About piaspurpose

I write in rough drafts. I live a vivid life in my inner self conveyed in imaginative rants and adventurous narratives. I write like an onion that was meant to be peeled off from its layered stories to find its core point. Know that I love what I hate and hate what I love. I am the poetry in prose.

Times in the Ring

I’m back to ground, dust as I am

Lost myself in a wretched maze

Hear all the bass

Paced all I could

Footsteps like a thief

Can’t hear the stomp

I’ve listened to all my tapes

Feels like an infinite loop

Unsure of myself

Wondering who’s in the mirror

Yelling at her – show me how you fight

Tell em!

Hold me down!

“For what? You’re on the floor!”

Yelling back – show me how you lived!

Crowd goes wild

Mirror stares back

All four corners of the room surrounding her

Sirens like a track

Fingers waved around

Disenchanted beast

Sweaty hair in a messy ponytail

Cry as it may

Be as you are

Show em,

Go on,

Show

The

Ashes

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Changing Shapes

For the longest time, my favorite shape was a circle. I liked its repetition and how it symbolizes forever. Infinity.

Two years ago, I packed my bags and before I left the airport, my elder siblings hugged me tight and said goodbye. That broke my love for circles. For mornings, I’d search for familiarity in faces. A reference or a joke – I talked about beginnings, they talked about the weather. I talked about coffee sessions and they talked about drinking sessions.

From days turned to months and months turned into seasons. Two winters later and a semi version of Spring later, I saw a face at a train station. She wore a gigantic bag pack and held a cup of coffee. I hugged her tight and said hello!

We took a photo together with the name of the train station above our heads to remember this moment we meet again.

These circles were cut in the middle and flattened out as straight lines, years have changed us. Broken us apart and pieces are still finding it’s way back.

From airports to phone calls to train rides, these lines have kept us together. Perhaps cut circles weren’t damaged goods but new pathways to meet and to move forward.

I like these lines.