Dreamland.

You’ve been walking For so long On the fine line Between dreams And reality. Take my hand And lets tumble Headfirst Into the land Where we can wear Magic on the tip Of our tongue, Taste the stars On our lips, And laugh at Reality For ever thinking It could Trap us. -Rupali Jeganathan \…

Sentranced.

Sentranced: Captivated by a beautifully written sentence.   I want to devour the words from the pages, until it is not blood in my veins, but your words; till they fill me up, and make me feel alive; till I become the words I read. But, I’m just left staring at the pages, over and over…

Don’t fall for him//(Abort Mission)

Don’t fall for him. I repeat, do not. When the tall guy with the irresistible voice tells you he loves you, don’t believe him. When the guy with the amber colored eyes that you fell for in the first glimpse winks at you and gives you a half smirk half smile, don’t fall head over…

The Coffee Shop.

I’m the girl in the coffee shop Writing about you, the boy On the other side of The glass door. Rihanna is crooning in my ear About how even if she reaches all her fingers She can feel more than distance between them. And that’s how I feel Looking at you You spot me, and…

A lovely afternoon that turned into hell at 5:30pm

He was sitting on a bench in the street, in his hand there was a book, heavy with thousands of words and heavy like the traffic of thoughts he had in his mind. The morbid traffic was there to stay. He had no hurry. He was just looking. He saw hundreds of cars, and inside…

Broken glass.

You’re broken glass, and I’ve got Shards of you, stuck to my skin They pierce me, with every breath I take Making me bleed, until I’m covered in blood But don’t they know, that I’m a masochist? Who craves the pain, that comes from loving you? I’ve got my lungs full of you Making it…

Sky of diamonds

All the time I think of the sky high above, full of stars and souls. Every time they blink up flies a frail dove that my heart stole. A piece of me stolen, a sky of stars swollen… The dove flies high, with candor I sigh. The dove is so frail but it brings a mail….

Me. Love. 

Art is creation, is the self-expression of the misunderstood. Art is suffering, some days it transforms into spring flowers and winter laughs, but some days it remains suffering. Mirrors are a trembling reminder of war. Personal and sentimental. Loneliness. Sometimes they are your only friend. Water fills our soul, sleep reduces the pain in it….

Drive, guy, drive

The car is out there. The peace, nowhere. That house stinks. It’s like a hell. The people there, they all yell. Go away, guy, go away. There is nothing left to say. Drive, guy, drive. Look for your wished hive. By Luca Arnaldo Read more texts by this author

The silent age of our happiness.

We live by day, and rest at night, we make our brains believe that we do not care a lot of what others say, but we die a little in the thought. Even though we live for attention. We hate the things that hurt us, but in secret we cherish them. We cherish dead and violence….

Stranded Cinderella

Originally posted in Spanish on our site Letras & Poesía I have strolled all those streets where you hugged me, looking in the corners for that joy I now think lost. I have walked through Madrid, asking around in the bars. I have poked around in the benches, in case I found us talking, and I…

Nowhere.

I never knew where I belonged. People were saying you belong to the country where you came from. They would say home is the only place that make you feel free. First time I felt free, I was in a house in Malaysia. I wake up surrounded by people that don’t know my name, nor…