“Indigo child, you hid secret under graves, picked at the lamb stuck between teeth, felt around for monsters we once reaped. But the monster turned out to be free.”

Remember me in burnt coffee mornings, warm hugs, fresh sunday snow. Know that you loved me too cautiously.

The autumn breeze carves out an ache in your memory.

Caution! This vehicle stops quite frequently when overwhelmed.

I miss you a little less each day. You’re just a faded memory now – delicate; tucked away.

You are worthy of feeling incredibly and unapologetically alive.

What a shame – how the taste of you could rot even the cedar and cypress. How you fooled the redwood into believing narcissus’ pond was made for two.

It’s time for me to dust off this weary heart so that I may open it to one whose only open to me. You’re going to miss me when I’m gone and it’ll be too late.

My god is a moment, a whimsical idea, a whisper. A hope bending itself into a prayer.

Love is believable. I reckon I’ll just see it when I see it.

You have always been enough. Allow yourself to finally feel it.

What an intimidating kind of beauty a rainbow holds. Then of course, there’s the jealously dripping between vampirish teeth of those who dare mock it.

If I’m wrong about you, let’s face it instead of fading like tire marks swallowed by rain. Run me into the midst of a storm. Leave me to drown there.

Some days, my mind still flickers, but the light doesn’t stay on. Kind of like the hope I felt when your fingers squeezed my palm. But they simply call that a reflex.

Needle in a haystack, a small town on a roadmap, searching for you through the abstract- how incredibly hard to find.

If y’all like spooky season just examine my brain. It’s plastered across this page on display.

You ever stare at something so long the colors blend together? Even the most neutral tones take on a life of their own, fold themselves into shapes that morph into creatures – wolves and goblin.

After a point, it doesn’t matter where you come from. There are many star kids who haven’t done well in the industry and rank newcomers who have done amazingly well.

If I ever have a child. Insh’allah I will. I wish it’s a girl. I want a girl child.

Even while living in the world, the heart of Mary was so filled with motherly tenderness and compassion for men that no-one ever suffered so much for their own pains, as Mary suffered for the pains of her children.

The serpent, the king, the tiger, the stinging wasp, the small child, the dog owned by other people, and the fool: these seven ought not to be awakened from sleep.

I don’t teach my children what is Hindu and what is Muslim.

I was the poorest kid in my school, poorest kid in my town, poorest family. That stayed with me forever.

When I was a little kid, all I wanted to do was to escape what I thought was the country and get to a city. Probably film and television had influenced me so much, I really thought the key to happiness was living a very artificial life in a penthouse in New York with martini glasses.

If I ever have a child. Insh’allah I will. I wish it’s a girl. I want a girl child.