If darker days were behind

our picture frame,

Then we find in its shadow

All our faults to blame.


Light bulbs flicker in the night

While the radio sings until it’s dead,

Counting our last moments

Falling within our ocean bed.


I held your hand as you

Reached for mine.

Solace in a tender grip aside,

A lost thing so divine.


Coarse, weary, bone-tired,

Still your fingers remain as talons.

Waiting, waiting while we lay awake,

Our fear drowning us by the gallons.


The sirens grow louder, the lights less scant.

Our pendulum struck its last click.

We’ll let go together if you want,

When the clock stops in one tick.




Another day passes without your calls,

    my phone a false alarm

for eager minds.

Day and night blur through

windows and

sliding doors,

the light dances in a frenzy as the months

go by.

Ten messages a week, just to see

if you’re okay

in the fields of sand

you need and hate.

Is it possible to melt into the flow

of time,

for geographies

from flesh to be


Missing halves and pathetic coping

in the manner of

mannequin love and 

                                            Misleading  looks

                                  Were my only way

                                                                        To feel 

Your apparition,



A/N: this is just something I wrote while I was enduring hell week last year, to which 

I am going through again this month. Then again, I might call it hell month, since I’m going to

Be swamped with papers and projects for the next three weeks. Ugh. Such is life, beautiful and awful at the same time. 

Accidental Publishing

Um… Some of you may have seen that Count of Monte Cristo post that was published today and I have to say, that I had to take it down since it wasn’t finished yet. I know it’s a bit rude and I apologize for that, but I don’t want to post something unfinished. It would be even more embarrasing than taking down a post and editing/finishing it. The post would probably come back p within next week. By then I hope I have already finished. Again, sorry about the inconvenience and thanks for understanding. 😅
– extraordinary snail


A pen in hand, bleeding through shivering fingers,

Races to the paper’s edge, false promises and empty strokes linger

Still, ghosting the decimated canvas.

People staring with awkward smiles and cautious glances,

Hoping they could escape the pathetic person they see, who dances

Eagerly with predictability and self-deprecation.

Pretend, pretend they have no power until the lie

Sets in, no longer alien, morphine for the corpse who refuses to die,

All pain and suffering the marks of one’s life.



Random Stuff

Yes. Very creative title. I know.

Anyway this is just a test of the tags and categories. Sad to say, I am very new to this thing. Hopefully, it’ll be easier in the future. Sorry, don’t got the stuff yet. I would probably post something soon. Yeah. That’s it for now.

Bye bye