Creative Writing (61)
A Letter to My Catcalled Victims
Dear catcalled victims,
Below 30 degrees in Chicago makes you want to stay home, curl up in bed, read a good book, drink some hot chocolate and maybe catch a rerun of Sex and the City.
Last night we made love
On a bed of indecision
And then my breathing gets faster
Panic sets in
The thoughts begin
And I'm resenting again
Breaking Up With Love
Happiness, that would be nice
Like Tamia says, Love and I are breaking up tonight
Can’t seem to get it right…
I know there’s no one who will never make me cry
I just wanna be the apple of someone’s eye,
Don’t I deserve it?
A Mouse Made Me Cry: An experience in India
They are probably one of the smallest creatures that I’ve ever seen (and I’ve seen plenty), but they are probably on the top ten list of things I’m afraid of. I’m well aware that there are probably millions of people that suffer from Musophobia (fear of mice) but there was one precise mouse that I can’t forget—this mouse I diagnosis as crazy!
Author Note: This poem represents the struggle of same-sex couples in America. It aims to capture how life can make us run so far from ourselves, in search of a more socially acceptable Self, and how this act of running only defeats our purpose for living.
Fighting in battle! Ready to lose
A heart not destroyed, but only bruised
Pumping my blood, which connects to my brain
What good has this heart done for me?
Change is Not an Event...It's a Process
So you spend a lot of time alone. Not alone as in no friends and solitude and talking to imaginary friends. More like this is my stuff and this is the way I do things and this is where this goes and I like it that way alone. So I have spent a lot of time alone. Some of my own doing and some by circumstance.