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Parched Lips

My lips have become

A parched land

From the drought

Of not saying your name

For so long,

Even when my tongue

Brushes over the cracked surface

I feel a familiar ache

To just return to the taste of you

Upon my lips,

But then I remember,

No matter the yearning for you to be the one,

There were empty kisses you left behind,

A trail my lips have tried to erase,

But, parches over instead,

Leaving croaks of syllables in the air.


© Soshinie Singh

Author of the Phoenix Letters and the Mist Calling

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I have had my heart broken. Heck, I have most likely broken my own heart. And maybe, I’m at the brink of doing that again. And I thought I knew what endurance was, until now. Nothing beats the present circumstances, not even heartbreak. My endurance is being tested at the ultimate level, being away from all things familiar, and the safety of comfort zones. Living in a place I am not sure I can ever truly call home. I am left alone, to feel invisible because I chose to step out of my mind and voice the things that cause me to self-destruct. Yet, it feels like I should’ve stayed quiet and turned my gears to suit the mechanics at the behest of everyone, except myself. My endurance is confronted with the lonely feeling of having no one to fall onto, to tell me “it’ll work out”. It’s just me trying to tell myself, trying to tell my body that “it’ll be okay, you just need to focus on what you’re here for.” But, that’s not always comforting. And the only outstretched arms I see, are the ones limping at my sides, yearning for a reprieve. So my eyes droop low, tired from crying, rendering my blood to sweat acid, burning away at my organs. I guess that’s just what’s called “being hard on myself,” as I try to see past my vision onto everyone’s point of view. Hoping I’ll be strong enough to see through the fog when all these voices surround me, yet none addresses me. I thought I knew what endurance was, but now, I truly know what it means, because there is no escape in sight for me. And my organs bleed, as the blade stabs through endlessly.


© Soshinie Singh

Author of the Phoenix Letters and the Mist Calling

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Once Bitten, Twice Shy

It is said,
Once bitten, twice shy
And I couldn’t agree more with this,
More than anything
I wanted to pull the curtain, and
Allow the light to enter,
I wanted to be the one
To make a difference in your life,
The one that could be life-changing
But, not in the way
Things worked out,
Leaving me to a predicament
That would burn like a wildfire,
So, every time I have the urge
To be the saving grace again
My hand tingles from the burn
That it suffered ever so long ago,
Placing a hesitant hip in every step I take.


© Soshinie Singh

Author of the Phoenix Letters and the Mist Calling




Photo Credit: Jon Bright, Jr.

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The Canopy

‘West Coast Canopy’ by Randy Hayashi (sourced from Pinterest)

Silently in the night

The canopy rocks



Uprooted from the limbs.

She remembered

She once held a canopy

Like a crystal ball she trusted



And tranquil.

But, then the canopy snapped

Leaving behind a deafening silence

In the mind’s storm.

© Soshinie Singh

Author of the Phoenix Letters and the Mist Calling