Kadupul

You’re not a puzzle
no need to be pulled
– apart
then have your pieces
misplaced.

You’re a Kadupul
growing awkward and unknown
with a harsh exterior
in varying terrains

They can hold their rain
no invitation to your parade
not while you’re a –
Midnight Mircale
– blooming sans light
the rare, precious,
delicate, most desired
within all these vast lands

what they cannot ruin with their hands.

– Lita

(A Kadupul is the most precious, beautiful flower on this earth. What makes it priceless is that it blooms at night and it wilts before dawn.

Simply,
We are not the sum of what people see in us during the light, but rather what grows within us in our darkest hours and those who are deserving of us will get to see us in our greatest bloom.)

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Dissipate

A bite of sound
With words strung
To form statements
– I cannot.
Balancing perfection
with bravery and inception
Becoming daily torments

Brilliance interlaced
With doubts and fears
seconds from formation
It dies in own creation.

– Lita

Unsullied

Back in the market
A week ago – not too long ago.
I bought a soap
Placed it with the other things in the packet.

Last night,
With the soap that costed less than a pound.
I used all my might
After the exhausting day
Sans light nor sound
A battle in the shower
To stand and not lay
Took all my remaining power

On the water came
And the droplets ran crazed
Like soldiers in a classified raid.

The soap sans a name,
Came into hand
And suddenly I found myself paralyzed
– less than a pound

But here it smelled like
my long passed childhood –
I could see myself at my granny’s place
In the bathtub, no older than 5

Lita


I picked a soap at the market the other day. I suppose most of the time when I’m shopping here, I try to buy things that remind me of home. An orange juice here or lavender scented spray – anything to keep the homesickness at bay.

[c] Misunderstanding

Confession: Very in love with my best friend

Misunderstanding 

a little ping on my phone
feels like an electric zing,
there your name sits on
top of my notification bar.

I scramble to find a clean shirt
I ponder over my peach fuzz
wonder it makes me looks like a man
the type you would like to encircle your waist.
staring at my reflection
what don’t I have? – I ask myself

my boy muscles
ride their way over to your place
don’t even have to knock
your voice pulls me in
you’re hacking away at that keyboard again.

when you turn to look at me
I swear the world momentarily pauses
words keep swimming to the tip of my tongue
yet are paralysed with fear at the thought
of jumping into the conversation.

upon closer inspection,
your face is littered with tears
softly you tell me that she hurt you
– again.
what don’t I have – you ask yourself.

you embrace me
I say I love you
I embrace you
You say thank you.

For Tristian

– Lita

(Confessions is an ongoing series centered around the basic human experience. The everyday things we think about and feel but don’t share due to society or fear of being ostracized from our inner circles.

Most confessions are taken off a thread on Reddit – If you happen to stumble upon your own confession and wish for me to take it down, please let me know.)

(Photo)

[c] Sickeningly Sweet

Confession: I bought Girl Scout cookies, and then threw most of them away.

Sickeningly Sweet

street after my commute
eyes latch onto me
turn the block
my thoughts turn mute
racing against the clock
and they’re gaining on me.

quick fluttering steps
under flickering lights
futile; they’ve got me
– cornered.

“Would you like to buy our cookies?”

– Lita

(Confessions is an ongoing series centered around the basic human experience. The everyday things we think about and feel but don’t share due to society or fear of being ostracized from our inner circles.

Most confessions are taken off a thread on Reddit – If you happen to stumble upon your own confession and wish for me to take it down, please let me know.)

(Photo)