Sometimes I wonder when my mother started grabbing my hand every time we crossed the road. I don’t know if she always did it, or if it began after the accident. But when I think about it now, it feels like one of the earliest … Continue reading The Hand That Found Mine
Tag: #love
It’s Always Been You
A reflection on love, presence, and the quiet places where it has always lived; in oceans, friendships, music, stillness, and light.
The Deleted Folder
Sometimes I imagine my trauma like an iPhone.You know how when you delete something, it doesn’t go away? It simply moves to the “Recently Deleted” folder for 30 days, waiting to be permanently erased.But in my case, the folder never empties.The memories don’t expire.They sit … Continue reading The Deleted Folder
Two Sundays
Writer’s Note: This piece reflects the stillness and ache of memory. It's about the kind of love that shapes us even after it ends. It lives inside specific moments, like Sundaymornings, and becomes an enduring part of us. I wrote this with brutal honesty, blending … Continue reading Two Sundays
Still Living In That House
Writer’s Note This piece is part memory, part feeling, and part search. It is not a linear story. It moves like memory does; fragmented, circular, sometimes clear and sometimes smudged. I wrote this not because I have answers but because I needed space for the … Continue reading Still Living In That House
11 p.m.
“I miss having sex with you,” I confess, My fingers tracing the screen in the hush of a dim room, The clock was nearing 11 p.m. Days had passed like whispers. Before his message finally arrived: He was back in Cape Town, returning from the … Continue reading 11 p.m.
You, after All
Stages of Grief ~ Acceptance Two years have passed since our paths diverged, Yet your presence still lingers in the quiet corners of my mind a steady beacon amid the ebb and flow of time. Your image, though softened by the passing seasons, remains etched … Continue reading You, after All
Yet another Sunday with You
Intertwined. Sundays. It’s a balmy day. I woke up to my husband’s arms stretched out towards me. To my surprise, my eyes widen from a blurry vision. A tray of warm flapjacks topped with bacon and a mimosa to pair with. The taste is fluffy, … Continue reading Yet another Sunday with You
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
Unfinished Rooms 