I haven’t written anything in a while; maybe because I’ve been so busy with work, friends and family or probably because I didn’t have inspiration or I’ve just become a
“Take my hand, let me help you”, Were his words to her, she smiled shyly, No words necessary, a risk she was willing to take, To follow a path, that
In the darkest of the night, I long for his touch, In the long silent nights, I miss his words, The one my heart desires and my soul sings for,
Do you wonder, Why people try to hide their imperfections? Whereas the imperfections are what make us who we are Define us and distinguish us from others? We are perfect
A gaze of intense feelings, as his eyes looked into hers, The wanting and desire seemed to escalate, her legs quivering, Aching and biting need, longing for winds of his
Dear Dad, It’s been 2 years 10 months since you suddenly left this world. Things have changed a lot around here but before we get down to that I just
“Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It’s the transition that’s troublesome” Isaac Asimov. It all depends on how you choose to live your life; happy or miserable. I may not
I do not have a perfect writing space as I usually write when I’m at work; not because I’m not busy or that my job description involves writing, but because
“You may now kiss each other for the rest of your lives” said the priest. We had already said our final “I do’s and were pronounced husband and wife. All
“I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst,