Category Archives: poems and more


“…pray for us sinners now and at the hour of death…” she prayed. Her lips moved fast, mumbling and rumbling over each word.

The room was dimly lit. At the very centre was an old statue of the Virgin in her customary blue and white robe holding her son in her arms. It no longer shone the way it used to and a few cob webs hang loosely from it and swayed in the soft breeze that swept the room. It was placed on an even older wooden table covered with delicate white lace. A few dozen stick thin candles were spread out on the floor right in front of Bati. Behind her was a little window that let in a flood of moonlight.

The flames from the candles licked the air as their red fiery and burnt orange light danced and bounced off the dusty walls. It shone brightly on the statue plastering a grotesque shadow on the rest of the wall above it, one that Bati decided to ignore. She kept her head bowed low, caught up in prayer.

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At dusk

It’s a close friend who finally tells you. Rosie. She’s the one who will do it. The one who gathered the guts to get it over and done with and finally tell you. But you had somehow already put the pieces of that puzzle together. You just didn’t want to see the picture with the neon sign over it. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes and so Rosie will do it for you. She will tell you everything. She will stay with you that night, armed with cookies and ice cream and a hard drive filled with “Friends”. Watching Chandler’s adoration for Monica will be unbearable. But the ice cream and large handkerchief right next to you will help. And you will fall asleep to the sounds of Joey being ridiculous as he tries to introduce his new pet to everyone.

Rosie will soon leave because she has to. You will insist that she does even though what really want to do is hold her because you need someone to hold. You will tell her that you’re fine even though you’re not. She will understand your need to be alone. Then it will really hit you all at once like a missile finding its target and exploding, engulfing everything around it.

It’s hard to spend that night alone. The confusion is overwhelming. It’s hard to be alone when the pain kicks in. And every single day after that will feel like a struggle. You will hate how long the days will be. You will hate life. Sleep will become into your refuge. The thought of waking up in the morning will frighten you. You will keep remembering everything all over again; those red flags that you refused to pay any attention to, putting together all those tiny details you once ignored and answering those questions that you kept asking yourself but had decided to bury. The very moment you open your eyes it will all come rushing back; that pain mingled with a tremendous need to vomit. It will sweep in like a strong tide flooding your insides. The bile will rise up, burn your throat and choke you as it drowns you.

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