Trappings
The trappings we drag, for the overnight stay in the damp, dark, cold to the touch; parts of the hell that we personally designed just for moments like these; when the world feels too small for how much we don’t feel.
The trappings we drag, for the overnight stay in the damp, dark, cold to the touch; parts of the hell that we personally designed just for moments like these; when the world feels too small for how much we don’t feel.
If my skin were translucent.. you would see the demons, that chisel away at my heart, The monsters that tear at my mind, day in day out day in day out morning night morning night. You think I am strong because I am charismatic and because you have seen me fight. I am strong because … More No Room For.
In the aftermath of the tippled boxes come undone; ribbons untied, and words scraped from corners of a pale skinned mind, unrefined; do I say I am sorry? When I was just a girl, in dresses printed in sunshine and sewn together with trust, I learned that words mean very little. Unless, they cause an … More Boxes Undone
There are moments when we feel loss, in a way that ravages the outskirts of even the boundaries that we have set for ourselves. In the next breath, we can swim through love, as though it were a kind of sickness, that tears through the lungs and leaves you choking on its depths. I have … More Souvenirs of Yesterday
I have the backbone for war, for blood soaked skin, hair soaked in red victory. Eyes bright green, manic with the dance of songs written before my time. My stomach is knotted at the thought of what lies ahead. So many broken people, who will effectively have to lay their swords down and trust me. … More Incoming, Oh YES!
Forget me knot, the tangled mess that interrupts. The silence that pushes back. The wordless forgiveness in the slack. The humanity in the tunnel vision. The peace in the quietness in the monotony of level headed dispassion. I forgot how to love, today. Was more of triggered mental delay; a test in compassion. On how … More Empty
I have always mocked my brothers for their mushy well put together strings of loving almost song like things they say to their wives and girlfriends while in my company. On some occasions I will pretend to need to wind down a window to throw up. They use affectionate names, and when in each others … More How Not to Write a Love Poem
Once a year at work we do what we call 360’s. Everyone gets a form, with a list of work related and attitude related attributes, and then you rate other people from 1 to 5. 1, of course is dismal, and 5 is most excellent. Things like, ‘Is this person a team player?’ and ‘Does … More Bad Day at the Office
Some days, I spend the whole day feeling like as I walk, as I move, I leave behind a slight heat signature. A trace. Evidence that I was there. Like my mind is bleeding. Like my dreams and the bad things in them have found a way to come out. I miss time. Time misses … More Get it Right
So, I am sitting at a pub type place with my brother and his wife a few weeks ago, and we get to talking about my drunken days. Drinking was a problem for me long before drugs were. I attended my first AA meeting before my 21st birthday – under duress, but still. He recounted … More A Brother’s Version
writing as a way of life
My ramblings poems and musings enjoy or not no pressure
The varied thoughts of a millennial modern linguist.
Talking about real things
Poetry and Poems
All that is me!
CRIME WRITER
Fabulously Refined/Wildy Inappropriate
I Kill My Own Spiders
character limited descriptions kind of give me anxiety
A few new poems every week. Haikus on Sundays.