acknowledge her humanness. As if her pain will flow out of her like that blood but it didn’t. It stayed concretely colored. There was a lot she needed to say. But which way would form the words realistically? Would we understand reasons behind self mutilation? No! Just like we are quick to judge suicide. How we don’t even give any chance to knowing the truth behind their actions. How we are quick to solving problems to what we see at face value when really, we don’t. We forget her feelings, put ours before her. Focus on the effect on us not on the victim.

She kept walling herself in till she couldn’t see beyond her lies. She had fabricated this enormous abnormal truth to her child because innocence had to be preserved. So as a mother would, she hid the truth till it faced her: angry. Truth came back into her life demanding a change of name and moving homes. Truth did not care of her feelings and so she did with a razor and attempt to end it all. But it becomes wounds and they take time to heal. And their pain come back for you to deal with it like telling your children the truth about their father…

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