Tuesday, March 28, 2017

The Clearing in My Mind

It's very green above the hustle of The Valley, and I walk further up, up, up. I remember your description. Tall trees like spires. But then, forests have always been my church. Sunlight comes as blessings, dappled but finding its way to me, through the thick and thin. I live in the cadence of your words. Moss, and grass, and mud, and I trek up, up, up. To a clearing for coffee with a book. Peace, and greenliness, and a view. It's amusing the place I most frequently daydream of is one I've never been.

Thursday, March 9, 2017


The feeling burned as it rose
Rushed and overcame them

Leaning, she stretched an arm out
Yearning, he did the same

They tossed violently in the night
Alone, in their respective beds.

Tuesday, May 31, 2016

On Love

Being in love

Is like

Letting a bunch of 3 year olds play with or near an electric fence
Letting a thief into your country's Fort Knox
Letting a serial killer into the room that your heart box is kept

Friday, April 1, 2016


I have so much love
For the ones beautiful without trying
Passion that fills up the room
Enthusiasm lighting the corners of eyes
Wrinkles that don't apologise
Which are really, really old smile lines
Pressed in place by a lifetime of laughter
Despite the thorns
Neglecting to mention the hard times
Faces that talk without speaking
Eyes whispering secrets
Hands with stories to tell
Old scars like trophies
And the way hair falls over eyes
Gets tucked behind ears
Is never admired like before

Saturday, March 26, 2016


Come back
From wherever you are
Wipe the troubles from your brow
The ones that hide behind your eyes
And lose them in the spaces between my ribs
The love you seek
Waits patiently in my belly 
In the crook of my neck
Sits the salt you need to soldier on 
Uncertainty and bitterness
These are things I can swallow
And replace them with warmth and kindness
Pulled from my blood
The hollows of my bones
My marrow
Because everything 
All of me
If it's not for you
Then what's the point

Friday, March 25, 2016

Long Distance

And I awoke in the night to find a golden thread reeling from my heart, thin and nimble as silk, but strong like steel, moving silently with slippery slips, running across everything, through the seas and back across, out over land, beneath the eaves and over skyscrapers to where he was, in his bed, attaching itself to the place he had a picture of me, within his heart. 

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Cosmic Fantasy

We go through life in search of our people
Because, we feel, that's where the magic happens
We try, with our minds so sharp,
To backward engineer the fabric of the cosmos
To see the signs (even if only in hindsight)
To believe a higher power looks out for us
So we can say that the universe is conspiring to give us what we want
That we have been led to this point. To this moment. That we're exactly where we're suppose to be.

We go through life in search of our people
Because, we feel, this will bring us comfort
Amidst uncertainty and disruption
Even if it is we, ourselves, trying to disrupt
And yet, still be comfortable
Gradually getting comfortable with discomfort.

We go through life in search of our people
Not realising that within the greatest risk,
The highest discomfort,
Our true reward lies.

We go through life in search of our people,
Even though the universe is not made of them
And still we are all a part of the same tribe in the end.

Friday, February 19, 2016

This view

I want to live everywhere
See everything
Meet everyone
I have been staring at these trees too long

Thursday, February 11, 2016


Some day
I will keep a book
And write in it
All the things you never told me

And it will have just one page

Tuesday, October 20, 2015


I may have amnesia for everything. But there are things I'll never forget, like the way you speak, the feel of your palm, the things you've told me and that expression you get when you're about to call me crazy again. And these things I'll hold inside, crushing down on them, burying them beneath the weigh of my beating heart, heavy from so much running. I'll hold these memories down forever. Until they crystalise and I am left with just a sparkle in my eye, the diamond of that memory, so glorious as the shining moment of its birth. Or maybe just a tear.