My Mistake

Barefoot, walk down the dirt path, gently run your fingers through the sea of yellow coneflowers and let the sunshine kiss the tip of your nose.

Your plans of building a future with a stubborn man have gone awry, and even though his heartless manners and calloused words contaminated your world with bitterness and hatred, you must rise above it all.

You must be strong.

Destroy the fire-breathing dragon that your anger spawned inside of your chest. Battle the demons that crawled out of your misery and once again, bury them in the darkness of your mind.

Your heart kept knocking on the door that was never meant to be opened. And, even though you cried and pleaded, the man behind the iron door chose a different path for both of you.

A wave of bitterness swallowed you whole when your words failed to reach the icebox inside of his chest, and you let the tears burn your cheeks as they stream down your face.

Love cannot be controlled, nor can it be suppressed and once it latches on to you like a leech, you are powerless. Your cool, analytical mind is no longer the compass – it loses its way in the infinite labyrinth of false fantasies and becomes dependent on the foolish heart.

And your heart, like a naive animal, falls into a trap.

Soon, an ocean of scarlet consumes your massacred heart and it will drown if you don’t muster the courage to pull through the fog of misery.

The pain will seep out of your pores eventually and your heart will mend, but do not be afraid to walk away.

For if you stay, the pain will remain forever but if you find the courage to sail out of the treacherous reach, you will find happiness.

My Mistake

48 Hours

Three cold, dark nights seeped through my fingers like sand, and unraveled a prickly silence between us.

It lay across my lips like a girth and hid your somber eyes from mine.

Cold as an iceberg, distant as a foreign continent and stubborn as a goat.

Suddenly, you erected walls around your heart without a single word.

I cannot scale these walls nor can I penetrate them anymore.

The battle I waged for your heart is lost, and now there is nothing but an arctic distance between us.

What happened between then and now? What caused this strange behavior?

Tell me, please…

Now, I don’t know how to act around you. You’re neither friend nor foe.

I simply keep my eyes to the ground every time I see you and hope that the pain you spawned inside of my heart will soon disappear.

Such a shame, such pity that my gilded words of love fell on a deaf ear and a stupid man.

Surrounded by so many people that love me, yet I feel so alone without you.

You’re not even mine and I want you.

It’s funny – no it’s sad – actually, it’s quite pathetic to yearn what you cannot have.

What must I do now? Leave? Stay? Fight? Cry?

No. I will sail out of your blasé reach – float down the river of life and never breathe your name again.

You have been discarded into the pile of cowards that I once knew.

There, you will remain for the rest of your life, buried and forgotten.

There, you will fade away.

48 Hours

The Tale of a Dubious Prince

Once upon a time, in a kingdom of darkness and pain,
Lived a dubious, little prince with a hollow heart.
He sat on a skeletal throne and butchered souls.
And his favorite pastime was to conquer and burn.

He enjoyed torture, blood and impalement most of all.
Hence why his foes called him a bloody monster, a tyrant and a wild boar.

Those who lived in the kingdom were very afraid,
For the prince was volatile and simply deranged.

He ruled his homeland with an iron fist,
Hence why the people called him a beast.
Those who opposed him were beheaded and flayed,
For the prince lacked a heart – mercy was not in his veins.

He was ugly, repulsive, scarred and insane.
And although he was small,
He was fearless and strong.

He mounted warhorses – ponies were given to slaves.
And he’d charge into battle, yell out, “Ye shall fall to your knees!”
Before slaying his prey.

After battling foes, burning temples to ash,
Disembodying the innocent, ripping hearts from their chests,
The dubious prince dove into raping his conquest.

Virginal maidens only lasted a night,
Early next morning, their bodies were trashed,
Into the gutter, with the rest of the quarry;
Damaged, deflowered and ready to bury.

The tale is woeful, morose and dreadful,
But the reign of the prince did not last forever.
He was finally slain by a raven-haired maiden.

She beheaded the tyrant, placed the crown on her head,
Settled into the skeletal throne and assumed his place.

The tale of the raven-haired princess has yet to be told,
No one knows if her kingdom will flourish or fall.
But beware she will not be a puppet, a fool or a dolt.

She will rule as she pleases,
And if protests arise, then the sword that she used to butcher the tyrant
Will once again be ready to strike.

The Tale of a Dubious Prince

The Beginning of a Sinister Love Affair


You are not Prince Charming.

Your heart is the shade of charcoal, and it is filled with hatred against the world that has never taken the time to recognize the ingenious thoughts inside of your sinister mind.

No, not sinister – your brilliant mind.

Once upon a time, under a starry night, our lips touched for the first time and the poison you harbored in your black, little heart infested mine.

Slowly and quietly, I have fallen in love with the Dark Knight.

