The spring has come
and the sun stays this time
and the trees are racing
to give birth to new lives
and the flowers they blossom
and the petals greet children
that play with dogs in the park
and it used to be dark
and cold and sad
but now look around
even the earth teaches a lesson
that when one story ends
another one soon begins

The spring has come
and it took me some time
but my leaves are popping
my flowers blooming
and I lived
and survived
and I welcome this season
with the biggest smile I’ve owned
and with love that resides
within me all this time

AB – 26.3.17



I am also fluent in silence.

But I am so angry over the fact that you started this all. I only admired you, for the qualities in you that I wanted to have. But you brought romance to our story. You put this idea in me, that love is not about age or how we look, that it’s more about connecting our differences despite our similarities. You provoked me to feel all this, and you left. You left seeing the smoke from the fire you started. And you came back watching the flame because for you, it’s pretty and miraculous. Then you encouraged me to stay ablaze, only to leave again because you don’t want to deal with this mess.

You created this all but you left. I was so close to ask you to stay but in your silence I found my answer.

I used to send you all the nice wishes and prayers but now, I realise you don’t deserve another word. I’m done. You can go about the way you want to but if one day you came back and no longer found me here, try to remember that I, too, know how to leave.

Goodbye, old friend.

Ode to the Fucked Ups

To those who feel like everyone around

always shatters them down to pieces

they forgot they were once

a beautiful single entity,

To those who always knitted their hearts out

hoping they could warm up something cold

only to find the people they love

keep on using it as a door mat,

To those who keep growing flowers in their garden

hoping the roses will also blossom

in the hearts of their loved ones,

only to find they keep on using it

as their battle field,

To those who seek comfort

at the bottom of funny bottles,

only to find temporary shelters

at times they don’t even remember

who they are,

To those who need to transform themselves

to be someone else

so that they could stop seeing disappointment

as something as normal as running away,


Thank you,

for holding on to the tiny pieces

Thank you,

for offering your warmth,

Thank you,

for blooming your flowers,

and for being who you are

And I hope soon you’ll see

how rocky surface of the moon

is still pretty.


AB – 28.12.16

36 Full Moons

For those who have witnessed 36 full moons

and their name still cuts your tongue

even before you could say it out loud,

For those who’ve collected

36 full moons of stacks of pictures

not all of them were pretty,

36 full moons of history

that you so wish you could just erase

And for those who told yourself to be okay

to just forget

and move on

and that they never existed

and you never saw that crescent

that their eyes shaped when they smile,



Let me tell you something,

It’s okay you’re not okay.

You don’t need to swallow all those words

you never got to deliver

You don’t need to carry all those apologies

that seem to form a fountain

at the corners of your eyes,

because you don’t need to apologise

for loving too much you couldn’t do it properly

You don’t need to be ashamed

of feeling rejected, or left behind,

and feeling so in love it made you feel stupid,

because your love made you rich


Your heartbreak turned you into a poet

who gave birth to a million dazzling words

you never thought you’d use to describe a soul,

and now you can direct all those words

to your own beautiful soul.



Try to see another full moon,

maybe by then you’ll see

how the moon needs just a cycle

to be full again.


AB – 21.12.16


It’s so cold today. Too cold I don’t dare to go out at all. I can already imagine how the wind could leave prints on my skin, and make every inch of my body long for some place warm. Perhaps a comfortable corner with a cup of hot tea on one hand and an old book on the other. Or just my bed, with all the blankets I put underneath the sheet to trick myself into thinking it’s warm enough for one person alone.

But you don’t understand. On a day like this I wish I could have other things to do. 24 hours a day seem too much, I can’t face myself anymore. I’ve tried looking up for things I could do to make time go faster, but unfortunately, I got trapped in the maze of mind I tried so hard to escape. Is it forever? Can I ever escape from love? Should I ever?

As I type this down I feel my heart heating up, as if the volcano within me is going to erupt anytime soon. I’m so full of emotions that I start to shiver, feeling the coldness even more. I used to sing but now the melody has left me. I used to write but my words flew away like they’re scared of me. How could people describe love as something so magical, something so beautiful that could make all the gardens filled with roses, with all their petals blossomed? I can only feel the cold, as I swim through the depth of the ocean with no end, my tears blend with salt water, hoping that one day, my tired feet could finally land on somewhere warm.

I can only complain, but the cold still won’t go away. How does it feel, knowing you’re safe, warm and alive in someone’s heart?

AB – 6.12.16


Hey dear friends,


I am so so so happy to announce that I have published a compilation of poetry book called Dancing Alone. This book is about a full cycle of love, how it comes, how it stays, how it goes. You can see the complete details and get a copy of the book here. (Use coupon code AUG2016 for a 25% discount. Promo ends on Aug 24).

Again I’m so glad this happens. I would say this could happen pretty much because of your encouragement and nice words. Thank you so much and I hope you’ll enjoy the book as much as I did writing that!


With lots of love and big big smile,


Dancing Alone

The music is on

But the hall is empty

And the stage is too big

For me alone

I glance at the door

Secretly hoping you’ll come back

And join me in my motions

For the dance I remember was the one with you

Yet the door seems rusty

And still there’s no signs of you

The music is on

So I’m dancing alone

My tears no longer drop 

My fake smile now seems natural

I’ve been rehearsing this for too long

I’m prepared for dancing alone 
AB – 19.8.16


Outside, raindrops plopping wild

The wind dances slowly,

The kind of dance you wish you wouldn’t have to see

The street is empty,

Like Sunday morning on early February

And the wet street slowly turns to seem romantic

Under the dim city lights

And the nothingness they highlight


Outside, they celebrate

The rain and the wind marry and replicate

Yet inside these concrete walls,

A question is raised

Nothing can satisfy this confused mastermind

Baffled by the simplicity

Of the raindrops and the wind and the dim city lights

If only they could give me an answer.
AB – 9.8.16 

Why did you have to leave?