A door you refused to open

I dream a dream on repeat
In it, is a door..

A tall, imposing old door
Ornate two-panels
A gold knob on the dark wood
Shaped like the face of a dragon
The more I looked
the more it grew
Intimidating, alive.
I refuse to open,
Who or what awaits on the other side?

I dream a dream..
Of a traditional carved door
Intricate motifs on its arched frame
A faint scent of white pine
Lingered in the air.
I reach out to touch,
but step back
It is not my door,
am I allowed to touch?

I dream a dream..
It is a dark mahogany door,
polished wood:
Glossy and fine
It stretched toward the sky.
I stand before it,
Tilting my head in awe.
But am I allowed
to stand here and stare?

I dream a dream..
Of a red door
with a big black lock
I lose myself
In its structured pattern.
To find such careful carving
Feels like an anomaly.
I stand again before it
I do not try to open it.

I dream a dream..
Of yet another door
Broken, laced with spider webs,
No door knob,
Moss creeping upward
Slowly eating the wood.
Afraid it might crumble at my touch,
I turn away.

I dream a dream..
Of multiple doors
each one closed
Afraid of choosing wrong,
Afraid of being lost,
I run,
I hide,
I cry.

I dream a dream..
Of a giant single black door
It towered over me
I walked towards it,
an ant in comparison
I remembered my Dada told me:
You’ll never know if you never try
I step forward,
But courage runs dry
and I turn behind.

I dream a dream..
Of a familiar door
A door from the past
Its surface remembers my touch
It was opened before
Something had escaped
Something I never named
I look away,
I cannot breathe
and wake with a start.

I dream a dream..
Of the same familiar door from the past
The handle awaits
I walk toward it,
Slowly,
My hand trembles
But this time,
I open it.

Blue sky
Green grass
A silent breeze
I breathe deep
And rise with a smile.

A Room with a Veil

A room with many windows
Each one dressed in a curtain
Every window the same
Yet no two veils alike.

One window is shut,
One is slightly open,
One stands completely ajar
One is guarded by a mesh.

The shut one wears
A thick blackout velvet curtain
With golden sealed borders.

A window open wide
Draped in a light pink sheer
Soft and airy
Swaying with the breeze.

One lets the light enter
Through a delicate lace
Gentle and patterned.

Another is adorned
With heavy intricate embroidery
Tied neatly with a bow

One hangs simply
With tassels and prints.
Another blooms in floral cotton
Playful and warm

Many windows
Many curtains
Satin
silk
velvet
cotton
linen.

Yet through none of them
Can you see the entire room
Only a veil of what lies within

For the room
was reserved
for only the one
living in it.

A Candle

A slick wax body,
sometimes thin, sometimes tall,
sometimes scented, round and small,
red, black or white,
in a glass or on a stand,
A candle –
in a thousand forms and shapes,
yet the flame is always the same.

Its purpose: to burn,
a spark brings it to life,
spilling warmth and light,
casting shadows that dance,
Perfuming the air,
Bringing joy to faces,
when placed on a cake.

A candle can also wound,
sear the hand that holds,
or burn down a house to ruins.
Feel sad while —
watching its body surrender,
Drop by drop,
Burning away,
To the silence of the wax.

Are we not the same?
Like candles, living flames.
Choosing how to burn
Entirely up to us..
Will we melt away in pain,
Or shine –
and illuminate the world before we fade?

This Love

We do not belong to one another,
Love has no possession.
We are not in love,
For love is not a cage.
We are not two halves,
For love makes us whole.
We see one another’s imperfections,
Love is not blind.
Yet my love is your salvation,
And yours is mine,
Instead of open wounds,
We bare silvery scars,
Healed by acceptance and nurture.
This love we share,
It heals us both,
Granting the strength for us to be,
Who we were born to be.

How to be a Triangle by Lilly Singh

Book Review

Self-Help | Motivation | Mental Health

Rating: 5 out of 5.

I picked up this book while browsing a bookstore at an airport. I was flying from one home to another, in a phase of my life where I was questioning and doubting my past and future. While flipping through the pages, I discovered that Lilly Singh and I share a mutual friend named Anxiety Singh. That was it—I knew I had to buy this book. I got super excited and quickly read as much as I wanted right there at the airport, but thankfully, I decided not to rush. I wanted to give this book the time it rightfully deserved because I truly do want to be a triangle.

Continue reading “How to be a Triangle by Lilly Singh”

Do what you love, love what you do 💞

Pursuing hobbies and passions for their own sake can be deeply fulfilling. Not everything needs to be turned into a business or monetized. Enjoying and continuing with something you love be it knitting, dancing, writing, sketching, or gaming, can bring joy, relaxation, and personal satisfaction, regardless of its commercial success.

Sending pink flowers and pink love your way. Happy day! 🌸🩷