Write for Play

George’s Great Big Lesson

A sound under his bed jolted George awake.
His eyes grew wide, and his body started to shake.
“Is it a ghost or a monster?” he thought with dread.
But a soft meow told him it was only Fred.

Leaning over his bed, George saw two green eyes.
Fred meowed again, and George let out a sigh.
“Time for school!” Mom shouted from the door.
“Why, oh why, can’t I just sleep some more?”

He glanced at the clock. It was ten past seven.
If only he were a grownup, he could sleep till eleven!
“Why, oh why, couldn’t it be a snow day?”
Then he could stay at home and play, play, play.

Sleepy and tired, George stumbled into the kitchen.
He was running late, and his bag’s zipper had broken.
“Quickly, George,” Mom said, handing him a glass of grape juice.
“Have some cereal and one of those fruits.”

He took a banana and the juice to the counter.
Then stared at his favorite box of cereal, empty, and turned over.
“Mom, Sarah finished the cereal. I have nothing to eat!”
“There are other cereals,” Sarah said. “Why not try the wheat?”

George’s face got hot, and he wanted to cry.
“I don’t like those. Why did you have to eat mine?”
George glared at his sister, who was now licking her spoon.
“I’ll get some more later,” said Mom. “Hurry, we have to leave soon.”

Grabbing his banana and juice, George sat down, feeling hurt.
And half of the grape juice spilled all over his shirt.
“Oh, George,” Mom said, her face in shock.
“Go and change quickly. It’s almost eight o’clock!”

Embarrassed and angry, George ran back to his room.
He hoped the horrible morning would end really soon.
Back in the kitchen, clean and fed, he reached for his backpack, and a piece of paper fell instead.
It had a list of words for his spelling quiz. It was supposed to be today, and he hadn’t practiced!

His eyes filled with tears, and this time they fell.
“Why, oh why, did I even leave my bed?”
“George, what’s wrong?” Mom asked, frowning.
“I forgot I had a spelling test, and it’s been the worst morning!”

Pulling him into a hug, Mom kissed his cheek.
“We all have bad mornings, sweetheart. It’s how we face it that’s key.
If you take a deep breath and think positively, you’ll see.
The more you focus on something good, the better you’ll feel.”

George thought for a second and concluded that, yes.
Whenever he thought about good moments, he always felt his best.
But— “Mom, I haven’t studied, though. What about my quiz?”
“Just do your best, sweetheart, and use this as a lesson for your next test.”

George smiled and felt the day get a little bit brighter.
And as he walked to the door, his footsteps felt lighter.
He may not ace his spelling quiz, but he will definitely do his best.
And bad mornings don’t equal bad days; it only takes a moment to correct.

Happyness – Where Art Thou?



 If you try to find happiness outside of yourself with people or things, then it is fleeting, and it’s not true happiness. This is surfaced. True happiness lies within. And in order to be happy with people and the things around you, you first have to be happy with yourself.

So, here are some steps to being truly happy:

  1. Sit down and get to know who you are… people spend their entire lives with themselves, and some leave this world not even knowing who they truly are. Get to know yourself. How do you do this? Talk to yourself… If you find that you’re reacting a certain way to something, ask yourself why you do that. Mind you, an external voice won’t answer but keep asking yourself questions and you will eventually get answers. No one knows you better than yourself.
  2. Like yourself. This is sadly not as easy as it sounds. But here’s the crazy thing… If you find that you don’t like yourself, then you’re doing something or some things that you know isn’t/aren’t aligned with who you really are. Find out what those things are and avoid doing them. Not liking yourself is never just a surfaced thing like – being too fat or skinny or short or tall or pale or dark. These are all surfaced, and this surfaced dislike is coming from somewhere deeper – sit down, be patient with yourself and figure it out. Aren’t you worth it?
  3. After learning to like yourself, now what you do is love yourself. Treat yourself like you treat a loved one. Appreciate yourself, do things that you like to do, and find and follow whatever makes you feel good in a positive way. Over time, you’ll find that you can call yourself one of your best friends. You know who you are, you appreciate yourself and you love yourself.
  4. Happiness for all. Once you start to love yourself, you will find that being truly happy is not a fabled existence. Once you’d gotten to know yourself, you’d have found out what makes you feel good and what makes you feel shitty. In order to have true happiness, you should constantly be aware of steps 1-3 and ceaselessly put those steps into play. This is a continuous journey, once you stop any of those 3 points, there’s a good chance your inner feeling of happiness will become stilted and stuck. But, being happy is not something that’s difficult – you just have to be patient with yourself and follow your little joys every day. And, before you know it, you’ll be living a happy life.



