So many words,
fuelled by everything,
filled with nothing.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 31 January 2021


Apparently, I died yesterday, but my
last breath was somewhere between March and April
– it just took you another 3 months to decide
that you are the vastness of space
and I am the lungs that are empty without you

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 12 June, 2017


He said those words
– I can’t –
and my heart fell out of its pocket
like there was a hole in my
chest and
that very last stitch
heard him speak.
Our mobius strip
lay suddenly flattened
– I on one side and he on the reverse –
like destiny and distance
were the same bridge
too destroyed to gap.

Now I want life to end
as I lean down to hold
what’s left in my lungs,
my final breath leaving as
I fall beyond the edge
by some miracle
this leap of faith will save me,
felled atop arms that wait beneath
the only strip remaining
is the one in which
we remove each other’s clothing.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 11 April, 2017


Empty Box

An empty box is filled with possibility, and nothing less.

© Tamara Natividad | pisceanesque.com | Written 2nd June, 2012