This is written in response to Denise’s Six Sentence Story word prompt – Mess.

That was probably the hardest video call he had to make, the ambience filled with a sense of dread.

“I decided to take the teaching job offer and stay in Berlin”, he launched straight into it without delaying the blade.

Silence, absolutely silence, then her eyes welled up, then the screen went blank, clearly, she hanged up.

Then the text came, “Obviously, you have made up you mind. I have nothing to say and no strength to fight for us anymore. I wish you all the best and I still love us, but that’s the past .”

After sending the text, she let her tears roll down like a waterfall sitting in the waiting area of the abortion clinic; what was a decision to be made, now is a conclusion.

From the soundbar, Ami Winehouse is singing, “…love is a losing game, one I wished I never played, oh what a mess we made…”

It’s Not Meant to Be

We don’t need much encouragement to ignite a thousand fireflies.
Talking about the weather is our way to keep the ambience lukewarm.
People talk about chemistry or destiny.
Though we both know that it’s the knowing which only dreamers know; the touching which only lovers fathom.

We don’t need much encouragement to spread a wild fire.
Being silent is what we can master to mask the need.
People talk about soul mates or twin flames.
For us, it’s just two people happily know each other but never feel the need to meet.

We don’t need much encouragement to burn up heaven.
Leaving without saying goodbye is the only way that we survive from each other.
People talk about love and affair.
We know too well that we choose neither.

So it’s just like we said it would be, forever perfectly perfect.


It was at grandad’s wake, new faces I saw. I didn’t remember or know all those people in my family. I could tell that we were related by their strong jawlines and pear-shaped body.

There was a lot of chatter and whisper going around in the room, mostly about who would inherit what, and a little bit gossip about the affair between aunty Joan and uncle Peter.

I moved my wheelchair through them quietly, and the sympathy look they gave me made me feel uncomfortable. The accident was over a decade ago when I was three. It’s not as if I knew a better way to live. I was quite comfortable in my skin and a happy person.

I removed myself from the crowd and tended to the orchids grandpa loved. We used to go around the nursery to appreciate their beauty, trim dead leaves and spray mist to keep the humidity up. I knew I would always find grandpa here even his body was laying cold in the wooden box.

Grandpa told me lots stories about his past as well as his plans for the future after he turned his toes. I knew for a fact that everybody out there in the room would hate me. As much as I wanted to live on the sidelines for the rest of my life in this family, just like the past eighteen years. But I knew it wasn’t going to be possible. The truth was going to come out when they realised there was no inheritance that would go to any of them.

Over the years, grandpa and I gradually moved all his wealth to the National Trust as a silent donor, except this mansion, all its expenses for maintainance, current staff and other outgoings, and medical treatment and substantial amount of cash would come to me. Grandpa made sure I would always have my home where he promised to visit from time to time. I was content because I would always have a home where grandpa’s love echoed within these four walls.

I could hear “Time to Say Goodbye” playing and I guessed everyone in the family was in the main hall for grandpa’s funeral. A butterfly landed on the prayer plant in front of me which made me smile. It’s a sure confirmation that grandpa was absolutely not in that coffin, instead, he was here with me.

Date Night

Let’s go to Luna Park at night
When exhausted children heading home with big smiles
You and I go for rides in empty carts

We warm up with Ferris Wheel slowly climbs into the sky
watching twinkling lights

Bring back teenager romance on the Tango Train
Our breaths and bodies pulled in one by physics

Loosen ourselves on the Boomerang Rollercoaster
Momentarily break off restraint like horizontal yoyos

Before Mr Whippy’s iconic ice cream treat
Catch the thrill of the Hair Raiser
We get temporary hairdos
Mistaken our stomachs for hearts

I had a wonderful night darling
You made me smile and shine
We kissed under the lights
falling once again in each other’s eyes


Under my tongue
lie unformed words
like a cluster of emotions
hidden in the silence
you so despise

is not enough
You demand reasons
for the way I am

Apology is not
a peace offering
that pleases you

I offer us peace
by biting my tongue
to set us free

Pas Ce Soir

Friday night
the city becomes alive

She touches up her red lips
just in time for the stranger’s arrival

The conversation between them are smooth
gliding over her Persian blue silk blouse
and his flattering compliment

His fingertips casually strike out thermal waves
with each intentional brush of her arm

It’s getting beyond cosy warm there
and his scent smells late night passion
He moves closer and whispers desire in her ear

Confronted by his tempting invitation
she pinches herself hard
leaving a mark on her inner thigh
where wild nights used to overstay
and never had the courtesy to pay her with respect

She remembers all that devastating aftermath
So she leans over and whispers to him
“Pas Ce Soir”

My Best Is Poisonous

love boils down 
to ordinary minutes and hours
it is hard to escape 
from the mundane 
of food, sleep 
and bathroom trips

it makes it harder 
to please you
when my cooking always
falls short of your mother's

the only thing I manage better
is baking cakes
which turns out to be
a slow murder
to the diabetic you

Purple Dream

I remember watching you disappeared into the sea of jacaranda last Spring.
You took the ending chapter of our story with you and left me with the blank pages.

Last night, I dreamed of reading by the jacaranda tree. Purple hearts filled the empty pages overflowing like confetti.

In the morning I reached out for the remnant of you. But the Autumn air was cold enough to frost my purple dream.
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