A Day Like Any Other

My day began like any other, except now that my boyfriend is staying with me in my tiny apartment for three months – I’m awakened by the sound of the refrigerator door opening, glass clicking and the burst of acidic air from a bottle of coke. Ah yes, just… peeking through one eye at the time… forty-five minutes before my alarm goes off – the joys of cohabitating. Don’t get me wrong, I love that he’s visiting me on the other side of the planet, but my morning side was never made of rainbow and sunshine. As far as I’m concerned, no human contact before 10 a.m. should be a well-enforced law – well, except for early morning sex. That’s great. No talking, no cuddling, just fucking, and then you roll over and go back to sleep.

Anyway, at this point I tried to salvage a little more sleep, although I already knew it was more wishful thinking than realistic. But before I could go back to the already forgotten land of dreams, I smelt the distinct odor of tobacco. Ok, I give up. Literally rolling from my bed I automatically reached for the remote to turn on the heat – morning rituals, plus cold, equals “fuck work I’m going back to bed.” And we definitely can’t have that (too often) now can we?

After some coffee, grilled cheese, getting my hair to look functionally decent, watching a few cartoons and having a smoke – I realized that almost two hours had passed and I was already (almost) late. So I grabbed a dress threw it on and ran out the door. Soon enough, after looking down, I realized that my previously-unworn-dress was way shorter than I’d anticipated, barely reaching mid-thigh on my 5’10” legs and somehow even shorter in the back. Yup, this will definitely not work around teenagers.

While practically running the 10-minute walking distance to my destination and clutching my coat around me like a protective armor, I called my apartment phone which was picked up on the third ring with a cheery “moshi moshi.” I couldn’t help smiling at his noble attempt. “Could you bring me a pair of pants…?” I asked, dodging a co-worker’s eye contact and slipping stealthily into a nearby bathroom.

Just a day like any other.




Another quiet morning has passed where, upon tumbling out of bed, I muse to myself, “what the hell was that dream?” Not that I don’t appreciate the memory of my flights and celestial fancies, but sometimes I truly have to wonder what my subconscious is up to when I delve into these otherworlds.

Sitting on the outskirts of my mind, I look around my tiny apartment and feel the closeness of everything choking me back into my safety net. That slumber that never leaves. It’s sort of like my security blanket – always there to rock me into submission.

Going into auto-pilot, my morning glides from task to task, continuously the same yet somewhat different. I can never seem to do the same exact thing twice.

Sometimes time plays tricks on me, telling me we’re cool and will roll together. But as soon as complacency sits in, I’m tossed in a whirlwind of ticks and missing beats. I can never get mad though, I know time sits still and I’m the one that flows. Still, these moments remain, almost like a reminder of my movement between these planes – forever on the move, yet remaining the same.

Occasionally, I would sit as still as possible and relish in the shifts that exist with and through me. I’m in a million different places right now – how many people know this?

So, back in my apartment, my home away from home, I try to stay with time and have friendly conversations to appease as I go through the motions.

And soon, sometimes too soon, I greet the morning that sits on the outside of my door.

Hello world…


The Theory of Love


Love – such a tricky thing. Where does it come from? Why do we experience it? And, is it really the root of all evil? Ok, maybe that last question is a bit off, but love does hold a certain kind of je ne sais quoi that makes it easy to theorize until we’re personally satisfied.

