a work in progress

Category: Stuff About Your Body (Page 1 of 3)

The nerve centre.

It had been dead.



I’d seen blood and body rush out.

Forming rivers in a shower.

Fusing and departing.

I’d seen a life.

It breaks you in so many ways.

We think the worst of it is in the womb.

Or in the mind.

But it’s also there.

From where it leaves.

And so.

For nights, for days on end.

I’d sought something.

To fill the void.

The doctors said six weeks of no sex.

But they were happy to stick up a plastic cold probe up my vagina and wiggle the shit out of it.

And I had no idea.

My vagina.

Had been through a trauma of it’s own.

And now I realise.

How fucking insensitive and unaware we are.

Of course it feels.

Of course it breathes.

It is life.

It is the creator of life.

And when it was finally loved.

I wept.

And wept.

And wept.

In the dark of the night.

Finally maybe, I could begin to feel anew.


Why are we living in the manic?
Why so busy?
Why so committed?
Why so overloaded?

Why no time to breathe.
No time to walk.
No time to laugh.

Where are we running to?

You know it’s pointless right?

Because you might show up.
But energy doesn’t lie.

So let go of the angst.
And pace it.

We’ve got a long way to go.


Keys Out

I wish.
The thoughts in my head.
Would just hit a dead end.
Switch into park.
And stop.

Engines off.


It just is.

You can never tick all the boxes.

Before it’s too late

You lost the love.
You lost the love.
Somewhere between then and now.
You lost the love.

The tendrils upon her face.
The depth in your eyes.

You lost the love.

Now there is just the everyday.
There is no cherish.
I’m searching for the laughter and I can’t find it.

She doesn’t laugh.
Neither do you.

There is care.
There is concern.

But let me not be fooled.
There is no.

No adoration.

Your sign?
The bickering.

Decades from now?
It’ll be rage.
Or maybe it won’t even be decades away.
Just a year or two will do.


Trade it my friend.
Trade the bickering for love.
Before you let it poison her.

So long gone, you can’t identify the woman you were once so deeply in love with.

It’s on you.
Because she’s past halfway there my friend.



It’s our responsibility to ask the questions.

// I always felt I didn’t need to know about the investments, about the money, about the fine lines, about my own health and more. I put this ownice on Vivek. I’m learning now. Everything to do with me and Aru, is my responsibility. And I need to know, I need to be informed. 

Is depression?

Perhaps not the act that cause you become / be / do. But the after math of all of that. 

The dawning. 

The Trained Introvert

I used to be quiet. I used to cry every day that I had to attend kindergarten, probably for months. My dad sent the driver with a big ruler in the boot to ensure I wasn’t to come back home in the car, but to get out of the car instead. 

I didn’t like parties or functions. 
Then at some point, it dawned on me. 

That perhaps, to be popular. 

You needed to smile and laugh and socialise. 

Perhaps to be loved among your peers and respected, 

You needed to turn on the charm and dial out the right details. 

And so I did. 

I got the popularity. 

I got the 500+ on Facebook. 

I got the “friends”. 
But I stopped being who I innately was. 

I lost all that for this falsehood. 
And truth is. 

I don’t really want the 500. I just want the 5. 

And the truth is. 

I don’t want to pretend anymore. 
I’d rather be me. 

Private. Quiet. 
But happy to be in the sun

With the right person. 
Instead of the 100 wrong ones. 


Are You Tired? 

There could be 100 reasons why. 
But try turning off the wifi and the data for a day. 

And see if your brain feels better for it. 

For the chance to breathe. 

A chance to 



Are you listening? 

Your body is telling you things. But are you listening to what it’s saying? 
It’s saying what your soul has been saying from long before. 

But your soul can’t seem to get through to you. 
So it’s using a physical sign you can’t deny exists. 

You can’t suppress it. 

Are you listening? 


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