He has good intentions, even though he is riddled with insecurities, pain and sorrow. He is not perfect – in fact, he is ugly and far from the picture perfect guys that the modern society fantasizes about.

He fears intimacy.

Past love affairs have left him vulnerable, cold and guarded. He fears unknown – especially if it’s in a form of a fiercely independent woman.

But, whenever our gazes align, I can smell the lustful thoughts that brew in his head.

He is intrigued by the cloak of mystery I wear and although he cannot decipher the nonchalance in the tone of my voice, he tries. To him, a puzzle needs to be solved and a riddle needs be answered; uncertainty is not an option.

And, although he fears love, he will have to learn to accept it.

For the Dark Knight needs the Queen of Hearts.

It is simply inevitable.

The Beginning of a Sinister Love Affair

Bullies, Be Gone

Once upon a time, in a green kingdom by the endless sea, lived a child that learned to escape bullying by imagining a beautiful world inside of her young and innocent mind. She drew inspiration from tattered books, Disney movies and the cotton-candy clouds that used to glide across the blue sky outside of her window.

Whenever she closed her eyes, her mind would travel to places that rivaled those of the middle-earth kingdoms; places of enchanted beauty and ethereal grace.

There, she discovered inner peace; a sliver of herself that no bully could ever take away, and there she gained strength to battle endless jeers, malicious torment and pain.

This child got bullied.

A pack of young girls – angelic on the outside but rotten on the inside – found pleasure in tormenting her and sought out sadistic ways of bringing tears to her eyes. Traveling in a pack of five, they’d stalk her after school, throw dirt in her face, call her nasty names and even accuse her of theft.

Once, the leader of the pack hit her on the back of her head because she refused to share her ice cream.

The child fell in love for the first time in second grade. His name was Vanya; he had blonde, cherub-like curls, cornflower-blue eyes and full, pouty lips.

She presented him with a handmade card as a token of her admiration for him, but he ripped it in half and spit in her face. Then, he called her ugly and ran away.

Years passed by and the child became a teenage girl.

With physical changes came hormonal outbursts and bouts of insecurities. The teenage girl gained weight and with extra pounds came insults and self-hate. Every sliver of her body was disgusting in her eyes, especially when compared to the slim and tanned models in the glossy pages of the prestigious fashion magazines.

Fitting room sessions would often end in tears, complaints and angry shouting. The reflection in the mirror was an undesirable, grotesque monster that the teenage girl couldn’t stomach.

She cried herself to sleep every night; she wanted to be thin, pretty and popular.

But, with every attempt to change her appearance, she lost a sliver of her true self. She became obsessed with opinions of those who were never her friends, she sought out ways to impress boys whose hearts drowned in vanity and conceit, and while she tried to fit in with the popular crowd in school, she lost her own identity.

And worse, she became a bully herself.

Her heart became infested with hatred, venom and pride. She spread malicious rumors, wreaked havoc and spawned heartache. The outcome of the cruel game she enjoyed to play trickled into an ocean of tears, agony and pain.

Those years of selfishness, conceit and arrogance had barred the entrance to the enchanted world she had imagined as a child to escape the torment and pain. She never thought she’d find her way back there again until one day.

More years drifted by and the teenage girl became a young woman.

Karma had taught her important lessons: honesty, respect and confidence. After years of wandering aimlessly through a fog of confusion, her heart no longer ached to be accepted by society. Instead, she yearned to travel down the road that no one else had dared to take.

The young woman embarked on a journey to regain her inner peace, but once again she faced harsh criticism. Bitter tongues deemed her originality as blasphemy and instead of showing support, spread malicious rumors and wished her pain.

This time however, the young woman finally found her way back to the enchanted kingdom she had imagined as a child. There, awaiting her safe return was the inner peace that fueled her strength.

The young woman sailed through the hatred, bitterness and criticism with grace. For she learned that she was invincible because she believed in herself and no one but her had the power to tear down her dreams.

The moral of the story is simple, my friends. Remain true to yourself despite the constant jeers, insults and criticism that might get thrown in your face. Remember, bullies thrive on weakness, uncertainty and fear, but have the strength to stand up to those pathetic jerks and fight for your beliefs.

But, remember to speak words of kindness and your heart will always be at peace.

Bullies, Be Gone

Impossible Friendship

I sat across from a man that I swore I would never see again. Yet, fate has a mysterious – if not a cruel – way of bringing us together, and under rather interesting circumstances too.

My heart is sore.

Your friendship has been impossible to obtain and I want to bury these memories into the cold, damp soil in hopes that they will never see the golden sunlight again.

Someday, perhaps, these tainted memories will blossom into a scarlet rose.

My mind was riddled with these thoughts and even though we picked out a small, private table outside, I still couldn’t breathe.