We all have our stories and different approaches when it comes to love – some try to avoid it at all cost, many search for it with an almost obsessive passion, and others, well, they just leave it to fate.

Scientists suffice that the brain produces its own substances that are involved in bonding. That it’s thanks to certain chemicals and hormones why your heart swoops. According to science, there are a variety of different neurochemical processes and external stimuli that have to click in the right complex and the right sequence for someone to fall in love. Plausible…possibly… But one cannot help thinking that the beauty of love is not just because of neurotransmitters and chemicals like serotonin and dopamine. That’s not very romantic now is it? And love is supposed to be this amazing, romantic thing, right?

That’s why many of us find it so easy to believe that we are destined to be with someone – that one mate for our soul. We meet, fall in love, and (for those who are a bit dreamy) live happily ever after. But is that really love? Is it really that beautiful romantic thing that so many of us crave to find with that one special person? Or, is it something of a more sinister nature? I mean, many have died because of love; and a heartbreak – oh a heartbreak can be the worst kind of pain. Still, we search – whether intentionally or not, we all have, at one point or another, been a slave to those four letters.

We cannot orchestrate falling in love with someone, either it’ll happen or it won’t. And many times we’re not even aware of that exact moment when it does happen. If you think you do, then you, my friend, are reaching because when you sit down and really think about it you will find that it’s not actually that exact instant when you fell in love that you remember, but it’s the epiphanic moment when you realized that it had, in fact, already happened.

Maybe its chemicals dancing up a storm in our brains, or maybe it’s a fateful connection on a soul level. Whatever it is, the bottom line remains – it’s called falling in love for a reason. Because once you’re in, baby, and I mean truly in, it can be one of the most heart-wrenching and agonising experiences to get out of. But, hey, don’t let that deter you from enjoying it when it does happen. Love, despite the pain and suffering that goes along with it, does hold the absolute best feeling you’ll ever have in this lifetime – especially when the person that you’re in love with loves you back with just as much passion, or more.



Never After


As the blood seeped through my fingers i thought of the truth. Wherever one may go, and whatever they might try, the demise of happiness and all the pretty things is inevitable. 

I fell to my knees, struggling for air and felt a pinch in my lungs each time i stole a breath. We were so close, inside and out, that’s how we knew each other. We were each other’s lives – or, at least, that’s what i thought.


It finally came out – was it a whisper or a choked cough from someone else? I no longer recognized my voice.

She simply looked at me and smiled. That smile that I knew for so long – so many years… but there was something different. There was something of an evil twist to it now, it wasn’t at all the sweet taunting smile that i was used to.

She stepped closer to me and knelt so her face was inches from mine – and still holding the gun, she whispered, “i love you still,” and licked the blood that trickled down the corner of my dried lips.

Questioningly my eyes searched her face, looking for answers that i knew weren’t going to be there. She was always so good at hiding her feelings.

Sighing, she sat back on her heels and started fondling with the gun.

Who was this person? This was not my best friend, the person i knew since childhood.

She had apparently known where to shoot – not to kill me quickly – but to inflict long seeping pain. It was excruciating, i couldn’t hold back the tears as the pain seemed to have suddenly become blinding.

So much blood, I was losing too much blood.

Taking a shallow breath, i swallowed and tried to hold back the panic – I would not go to death weeping.

“I love you still,” she repeated – this time with more persistence in her voice. Her eyes were cold now, staring into me. And i wondered absently how eyes like that could know love.

“I never wanted it to come to this, but certain things just can’t be helped, sweetling.” She ran a finger down my cheek as she said this, and i flinched without thought.

Sighing, she crooned, “You’ll always be a part of me, sweetling.”

Before i could retort at her sentiments and childhood nickname – i felt it. It was slow. Seemingly travelling from my very core. It was death. He was here. Creeping through my body… whispering to me… and breathing down my neck as he hovered overhead… waiting.

