The rules of modern sainthood direct as follows
Otherness is a trait of the Holy
And fairytales are nightmares
And I confess, I would gladly swap my heroes for guardians,
But you didn't do a good job as either.
It has come to the point where
God must come onto the earth through your form
As you always play the martyr.
Years later I end up
Knight on a journey,
having no purpose or direction
other than the list of sins to repent for.
So I give away each pentacle
For turning valleys into mountain rages
And I give away each dove
For deepening the seas
And I part with all my wands
For straying from my path
And I fall on my own sword
For looking at the sun
One truth you have told me
And to this I didn't listen
One lie I have told myself
Magic isn't real
Because everything ends well in stories
So I rose you up and still kept falling
Onto the desert where I share tales with visions left behind
Mar 2
Mar 2, 2026 at 12:25 PM UTC
I close my eyes, and I am a tree;
I close my eyes and I ride, pedaling, arms stretched out like a bird in flight, like dandelions towards the sun.
Above me, leaves rustle, stars chime, chorusing with the hum of high-voltage lines.
The world is blue like Magritte's September.
I close my eyes, and time flows like a stream, emerging from an ancient riverbed.
Perhaps that's why my pace, as I move through the grove of youth is so strange - because time exists for me for two months a year.
Questions that have no answers.
Do questions have answers, really?
Every answer seems fictitious.
Life is a relationship with a pathological liar, and if you're lucky, he doesn't abuse you further.
I'm cycling downhill, crickets in the bushes warming themselves by rubbing legs together.
It's warm and dry, but the air is cool and wet - like a compress on a bruised knee.
I tend to keep hitting my head.
Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 5:17 AM UTC
I did not imagine you
I have this hallucination thing under control
at this point,
And you weren't one of those
So no, I did not imagine you
But maybe I did invent you
Or, if I didn't invent you
Since you were a decade and a half older than me,
Maybe, maybe I apparitioned you
No, you wouldn't say that,
because it was I who walked
Into a world you called your own
I was the new girl in town
I know that you would say I possessed you,
But that I know for sure I did not do,
Because I treated you like an adventure
And baby, I love nothing more than a joyride
When my hands are off the steering wheel
Well, whatever it was
I know I read about you already,
In the poems I wrote years before I met you
So maybe meeting you was a chance
To take a last good look
At everything I've overcome
So thank you, for the memories
And the fights
And the mental mindfucks
And the pretty good ***
But I guess the seance is over
It's time to blow out the candles
Push the drapes to the sides
Air our the room
Farewell my Ghost
Feb 27
Feb 27, 2026 at 5:28 AM UTC
There are ways in which writing poems
is alike being a prophet
You start living life backwards
One day I will open an old journal
Flick through the entries and there we are
The story of our most recent heartbreak
Written down 6 years ago
How did my past self know that I would meet you
Why did I not listen when it told me how it would end
Why did It write about cages
And yet I let myself feel cheated
When I finally escaped them
The tragedy of a man
Is to orchestrate for themself
the fate they always wanted to escape
The blessing of a poet
Is to know that it is coming
and exactly what their smile will taste like
Feb 27
Feb 27, 2026 at 5:22 AM UTC
Past-curfew suburbia used to be my teenage years kingdom,
City nights were the unknown forest of hidden treasures.
Neon lights the fairy fires leading the way,
Numbness of mind was the quest that kept us on the road of self destruction.
And we long ago buried the honour of our knighthood.
Coming of age is a time when your expectations are higher than your self awareness.
But does the ear splitting need ever pass?
Or are we in a constant malaise of travelling up the hourglass.
Feb 16, 2021
Feb 16, 2021 at 9:38 AM UTC
it's a calm summer night
the clouds parted like a main drape
the scene set
here I am waiting
I've wanted it all to turn out fine
but the stars never seem to be falling for me
maybe it's because
everything else seems to be falling around me
here I am,
screaming, kicking, throwing stones upwards
hoping they will shine when falling back down
but the show takes place on this side of the drape tonight
Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 4:54 PM UTC
This is my abdication:
I vow to not love you anymore than you ever loved me
I resign from the comfort of your arms
I leave your secrets under lock
I abstain from being caged
I vow to not read the thoughts displayed in the folds of your crowmarks
I resign from being called at 2am
I leave the position of last resort
I abstain from fooling myself
I vow to erase the constellations of your freckles from the night sky
I resign from squeezing your hand
I leave my happiness to me
I abstain from getting hurt
I vow to forget the patterns of your tattoos
I resign from being burned by your lips
I leave your anger to yourself
I abstain from missing you
Signed,
Free of heart
Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 1:26 PM UTC