He was leaving the country in a couple of days and the thought of his feet touching a different continent gave me a nauseating feeling.

Suddenly, I pushed away the dainty cup – while he was in the middle of divulging details of his upcoming trip – and slammed a scrunched up five dollar bill on the round, metal table.

He paused, unsure of what I was trying to accomplish. He never liked my spontaneity because he always thought he had me figured out.

“Good luck. I have to go. I forgot that I have to work on a presentation,” I lied and gave him a polite smile.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, his green eyes searching for mine.

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I hurried out of the café before he bombarded me with questions that I couldn’t answer. I slipped my arms into the pleather sleeves of my bomber jacket and melted into the faceless crowd of strangers that rushed down the sidewalk.

I shoved my clenched fists into the pockets and gritted my teeth.

I left my sunglasses in the car, back in Chinatown, and I couldn’t help but feel stupid as I started crying in public. My tears earned a couple of concerned stares but I kept my eyes pinned to the cracked asphalt as I slipped by the eager tourists that dotted Little Tokyo and hurried down Hope St.

My heart felt like an open piñata, and all of its content was out in the open for him to analyze. I knew it was a mistake to see him and I knew that he’d win this fight – he always knew what to do and say in these situations.

He’d always come out a victor.

And at that moment, I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and share the pain that coursed through me with the innocent bystanders that stood at the cross section with me and waited for the green light.

I was being selfish and yet, I didn’t care.

I jogged up the stairs to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion when I heard him call out my name. He reached the top, panting slightly, and the sight of him completely out of breath with beads of perspiration on his forehead made me laugh.

He failed to see the humor in the situation. “What the hell was that all about? Why did you run out on me like that?”

He was angry.

“There’s nothing else for me to say. I wished you good luck. That’s all. End of story.”

“Oh, come on! I wanted to leave this country on good terms. Why are you acting like I still owe you an apology? You were warned. You have always been warned about my reputation!”

“I remember. I just—” there were so many words that I wanted to yell in his face but just like the school of silver fish in the ocean, I couldn’t grab a hold of any of them. And, there was an array of emotions that I wanted to run through but I couldn’t identify which one of them I wanted to display first.

Anger? Sorrow? Confusion? Nonchalance? Happiness?

I started to cry again – he had an uncanny gift of bringing tears to my eyes and twisting my emotions into a cherry knot. I stood a few inches away from him and it literally felt as though we were the only two people on Earth.

No one else mattered.

“I’ll miss you, homie. Despite the pain you put me through, I still wish you the best.”

He took a deep, exasperated breath and raked his fingers through his hair. For the first time, I saw a hint of sorrow in his green eyes and that’s when I realized he was hurting too.

He pulled me into a warm embrace. “I’ll miss you too.”

Impossible Friendship

Don’t Speak

ever-after-danielle-swimming-450

Tears streamed down her face and burned the soft, crimson flesh of her cheeks as she pressed the cool bottle of Absolut to her forehead and studied the cotton-candy clouds that floated across the blue sky outside of her windows. She bathed her listless limbs in the warmth of the morning sun as she lay on a shaggy rug, amidst the broken glass that was scattered across the living room, and rested her feet on the velvet cushions of the tufted, turquoise sofa.

A faint, crackling sound pierced the silence as the needle of her antique phonograph scratched the surface of a spinning vinyl record and breathed life to the legendary voice of Nina Simone. The deep, melancholy Black Is the Color of My True Love’s Hair drifted over the graveyard of massacred paintings piled next to the shattered picture frames, an upturned coffee table with its tapered legs reaching out to the exposed ceiling pipes, two fractured table lamps and a sea of slashed chiffon curtains sprawled across the walnut floor.

Izabel took a swig of vodka and fought back the urge to cough as the clear liquid raped the inside of her throat.

The phone rang.

“Hey, you know what do do after the beep.” Beep!

“IZABEL, what the fuck! Answer your goddamn phone. I know you’re at home, sulking like a lazy cow over this stupid breakup. Try not to commit suicide until after our afternoon meeting with the client -” an angry honk in the background drowned out her sister’s angry voice, “-green means go, you stupid fuck!”

Click.

Izabel closed her eyes and imagined floating atop of a lake. Its placid surface mirrored the steel-grey sky above and matched the rhythm of her deliberate backstrokes to the chirping of the birds that sang among the tall, conifers.

A familiar voice echoed throughout the surrounding boreal forest, spearing the dense fog, and called out her name. It spawned a lonely tear. The crystal drop snaked down her pallid cheeks and melted into her frozen, blue lips. She continued to swim through the cold water. Her lifeless body sailed out of everyone’s reach and drifted towards a place where she could spend the rest of her life in solitude.

Don’t Speak