My time has come and i will not fight it.

“Know this before you go,” she said to me. “All you had to do was open up and embrace what was real. I was always there. How could you not have seen how much i love you? How much i truly love you? He is no good. No good for you.” She shook her head slowly, staring off – straight through me.

“No one can have you. You are mine now, forever and always.”

She came closer then, and i did not move. I could not move. I felt faint, and the pain was now unbearable. I wanted to go and yearned for it to just end. Then, her lips touched mine… so soft. They lingered and teased, bruising seductively. And i, underneath the pain and ever so subtly felt a tinge of deep pleasure being awoken. If i wasn’t so ‘in-tuned’ i wouldn’t have noticed it.

But before the eyes of this newfound yearning could flutter awake, she slowly pulled away. Her lips leaving mine – uncovered and empty. My soul went with her, i knew. She had taken my last breath. And with the words “I love you still” echoing in my head…. I embraced the grave.





For years I lived relentlessly as a juggernaut,
Souring through space like an astronaut.
Then you cracked me open like a coconut,
And soon I was no longer like an Argonaut.
As my veins split open and you seeped through,
I could no longer think clearly with the same views,
I was drowning in emotions of what I couldn’t tell,
Like you’d found me and put me under some voodoo spell.
You made me yearn for your touches and your smiles,
You made me cry with your words and your wiles.
I felt weak ‘cus you turned me into a puddle,
So I would seek just to corrupt this riddle.
But now I’m simply chilling by the side,
Letting these waves wash over me like a tide.
I’ve given up on trying to figure out this love thing,
And will just wait for my death by your heart strings.




Sometimes I feel like I’m fading – like I’m drifting between worlds at such a pace that my movements become blurred and distorted.
There are times when I feel the intensity of my existence, and it calms me; lulling me into a sense of blissful awareness.
While other times, I feel suffocated by the pull, by the noise and the hushed breaths that escape my lungs.
My existence is in motions, but I feel stilled sometimes, like I’m standing in quietude while the world moves around me.
I know I’m not still. I’m never really still. I’m always moving, feeling, knowing and screaming.
This is my insides, but I remain still.

little watercourses with many stones



It’s a certain kind of feeling that I ran from
That I chased
That I now can’t live without
Undulating in its attack, it struck gold with this soul
As I can’t let it go
How can I?
These feelings of warmth and bliss
And flutters in the midst
Where do I go from this?




I can hear them speaking so quietly to me
Tearing at my mind to bend it to their will
I’m closer to death than I’ve thought possible in a while
And the closer I get the more pleasant my hell
I will bask in my emotions until they drive me to the edge
I will sing along with the voices that taunt
I will sit by the tree that never flourishes – yet
I will not answer their call




“Cold heart do not beat so loud.”

I lay here bleeding for you
Waiting for the pain to pass
Praying for death
As your image stays glued in my mind’s eye
Taunting me
Making me want…..need
My veins sigh now in freedom
Happy that their insides are pouring out in praise – nay exaltation – of a new day!




Fit me in a padded room
Line me with the walls
Sever me from reality
Thrill me with your calls
Dancing little fireflies
Making wishes true
Little men in corners
All my thoughts they knew
Brain tumoured crazy
Drug induced high
I’m the one who’s really sane
Everyone else denies!




Heartbreak is my mistress,
We lie well in time.
Whenever there is sorrow,
She whets my lips like wine.
Heartbreak brings me peace,
Her smile is my undoing.
Wherever there is an opening,
She readies me for the wooing.




He lied love between his teeth, while he bedded another.
Deliberately stirred my heart in fear of me moving on.
And kept me beneath the sheets.
Silly girl. Just move on and forget the manipulating prick.
A little bit longer and i will – a few years is not that long.
I’ll just become involved with someone else – that’ll show him.
Silly girl. You’re still in bed with him.
I know, I’ll tell him to go to hell, delete his
number, his texts and those late night images that would invade my dreams.
He no longer exists. Just a little bit longer. He simply waits.
He knows that I’ll eventually forget.
The bastard calls. I accept.
I love you he’d say before hanging up.
Son of a bitch! I love you too, I’d breathe reluctantly.
Back to square one. Beneath the sheets.




