Creative Writing Love

A Secret In The Closet

I wish I could tell you a story of a happier time, but that time has taken on the sheen of vagueness.

The problem with being on this earth is that all that we do is a delusion. And all the delusions die when the money runs out. So does the privilege. I wish I wanted what I had instead of wanting what I didn’t have.

I’ve seen too many tears spilled in funerals by loved ones. It was never because of the loss but the sadness and regret of not treating the newly departed with the love and kindness that they deserved when they were alive.

I knew that prayers come true as do wishes. But only sometimes. I now understand why angels fear to tread on earth. It’s because they make the mistake of falling in love, and losing everything.

I say the names of those who died so I won’t forget. I won’t forget that this is my destiny too. Some people reside in the hurts between 3am and 6am. The Lord knows this. And, he listens. Not anymore.

I am now forever stuck. Afraid to face my fears. 30 years ago, I had five minutes to shape the rest of my life. And, I did. Now I live in regret.

He opened the closet and ruffled through coats and shirts, and he heard the tingling of silver feathers that had gathered earthly dust. He shook his wings and caressed them longingly. Like most things in life, the opportunity to leave had passed.

Creative Writing Love

A Long Good Bye

I wish there was a period at the end of our sentence.

It would mean closure.

But you placed a comma mid sentence which means this story continues.

A semi-colon when you talk is a pause too long.

A colon starts a run of complaints, excuses, broken promises and threats.

Our tale simmers towards the end with a question mark.

I guess uncertainty is what our future holds.

Grieving for a person while they are alive.

Time will erase you first, and then I.

This is the way it is.

This is the way it should never have been.

Creative Writing Love


Dignity never lived here.

Dignity never got a chance.

He weaponized a question.

He was polite enough to ask: Shall I kill your hopes and dreams?

What was I to do except smile and say – As you wish.

Creative Writing Love

This Thing Called Delusion

Loneliness made me crave you.

And this inconvenience called a relationship.

Now I laugh.

At myself.

For my stupidity.

For my greeness.

To realize that I’ve been kissing a delusion all this time.

And to think that your kisses were like a postcard from Spain.

Your stink like an Hallmark envelope unfurling.

A message for me to taste.

I laugh at myself.

To think I could get a Happy Ending with a person like you.

Creative Writing Love


Where do you think our conversations go?

You know, the ones we have over wine and whiskey.

I think the adjectives like to disappear into the sky, and are
snuffed out like a star past its prime.

The verbs, however, stay between us.

Let’s kiss now (although you might not like the plans my hands have for you tonight).

Creative Writing Love


I never meant you to have L P Hartley.

I only meant for you to borrow him.

I meant it as an excuse.

An excuse that you could use.

An excuse for you to come back again.

A chance to see me again.

Creative Writing Love


What do I call this?



This feeling of despondency that covers me when you’re not near.

This need to see your face.

This madness to hold your hand.

This smile I wear when I smell you so familiar.

This want to see you standing next to me.

This despair I feel when you don’t call. 

I think I will call it — Love.

Creative Writing Love

A Kindness Wasted

The only reason I gave you this kindness was because I cared.

Some of us give more than we take.

I didn’t expect the rest.

I didn’t expect you to take this kindness and think that it was forgiveness.

You took that kindness as weakness and as forgiveness and started life anew — with someone else.

That kindness was a kiss. A kiss that was meant to heal and build a bridge.

Your tone was a bit removed. I inhaled your rejection. It stinks.

But you know, don’t you? It’s us. The ones who break that save the ones that broke.

Creative Writing Love


I needed a +1 for life.

Not a Lebanon.

But a Sweden.

I just wanted your No Uncertain Terms to be Certain enough.

You just wanted me to believe your lies long enough so I couldn’t focus on your real moves.

I didn’t want the demons of your trauma to follow you towards me.

I didn’t want your curled-lip cruelty.

We were both on a flight to destination Sadness.

I realized too late that I had bought a one-way ticket.

You’ll never know what a heart of a widow is like.

But now it’s easy to forget you with every post my new beloved makes.

Every newsfeed I subscribed to has washed you away.