The night our worlds collided, You were the becoming of me, and I, yours.

You wrapped yourself around me in a way, impeding any inch of me to slip through your fingers.

I remember mapping your skin and reaching your lips then gasping, breathing heavily into you, on you, and with you, soaking the entirety of your caramel skin and bare soul.

As I lay beside you, I felt strangely empty then all too fulfilled as if I were overflowing with your existence and mine.

Darling, you were both, challenging and comforting, you subtly drew me within you, later unbuttoned the intimate corners of my mind, and thoroughly savored every bit of me. The night our worlds collided, you were the becoming of me, and I, yours.

-a.ch// the night we happened


I love a little too much, with an embarrassing passion.

It silently creeps into my chest, and spreads its branches, ropes itself around me until every fiber of my being is screaming “I love you” and “I want you”. It generously sits on the outline of my lips where his lips should’ve been, aching, longing to confess “I can’t stop thinking of you”. It weighs on my shoulders where his sleepyhead and the annoying sound of his snores should’ve been.

These feelings burn through me, settle when nearly everything’s turned to ashes. Then, I no longer want them.

-a.ch// inspired by a poet.


When I look at you, I see the sky, unpredictable & beautiful.
When I look at you, I see the sunset down by the dock, surreal & warm.
When I look at you, I’m reminded of the hundred dozen strangers on the train, unaware, bemused, & curious.
When I look at you, I’m reminded of the vintage love-poems of the early 60s & 70s, authentic & aesthetic.
When I look at you, I’m reminded of the incessant knock-knock jokes you crack in the middle of the night, silly & cutesy.
When I look at you, I’m fueled with passion to love you, completely & unconditionally.
When I look at you, I see a butterfly perched on a flower, playful & beguiling.
Darling, every time I look at you, I see my future, my life, happy & eternal.

-a.ch// random midnight endearments

Part of a love song

Baby, you & I under the lilac sky. With your head laid on my thigh, it’s a different kind of high. Every inch of you is art, you’re a piece of my heart. I won’t let you come in the way of harm, I’ll keep you tucked right here in my arms.

Baby, I didn’t believe in magic yet I wished upon a shooting star and here you are. I didn’t know what I’d missed up until the moment we kissed. Guess, I got lucky since I found the love of my life, now, I can’t wait to be your wife. Baby, you & I under the lilac sky.

-a.ch// part of a love song


The gentle moonlight slid on her porcelain skin, it draped itself around her, much like a silky cocoon and poured itself in the cracks and crevices of her anatomy. The wonder dancing beneath the night sky was now, glaring, as a true moon child.

-a.ch// romantic about the moon

Fragments (3)

“I don’t like you but I love you”
“Umm why?”
“Well, because I don’t like who I am with you. I’m..different around you. I fear being vulnerable but with you, I just don’t. I’m weak. You know, If you ever break my heart, I’ll spend years mending it, and then bring it back to you to destroy it, all over again.
You’re like the movies I watch, on purpose to cry because otherwise, I don’t allow myself that liberty.
You’re like those words rolling on the tip of my tongue when I’m overwhelmed but, I end up swallowing them instead.
You’re the cigarette I smoke immediately after a breakdown.
You’re the incomplete ending of books that I wish didn’t end.
Do you understand? I don’t like you because you encourage me to reveal versions of myself that I don’t bother acknowledging. But, this is also why I love you. Twisted, isn’t it?

~a.ch// fragments from a conversation


I’ve dreamt this dream a thousand times. Where I’m laid up against you, brushing your skin with the tip of my fingers and gently planting kisses along the way. The sweet taste of your lips, the color of your eyes, the warmth of your body, are etched on my skin and my heart. I remember little details about you like my own, as if your being is intertwined with mine. It’s hard to say if it’s true or just that I’ve dreamt this dream a thousand times.

~a.ch// things I should’ve told you

Fragments (2)

he asked me, “ what does home mean to you?” I said, “home is where I can fully feel my overflowing emotions. where there’s no need to dance along a facade and i can truly unwind. home is my favourite orange sweater. home is a feeling of being wrapped around loving arms or sinking into nothingness. home is like the deep refreshing, give you a few disoriented moments after you wake up kind of sleep. home is like the kid on the train with hazel green eyes i make faces at. home is a wagging tail and overjoyed jumps at the sight of me. home is comfort. home is love and warmth. and then I finally told him, silly, home is you and i.”

~a.ch// fragments from a conversation


At times I find myself tangled in the web of my thoughts. Often, I think about what all the broken friendships, pain, trauma, relationships and almost relationships have done to me. I fear they’ve desensitized me, numbed me to the core but then there are days when I feel everything, every emotion deeply and all at once. It’s a cycle, followed one after the other. Every cycle makes it all the more difficult to make true sense of everything. It’s like swimming to the bottom of the deep blue sea, you go in voluntarily. Initially the silence is comforting as is the changing color of the sea until, the silence becomes deafening and the color begins to fade and you run out of breath so you frantically throw your hands towards the little ray of light. You hope that someone will pull you out and save you but you begin to choke and the realization finally hits you that you came too far because of something you loved or at least you thought you did.

~a.ch// fragments of my thoughts

What If

What if i told you
I’m a prisoner to the voices in my head ,
A stolen kiss under the mistletoe,
quick and embracing
A consequence of the darkness floating inside of me,
consuming and terrifying
A madman set free, lost and scarred
Would you still stroke my hair, kiss my face and watch me fall asleep,
What if i told you?