I can feel my soul bleeding,
Shedding tears of lonesomeness and bliss.
I’ve no control over the gaping hole that sits on my chest,
Seeking – wanting to pull the next victim through and bring him to his knees.
I’m a perpetual masochist,
A continuous black mist that encircles and destroys.
I’m not without feelings – feelings of me, myself and I.
Still…. Kiss me on my cheek, and let me know your insides.




Daddy never heard me
As I barely breathed and waited.
Crouching below the floor boards,
I ignored the smell of rat pee
And the feel of tiny creatures scampering across my bare feet.

Peering through the cracks, I witnessed the demise of my mother
As the music of her voice was replaced with cries of pain.
And the hands that taught me to play baseball –
Now swung with the purpose of teaching her how to be a ‘good wife’.

I remember.

Daddy did not hear me that night
When I escaped from the hell of the floorboards.
And, with the bat that held so many fond memories,
I smashed away the celebration of my father.




It has been a while since I left my sins behind.
Jealous of the others who occupy their minds.
As my punishment takes form,
I shall welcome it with bliss.
Simply smile at my destiny and wish for a kiss.
Do not let the quiet ones know your pain,
We’re supposed to be strong,
But I’ll embrace my shame.
There’s an echoing rejection inside my head.
Whichever for the other,
Let us rejoice with the dead!
Do not desert me now because I’ve allowed the screws loose,
Stay closer to me my comforted muse.



Do you know why I cry,
Why i stare at the moon and howl?
Are you aware of the pain that stains,
Or is it just too soon?

I want to escape,
Escape from the real.
And bestow gifts and kisses on your grave
While I prepare my last meal.
I’m staring right at you with my heart in hand.
Clutching the aftereffects of our love-whirl
That’s now driving me mad.

Love child of the after
Embrace my longed need.
Do not leave my side and allow me to feed.
My wishes may see faults,
But it’s only for our time.
Let’s continue while you look off
And I painlessly die.




Is Death stalking you?
Breathing down your neck and making your hair stand up?
Is he perched in your happy places, waiting – daring you to become comfortable?

Death waits in the shadows,
And sighs quietly when you miss that step that could bring you to him.
He smiles when you touch the blade to your wrist,
And holds his breath in anticipation when you fill your palm with pills.

But, before the smell of death,
Should we bask in the precious illusions that life offers,
And the sinful wants that provide a temporary relief?
Or, should we just delve into the enticing mist of the afterlife?




There is no happy ending!
We are all screwed from that first awkward kiss
To the descend into blissful lies and wants.
It’s never what is played out in dreams.
Don’t get me wrong, there are some moments
Of ignorant sweet talks and coy smiles under covers.
And of course coated seconds of a few orgasmic touches which
In truth – will be great.
But, my dear, it will never last.

Happy endings are for princesses stuck in a time warp
Between the pages of children’s books.
They’re not for reality,
Not my reality,
Not yours,
And sure as hell not his.
So do away with blind wants, my dear,
And embrace the Happily Never After that lies in wake.




My tears mix with his sweat and I sigh.
This is my masochistic lover – the one who makes my knees weak and leaves my bed before I sleep.
I’m the dirty little secret that resides under cover,
Being brought to the surface when there’s a need to recover.
This soul yearns and dies a little each time between our passes,
Clenching to the imagination of a fool.
With this sin as my burden I shall bear the mark,
And sit quietly as each parting moment rips a piece from my heart.
Soon, there will be a skeleton of me – a shadow of what I knew.
Still… knowing…. I stay.
He’s my dirty little secret too.




