Jealousy is an ugly thing. It starts as a shadow of a thought, growing bigger by the second, forming into an endless abyss of self-hatred, fear, and misery. It never stops. It never silences. It can only drown you in it’s infinite darkness.

You see, she hadn’t been the first in someone else’s life before. But he came along and chose her above all. She finally belonged to someone that made her happy, a feeling she only recently got accustomed to. He made her feel like she matters, at least to him.

But he doesn’t know how it breaks her heart every time she feels his attention float to another girl. A girl he might like. A girl he might love. Because there are many that are better than her, she knows this. And she fears she isn’t enough for him sometimes. That he needs more.

And so her heart breaks, when he looks at another girl twice. It’s a horrible feeling when he sweet talks a passerby. She can’t help but notice the way his eyes follow the pretty ones. And she feels sadness beyond imagination, when his mind is impressed by a smart one. And she hopes she’ll never have to witness when his soul is inspired by another, because that…that would break her.

She wishes she was trusting. Not of him, but of life. But life has showed her that it can turn people’s hearts dark. Even the ones closest to her. He loves her, she knows he does, but so have others whom have betrayed her. So she prays that she can be enough for him, even when he thinks about others. And she prays with her tortured mind and heavy soul, he continues to choose her even when he meets better.


She … Him

She needs him like a man needs air, endlessly and constantly.

She cares for him as a mother cares for her children, unconditionally and infinite.

She yearns for him as a parched man yearns for water, tortured and wanting.

She misses him as two lovers miss each other across distances, passionately and brokenly.

She loves him the way love is undefined, beautiful and true.

The Myriad Colors of Humanity 

We live in a world fabricated with colors. Each string of color represents the fundamentals of life. 

We have the white. The innocence we are born with that grows old and yellow as the days pass. We all maintain a certain degree of purity until we learn how to manipulate the world. 

Blue is the calm. The calm we feel at the end of a long day, before we enter the realm of sleep. Or the calm we feel laying in the arms of our lovers. The calm before the storm, when we finally accept that we can’t stop the unstoppable. The calm in the absolute certainty that the sun will come up tomorrow and it’ll be the start of yet another day. 

Nature is the green on the spectrum. We maintain it, love it, and yet we destroy it everyday because we love ourselves more. The naturists exist, and the minimalists, and the vegans, and so on. But this world is built on the price of nature, and we never lose sleep over it. 

Violet. A strong color. To represent our passions. Things we feel strongly about. The addiction to adventure that some of us strive of off. The satisfaction we get from aspiring after what we like: Art, books, music, the things we find beauty in. Some of us have passions that are extraordinary, studying astrology because some are fascinated by the unknown. Becoming successful billionaires because some have great minds. This all stems from passion. Those people, I call violet. 

Yellow for the bright. The shining among us, the ones that are easy to be loved. The uncomplicated, the naive, the ones that turn a blind eye to the universe’s deep, dark corners. The ones that live ignorant are the ones in bliss. 

Gray is for the lost. Who can’t find their purpose and stay wanderers. They never settle, are never satisfied, always restless. Happiness comes to them in fleeting moments that they turn away from. They choose to find themselves in the wrongs, then later ask for forgiveness. They live in the gray shades of the world, never white and innocent, not always black and guilty. 

Black is for the tortured. They do wrong by the world because the world did wrong by them. We enjoy them because it’s easy for us to blame others for our faults. But every black soul is born white. 

Red. Red. Red is intensity. The intensity we feel when we fall down and hurt ourselves. Red is for pain. Red is for madness. Red is for sadness. Red is for happiness. Red is for love. The most basic human emotion. Our secret desires and dark fantasies, red. A heartbreak. A new love. A mother and her daughter. Family. True friendship. Red. 

We would like to believe that people can be categorized into one color. It would be easier. Simple. But we are the greatest beings on Earth because we are a wide spectrum of colors. In fact, each one of us is a beautiful, unique combination of shades of the colors. Remember that. 

I Love You is Never Enough

Sometimes words fail me. They fail me when I want to describe how much I love him, the mundane ‘I love you’ never enough. Sometimes I want to tell him that he is the only person in the world that I can talk to, the only person I want to talk to, because no one understands me like he does. And I want to tell him that I live for his good morning and goodnight kisses, they begin and end my day. I want to tell him that I have never had a home until I laid in his arms one night. Now he is my home. I want to tell him that I want his happiness more than I want my own; and when he’s sad, my soul rips apart in despair. I want to tell him that he is the most beautiful soul I have ever seen. And I want to tell him that even though we don’t see eye to eye at times, honey, you are my dream come to life. My love for you would engulf a thousand oceans and still survive. Darling, I love you more than I can ever describe, so just take me into your arms tonight. 

Rebel Queen

She had red lips and a sharp wit like all fantasies. Her eyes were deep with a faraway dream of a wild life with no demands. She only had two cents and a cause to her name. She’d stop for the night, in an unnamed town with similar faces as the ones she’s seen all her life. She hustled the mighty with a smile on her face. Her mind was her secret weapon and she had allies in scattered places. She was a rebel with a cause. 

The women hated her for the confidence she oozed, what kind of girl doesn’t have a care in the world? And the men, they chased her just for a taste, but they never had a chance at all. But she’ll come to you in the night, begging you with whispers to take the weight for awhile. And in the morning, she’ll disappear, a rebel chasing down a dream. 

She never bothered to create ties, because the distance will rip into them one at a time. She was never one for small talk, either, easily bored from the mundane life. And she stops on the side of the road, just to feel the sunshine on her skin. She was giddy with freedom. The rebel with the world as her adventure. 

Him and Her

She needed him as the parched man needed water in the desert. She loved him as the waves loved the shore, infinitely consistent. She followed him as the moon followed the sun, caught in an endless chase.  

He had a magnificent soul, with a heart made of pure gold. A glorious man with a mind so stunning, like an undiscovered city waiting to be found. He loved her passionately and endlessly as a pirate’s search for gold. 

But she was not easy to love, she’d take him into battle more often than not. And he’d succumb to her demands, for he will fight his darling not. And the aftermath is always gory, she regretting, and him forgiving. But she can not take his love for granted. For he is only human, after all. 

But, my love, you are the treasure I’ve been looking for. You are my designed city, I have mapped your boundaries, routes, and roads. You are the river in the desert I have been lost on. I promise you, our battles will be saved for the world, not our love. 


She was always a little too much. She either hated with her whole being or loved with her mighty heart. She was too quiet or too loud. Too careful or too wild. There was no in-between for her. For she was everything or nothing at all. And she, she is not for everyone, she knows her fire scares them so they shy away from her intensity. She was not perfect nor would she ever be. She had faults, her faults were just like the rest of her, just a little too much. But she hopes that the ones that don’t runaway, don’t turn away from her, will know, know that she does, and will always love them with every bone, every thought, every moment she has. And God, does she hope that that will be enough.