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Tattoo of Us

I looked into the mirror,

And began to see the needle

Commence its work,

Of patching my holes,

And etching my dreams

For you,

For us,

Onto my skin,

To be worn like invisible tattoos

That only my skin can feel

Cradling me everywhere I go,

With the artistry lullaby,

You soothe my skin into sleeping with peace,

And when I looked up,

Straight into my eyes,

I see you smiling there,

With a secret to hold me today,

As I walk away towards another day.

© Soshinie Singh

Author of The Phoenix Letters and The Mist Calling

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What would you see?

I wonder what you would see

If you look me in the eyes…

Would you see how hallow I feel?

Empty, yearning for a fill

Would you see how cracked

with bruises and scars

I am,

Trying to reach for the sky,

But unable to grasp the nearest branch,

Can you tell how scared I am,

to be numb?

Unable to connect the blinking dots even to myself.

I wonder what you would see…

If you look me in the eyes,

And stare into this petrifying soul,

Waiting to succumb to the binding light.

© Soshinie Singh

Author of The Phoenix Letters and The Mist Calling

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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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Everyday, we are given the opportunity to bloom with every gifted breath that we take. We get to change ourselves. We get to change the things that we do not like and that is within our control.

Our bodies become as sacred as a plant. Our limbs, the leaves often get snagged off in the process. Sometimes being ripped apart from bites delivered by those close. But, when our old decays, and transformation begins, we wither like the petals, wilting with such drooping grace to allow something new to bait the world.

Everyday, we are gifted with the opportunity to turn our lives around. Do not waste each breath on trivialities and do not let each tatter and tear to render you lifeless.

Our bloom is the sun for our cries.

Written by: Soshinie Singh

Author of The Phoenix Letters and The Mist Calling

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Sometimes The Darkness Is Our Lantern


Life experiences encompass of multitudes of trial and error. In this world of growth, we become a speckle, a drop of water which falls from the tap. Sometimes this drop goes straight into the dark tunnel and through to the other side. Or, sometimes, we are that drop which when it reaches to land, deviates away. There are two things that can happen. The drop which takes the path of going through the dark tunnel actually uses this darkness as its lantern. It faces its darkness, both internally and externally and is ready to face the light (at the end of the tunnel) with its own light. But this may not always be the case. This drop may get stuck in the tunnel, and as a consequence may allow the darkness to overwhelm it. What can this do? This can cause the drop to become bitter. In the other scenario of where the drop deviates from the tunnel, it is actually deviating from its darkness, going with the flow. It allows itself to be swept along the current, facing life without actually facing its wrongs. Is this healthy? Of course, it is not. But, it is reality for many to choose the path of ignoring their darkness and refusing change.

Sometimes the darkness is our lantern. But it all depends on how brightly we choose to light this lantern if we choose to light it at all.

Written by: Soshinie Singh