On the day
her body burned
she asked the
winds to be
her friends
and they
picked her
up and poured
her through
the fingers of
their hands
like a river
without ending
that won't
be tied or
bound, until
every trace of
dust embraced
the freedom it
had found.

it is baffling that after
a series of unfortunate/emotional/fulfilling events that
someone would ask to use
one word to describe how
                                              you feel
                                              the day was.


my teacher once told me to
cut down on my sentences because
apparently ‘shut up!’ was more
effective than ‘shut up you are
very noisy and disturbing me.’


"but," i protested, "i am a long-distance runner.
my periods end far past the 400m mark.
besides my ‘and’s are your punctuation equivalent and
my full stop your ‘the end’ because i
can’t stop won’t stop not when my chest
is so full of air and lead and
pounds like a mad man locked up
not when there are tyre marks and red lights be ******
not when dots and curves and dashes feel like moving day
as though you can pack feelings into neat spaces.”


how i feel
         my day is
is not an entity to fulfill your collection of
singular adjectives because no
one word explains the comfort of a
dear friend in a day with
too many questions and far too few answers
because the dictionary cannot match being sad and angry
for being sad and annoyed for being angry for being sad.
so know that when i say ‘good’ or ‘bad’ or even ‘reflective’
they are poor substitutes for all the
nouns and prepositions i force back down.

I need you to take
the fragments that broke
and stick them back
in swiftly stroke.

I kept trying, I did, but
couldn't do it myself you see;
oh please won't you rip off
this bandage for me?

I want to be able to feel
all that's past but isn't gone
but with my heart in pieces
I just can't know what's wrong.

There's no pressure really
just please make it clean
and don't puncture any of
my major arteries.

I'm strong enough?
No, you don't understand
I knew what I could take, but-
this isn't what I'd planned.

This broke me but it didn't hurt;
now I'm just practically dead.
I need someone else to fix me
so I can remember how I hit my head.

Sleeves of scars
and a garter of silver lines and burns
oh the hurt I've endured
Seated by the fire as a child
Lord knows I've had thoughts like this for a while
I'd dwell on the discretion I took
brooding over every hook that snagged my flesh
made a mess
of the little girl I never was
and they who shook me
pet me from the inside out
must have forgotten to what degree
their consumptive hands made me bleed
God how I wish they could see
every stain left with or without cause
was provoked by their nostalgic applause
but I don't even blame them
It was a conscious disease
perniciously eating
still chewing at me.

i like my tea with a glow of sunlight
through canvas window curtains
with peaks of skin underneath
big feather blankets
and a sleepy morning smiles

i like my tea with warm, scratchy tones
from old vinyl records
deeply etched with memories
and all the ones i love
here to sing along

i like my tea swirling with thoughts
of everything i live for
everything i hope to be
and all the luminescent people
each day that i see

and most importantly i like my tea
hot from the hibiscus flower

brewed and set for two minute, no less

no milk or sugar added

just my
simple
bliss