Writing is my Therapy..

Please drop by on my Instagram page for more of my work.


I have my wordpress blog still under progress but I can’t stop writing and I mostly upload my work in writing and Photography on Instagram..

Hope you guys have an amazing day.

Reine xo


Order In Chaos

While we forever can sit and wonder if we are the only life in this Universe there are thousands and millions of emotions, feelings, thoughts, smiles, tears, worries, concerns, prayers, fights, suicides, deaths and births happening every single second on this planet that seems to be by far the only one to have intelligent life.

I, however want to know if we are really the intelligent life here? Are we even mentally illumined enough to know if we are living on our terms, really, or are we being governed, mentally, manipulated by a higher authority, someone, something out there beyond our comprehension but right under these skies and over this land that controls us. A power that feeds off of our energies and chaos.

I did not understand how there is unequal distribution of knowledge, because eventually it is the total amount of knowledge in you that measures your rank in society but some have access to it, some have enough time to acquire knowledge, some have the will, some have the skill and some have everything but no resources. As if there is some power above us that decides to keep it this way so that there is unequal distribution of knowledge, there are divisions among people. The Geniuses, The Smart, The Rich, The Poor etc.

In all of this chaos is the balance that has been maintained. It saves us from worrying too much about what is beyond us for it keeps us occupied with the chaos in and around us. It is like a song, a perfect symphony made of highs and lows, lulling us into trance so that we do not wake up to question.

A perfect symphony. Do you hear it too or is it just me?



Love isn’t always roses and lilies,
It’s mostly Lotuses growing in the dirtiest muddiest ugliest ponds and lakes,
In dingy rooms, empty corridors,
Broken walls, shattered mirrors,
Rotting graves, silent screams and screaming silences, laughing lips and drowning eyes, smeared lipsticks, bruised cheeks, blue black patterns on ribs and thighs.. Love grows even where you can see no hope of it’s survival,
In bed of lies, betraying words, grand schemes of horrific pain, cold murder of a lamb heart.. Because Love is not a blessing.. It’s a curse you somehow wish you deserved,
A pain you crave to receive and bear,
A torture you pray and beg for,
Until your soul in entrapped making you a sucker for more and an addict to its sugar coated Paranoia.


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​To feel nothing.. 

One fine morning it was and I felt nothing,

like all the dew had evaporated,

slowly off my eyes!

The warmth had given up to the chill of my nerves,

I woke up with freezing hands and purple blue nails,

twitching toes and cold tears soaking my pillow!
And all those dreams and fantasies,

I left behind wrapped in my blanket,

where I feel they are supposed to be,

carrying them around has only made me tired,

weary of carrying them in my already torn heart,

from where droplets and snippets of my dreams and fantasies are dropping out,

poisoning my veins,

turning me warm for a few days,

and now when almost all of it has leaked into my bloodstream it has started mixing my reality into my dreams,

causing the chaos in my head while I am asleep..

I am better off alone,

devoid of this,

but how strong will I need to be,

to cut open my veins,

let the blood, dreams and poison leave my body!! 
-reine f

You Poor Soul

You, my love,

Have seen too much since you were the size of a coin,

Have borne too much noise that drowned your chime,

Boy, you have seen too much senseless crime,

You’re surrounded by too many senseless people,

They will make you darker and feeble.


You, my strawberry sweetheart, have lost all faith,

In humanity and love,

Have closed all gates,

For things from here and above,

I feel sorry for you,

That you can never feel the beauty of pure joy anymore,

That you won’t know the ecstasy of loving another like I do,

That you won’t be feeling the surging joy of seeing the smile you can spread.

I feel sorry and pained to see something as beautiful as your heart,

Will not know the profound happiness of trusting blindly,

The deep sorrows of betrayals have turned you cold to the warm hugs of my arms.


You, my poor little soul,

I feel sorry for you,

That you lost a love like mine,

That you’ll never know what you are capable of inside,

That you will never see the concept of twin flames,

And burn with the glow of LOVE.


You, my poor little soul,

I feel sorry,

That now I let you go,

Because I’ve finally realized,

That you won’t cross the bridge for me,

You, broken baby are way more damaged than I could ever be.







It should remember,

The salty sweet fluid I floated in when in the cocoon inside my mother,

The bland nutrition of her milk,

The potion that grew me to strength,

That eased down my throat like silk.


It should remember the first time it felt the chill of an icecream,

The heat of a chilly, the burn of hot tea,

The sour of tamarind from grandma’s garden,

The tangy apple the sleazy uncle got for me when I was 9,

The sweetness of the candy the neighbor slipped into my pocket while his hands slipped deeper then the pocket.


It should remember the taste of savory meat aunt cooked for a family lunch,

The velvet of the cheese cake on my 16th birthday,

The flavor of my first strawberry lipstick,

The effervescence of the soda in my first 60 ml of whiskey.


But what it does remember instead?

It remembers the taste of remorse that seeped through her womb,

The burn in my throat when I suckled the milk out of a regretful woman,

The chill of my first sexual assault dancing on my lips along with the icecream after school,

The heat of the slap for being blamed of stealing tamarind from grandmas garden, I was just 5,

It remembers the taste of the cigarette in the air I gasped for as the uncle muffed my mouth with the apple,

The sour taste the neighbor left in my mind forever in the name of candy.


Above all it remember the taste of passion I kissed out from my lovers tongue,

The sweetness of those words that seeped into my soul through his words,

Words that casted magical zing into the strawberry words that came whispering through the strawberry flavored lipstick that smashed against his kisses,

It remembers the taste of lust when it traced every inch of his skin devouring every bit of flesh on his skeleton,

The choking pungency of his anger, the heat of his love and burn of him walking away,

The taste of blood curdling in my mouth each time I think of unforgotten memories,

The taste of pain each night when I curl into a ball holding myself tasting fear, sadness n turmoil.


My tongue has tasted beyond what I should have tasted.

What bout yours?


  • Reine Furtado



zombie-wallpaper-1Nightmares waking me up

and I am screaming drenched in tears..

But when I wake up my cheeks are dry and I smile I do the regular brush my teeth and grab a coffee and ponder on my nightmares for a while.

I count them in my sleep
1, 2, 3, 4…..200, 234….
they scream in my dream
I try talking to the walls
because there is where they hide
I try to kill them of brain freeze with freezing ice cream.
They have faces

Emotions…dey are Emotions
Love Hunger Fear Anger Jealousy Lust
Normally m a human
I govern dem
But they’ve come alive in me from the very dust.When I am angry,
my eyes shine red in the mirror
They drug me like my personalized pharma
They dance on my head
They leap in my heart
and they say there is nothing called Karma.And in the night
I hug them and they hug me back
And I close my eyes
And I make sure to count all of them till I crack.
Counting sheep is for sweetdreams
I have nightmares to drown
Demons of my OWN.


                                                                                          –REINE FURTADO

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