The end. Darkness TW: Suicide attempt In tears, I run to my room and feel the rush of emotions filling my mind with thoughts of putting an end to the pain that consumes my heart. “You broke me into pieces”, I repeated. You made me … Continue reading Death Bed
Author: Unfinished Rooms
I write from the middle of things, where memory lingers like dust in corners, and healing is still in progress.
Unfinished Rooms is the space I return to, the emotional architecture of my life, half-built and still echoing.
Here, I gather the fragments. The grief. The laughter. The silence.
Here, I write lived stories.
Always raw. Sometimes tender. Never complete.
And other times, when it’s too much to feel, I escape into stories I make up.
Stories that echo my truth, even when they aren’t real.
This blog is me, making a home inside the mess.
Rebuilding, one Unfinished Room at a time.
Intimacy
Rumba We slowly dance to our heartbeats intertwined, like the synergy of the different elements of Mozart. Melodies of cabernet flow through our palate infusing red and white grapes of cabernet franc and sauvignon blanc. The air smells like raindrops and coffee. The soft keys … Continue reading Intimacy
Lost in time.
Minestrone and Oreos. A 5-Year-Old's Delicacy Happiness smelled like minestrone soupserved in chipped little bowls,and paired with thick slices of brown breadthat steamed in the cold evening air. The warmth of rooibos tea rested in my small hands,the mug almost too big for my grip,but … Continue reading Lost in time.
Paintbrush🖌️
TW: Self Harm Painting I didn’t sleep today, and my roommate was snoring like a tractor, and they woke me up early to take my blood. I felt my mood dip, a volcano of emotions waiting to erupt. I can’t define them. But it almost … Continue reading Paintbrush🖌️
Jazzy Sunday Blues
A Woman’s Lust It’s Sunday afternoon, and the day is colder with every passing minute. Birds chirp silently in their nests as they bake eggs. I make you some and in between giving you ’some‘, I kiss you. You’ve always preferred breakfast for dinner, And … Continue reading Jazzy Sunday Blues
Jazzy Sunday Blues 2
A Man’s Lust It's a serene Sunday afternoon, and it's cooler than most. The birds engage in pillow-talk on their nests, peacefully as they avoid breaking their eggs. She’s making me eggs. She’s experimenting with a new recipe, a twist on the classic omelette, and … Continue reading Jazzy Sunday Blues 2
My Road To Recovery
Am I an Alcoholic? It’s 4 pm and I wake up with a hangover from having drunk since 9 am. I stagger to the kitchen, to see if there is any more I can drink. “Perfect” I whisper and crack open another bottle of beer. … Continue reading My Road To Recovery
A Journal of Rebuilding
Who am I?To rebuild is to say, ”I am still here, still becoming“. Unfinished Rooms I have spent long nights lying awake, Trying to answer the question: “Who am I?” But no matter how often I circle it, The answer refuses to land. Instead, what … Continue reading A Journal of Rebuilding
Chronicles of “The Nut House”
The Clinic Here I am once again, foraging my emotions. “How are you feeling?” My psychologist asks. “I’m okay” I answer with not much thought. I’m surrounded by walls imprisoning those whose thoughts have laid deep within their subconscious. Except, I’m not in prison. My … Continue reading Chronicles of “The Nut House”
Unfinished Rooms 