I was not thinking clearly about anything.

I mean, I was just angry!

It was not jealousy.

I saw her in my dream,

screaming and yelling at me.

“Please”, she cried.

It is not jealousy;

I am way better than that,

Or so I thought.

But that would not explain the stained shirt.

Maybe it is jealousy.

What can I say?

I was not thinking clearly about anything.


I met him inside my dream again.

Only two of us talking,

He hurts himself again.

A car accident.

I was worried;

he said he was okay.

He told me his stories again;

I did not pay attention,

I did not want to know.

He was upset, and

tried to leave.

I reached out my hand,

“Stay?”, I begged him.

He stayed.

“Do you hate me?”,

I laughed a little.

“I wouldn’t be here if I hated you, Silly”

He smiled, “Well true, then

do you love me?”


You did not kill me

But I will be silent.


No breath will pass through my lungs,

No soul within my dark brown eyes.

No beat or throb in the once pumping heart.

Everything drowns into the silence.


I have not forgotten β€”

The choice you made

For me to remain silent;


So I shall, and so I will

Rotting in the walls of death.

The body is still

But I scream β€”

The scream is silent.


The small star that didn’t shine

The small star that didn’t shine today, did shine yesterday.

It shone brighter than any other star,

It burned itself down to give light to others.

That big beautiful star took away all the credits.

The small star still did its best.

The efforts are of no use, as it no longer exists.

In all, what everyone sees is that it didn’t shine.

This is it. The story of a small sister,

The small star that didn’t shine.


So, run little girl,

Run as far as your feet can take you.

Every step is thunder,

On rough land.

Until the land gives way,

To the steady strong beat,

Of your broken heart.


Fly, little one.

Fly like a bird!

Spread your torn wings,

Until the wind gives up,

To their desperate flutter.


Cry, little one.

Cry until every tear is shed,

And with it the pain.

For pain breaks you,

Just as much as it makes you.


Cry until the tears become a reminder of strength,

Rather than weakness.

For trying times demand every light of hope,

Left in your frail body.


Give. Live. Love. Breathe. Hope. Believe.