I will never leave you; you are the pulse that keeps me sane.
My forever companion – my moments of self-loathe, pain, and thrills.
You have taught me expression,
How to serve myself with knowledge passed through the times.
If not for you I’d have been a sheep – a consequence of sociological creation.
“I would die for you”
This passion wields a sword that does not go dull, but stays sharp with each wrinkle and stretch that peeks.
You are my true soul mate, the one who hides and keeps create my secrets.
You and I are beasts from the same belly!
No one can keep us apart – not my hidden muse, or time, or even that nuisance called life.
This is for you, my special ingenium.

Power of Words



It’s in retrospect that I will speak,
Embracing the foils of my thrills, and her drills of possible possibilities.
She remained quiet – going against her blood to exist.
Still, these stripes could not be broken,
Not while silent possibilities remained underfoot.
Knowing – she stood on the precipice (waiting) pondering when the leap will occur.
Another inevitable death.
So, with a sigh she embraced it – the eventuality of possible possibilities.




Let’s play the game a bit longer
While the seeds of torment take root and devour the mind.
Let’s blend with the background and stroke,
Shedding insecure moments and passing guesses.
We’ve played the game well – more before than this.
After all, the clenching pain is what brings back the best memories.
Denial can be your best friend too,
He’s always there to soothe, calm and rain kisses on your open wounds.




Sweet Death, no one can truly understand you.
They fear, stare – and try to figure out your contours.
But, these Beings do not know how to expand their mind.
It is forever in the shadows that you seek,
Behind your many masks that you speak,
And on those untouched floorboards that you creak.
Tempting the unbidden and allowing difference for the needy.

I have tasted you on the tip of my tongue, and i became an addict.
You have breathed through my pores, rested behind my corneas,
And settled in the pit of my stomach when we needed time alone.
Then, you would disappear from my reaches to satiate your unended dry thirst.
You have never given me too much…. or enough,
Just that particular amount to quench my appetite until fate states that our courtship must end.




Let us cleanse ourselves of an unwanted past,
Sing songs of triumph for what is to come,
And allow the graces of the in-between to grow.
We Speak of stages – here is mine,
The one that does not allow for excuses or time.
Where wishes and wants have to be a little more cemented,
And all the ‘goodstuff‘ does not lie with the demented.

Happy endings… days of past,
We shall meet again in the looking glass.
If ever we should stumble just look to the present one,
He who will stay close till our days are done.




He lingers still between the shadows,
Averse to any attacks of will.
He waits so patiently to take your being,
Sit back, relax and stay still.

Some may feel a pull – while others remain cloaked.
How often have you felt that buzz that lingers on your walls?
Cry tears of loss and you’ll see what hope has done.
Just let go, and try to breathe that sigh that never seems to come.




I want to be raped by your fantasies,
Imprisoned by your glares of hatred and disgust.
I long to feel your nails biting into my throat
While your heated essence invades my aura.
I yearn for you to rip the dress off my back
And lick the blood from the scars that you’ve created.
There is no control; I’m locked in my wanton cravings.
Such forbidden fruit should be ripped from the tree and devoured!
Your darkness does not scare me,
I need your sin.
I want you to tear my legs open again and again.

I am here for you to quench your needs,
As my thirst for your fire plants these black seeds.
There are but these moments,
Sad, I can’t remember when
I didn’t feel these urges and would in sin descend.
I can feel it now, your breath on my neck,
Getting warmer and warmer knowing I won’t object.
Such tormenting thrill,
Don’t play pretend with sex.
Moments like these are better than the next.




Once upon a time there was purity between these thighs,
An untouched flower that shied from the sun.
Now it stretches unabashedly towards it,
And such purities of once upon a time are done.

There are unshed tears in my eyes and lies between my lips,
My betrayals are without fear as I sinfully sway my hips.
Emotions are lost as I float from one to the other,
Each a different stranger – screwing undercover.

I will not smear you with my sin,
Your innocence is all I have left.
The purity that cloaked my womanhood has been lifted.
Once upon a time I was Snow White…. but I drifted.


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