I hear your voice like it was not long ago;

the tasteful undertones of your whisper

and the sweet melody of your laughter

troubles my sanity like an illicit drug.

I feel your tender kisses and

warm embrace that open the gates of heaven

and ignite the life in me that causes

disturbance to my rationality.

Oh, a shame, that’s what I am

for it has been so long since you’re gone

because the months have been done

but I still can’t get you off my head.

But tonight, through the gentle strokes of my pen,

I write my bittersweet goodbye to you,

my love.

I'm from Maryland! (via itlightsthewholesky)

I’m from MD. We’re not from the South, nor do we have an accent. We’re also not New England- we’re the Mid-Atlantic. It’s soda, not pop with my sub, not a hoagie. I go to the beach, not to the shore and drink water, not “wooder”. It’s DC, not Washington, and I know how to get anywhere. We know how to use a traffic circle, and how to pump our own gas. Terps basketball is life and Gary Williams is a god. We scream “O!”; in the national anthem, no matter where we are, and we cheer for the redskins no matter how they are doing. We live for crabs, corn and beer, and most of all, Chipotle. I’m from MD, and there’s no place like home!


Gazing at my computer screen,

twiddling the little pill

of fluoxetine,

I ponder and remember you:

How your face

gently lights up

whenever you see me,

how your thumb

graze over my lips

whenever you tell me

that you love

to kiss,

how your body with

its contours and complexity

fit mine


As I doused the medicine

with an ample amount

of caffeine,

I remember that

you’re not mine anymore.


Wind brushing past

my face that is marked by

the sleepless nights,

the cold mornings,

the bitter afternoons

without you

and waiting so long

in vain –

I captured the city lights

with my eyes, tired –

knowingly giving up

but unwillingly fighting.

Staring, I flicked the ashes of

my cigarette

and inhaled the fumes,

wondering if I cross your mind,

redeeming what was left of me.

I chained stick after stick,

replacing the cancer

between my fingers.

Heart beating fast

by foolish reasons I said,

“There will be someone

who will accept your flaws,

who will build you again,

who will make you feel like

it’s okay that you’ve been hurt.

There will be someone

who will come


- in collaboration with A.C.Y.