The Flower In My Hair

The dark, distracted look in his eyes, skillfully disguised by translucent sleep, has me magnetized, hypnotized. Crazy.
He left me no choice but to put a spell on him and tell him stories about my frozen winter nose. So, he let me call him mine for sometime and now. Now.
He does not break in my hands, I tried.

Chewing Gum

Wherever from, your entrances are grand ones and all I can ever do is to celebrate my helpless hurting heart cradled amidst half-trapped breaths.

My Equinox

Don't remember when
days were divided into
those with worry and those
without.
 
With a choice,
or no way out.