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.
I wrapped her, in red ribbon. I breathed against her skin, and heard her thoughts crashing against the inside of my skull, like bones clicking when stretched too far. She ached. Though I didn’t know why. Nor could I ask. Not yet. Her eyes changed colour with each mechanical snap of the lens. A flash … More She Bled Red Wine
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 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
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
Humidity clung to her skin, warm and sticky. Her clammy hands in her lap, knotted with anxiety. Thin strands of hair stuck to her brow. Like cracks in her face. Fine wounds in an otherwise perfect porcelain complexion. Why are you so afraid? She mouthed quietly to herself, wiping the sweat from her forehead with … More Rejection
Close the door, please. Open the window please. Stand, in the shadow of the sun. Smile. Make eye contact with the devil’s souls. The ones that leave trails. Fingerprints. Scents. Dance. Mingle. Laugh. Breathe. Mouth the words to myself: Stay calm. Have a drink. Sink; into the temporary release that comes from the gift of … More Only Joking
When the sound of sirens become as real as the yellowing bruises that stained your skin like cigarettes. When I begged you to stay; Please don’t go. But you left yesterday. And again today. Your time here is as unpredictable as the discolouration on the face of a battered woman. I missed you before, then. … More You Left Me Here.
I ache, from carrying the burden of your collected pain. Pain that you gather as you fall down in the door ways of home after home. I could decorate willow trees, with trinkets of sorrow, all yours, for miles. Sadness in every colour. But I sew it all together, instead, and remind you of the … More Words Sewn Together
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
A home for the stories and poems that got away.
I Kill My Own Spiders
character limited descriptions kind of give me anxiety
A few new poems every week. Haikus on Sundays.
Mocking Bird Down 