Make
your
Next
move

Two. paces. forward.
three. paces. left.

New position
protection of the weak
inferior to the mightier.

One. pace. forward.

disposable
casualty of the battle
slice me open
take me into the other
with your strong hand.

Zero. paces.

Stay seated
and think ahed,
safe,
behind the wall of marble bodies.
DO NOT let them in.

None left.

Battle won.

Take me away to remind me,
that at the end of the game

the king and the pawn

are still put away

in the same box.

Beams of light explode over the soft sand,
i can feel the warmth on my face as i sit on the beach,
sinking softly into natures warm bed.
The light seems to turn everything it touches
into a glowing ball of light,
as if god himself is smiling down at the dawn of a new day.
The beach is deserted apart from a few seagulls
that seem to share this enlightened appreciation.
I grab my board and walk slowly towards the sand,
my feet sinking into the grains,
feeling the consistency change as the water laps at my ankles.
My wetsuit keeps me surprisingly warm
as the cold water rises slowly, and i close my eyes,
holding my board under one arm.
I smell the salt, the fresh air, this is what beauty is.
I wander in, losing myself in this new environment.
I duck quickly underwater wetting my hair and face,
floating weightlessly in the water for a second,
before rising, feeling fresh as i grab my floating board and straddle it.
Leaning forward, i can seeing fish scatter
as the first wave washes over me
like a tilde wave of emotions and stress,
i wipe the slate clean,
i am the tabula rasa and this is a new day.

Memories of past present and future invade my personal space, strangling me with their claws of deception.
I struggle against them, desperately trying to escape, the impression they leave suffocating and reaching with long tendrils for my most inner thoughts.
The darkness is almost touching me now, dancing, playing, teasing. Just so slowly spreading into my world and my life.
I can’t control it, only decide to live with it, understanding it and fighting it every day. Until i can’t fight it anymore, and then the small light which was burning slowly, was fading fast. It was close to me now, circling dangerously, i tried to escape but found myself jumping into the void, greeting it as an old friend.

“I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more grey."

The canvas on our walls,
help me remember you,
our story sinking into mesh
ink captives speak in hues

Can I shelter your barricaded soul?
or disarm you with my words?
following the path we’re making,
and paint, our greying skies with birds.

Or break down your paper barriers,
fading words in and out,
ill follow your heart anywhere
of that there is no doubt.

So colour me in with our truth,
and walk me through life’s gate
because this is our story my dear,
and our truth is our fate.

The night
belongs
to poets
and mad men
and perhaps
I am *both.

i feel your breath moving up and down slowly
your face, tranquil and untouched
i stare for a while, just enjoying this moment
your arms surround me like a cloak of warmth
your breath on my neck, sending shivers by my spine
you tighten your arms slightly, letting me know you’re still there
i have never felt more safe, or more at home,
i breath in your smell, drinking in your heat
my world at this time defined by yours
but you will never know
i can never give you that power

Chris, a boy whose smile
Can make your heart melt
Like Ice cream on your face

Doors of skeletons
and closeted fears,
framed insecurities
warn down for years.
Beds of monsters,
talons in the dark,
creeping closer
making its mark.
Sluggish bodies and
pots gone stale,
moulding diseases,
where strong bodies fail.
Salivating hounds and
sharpening teeth,
kettle of fluids that
drink underneath.
Clusters of death
and moans of life,
try to escape but
Instead twist the knife.

It seems she denied to the end
the source of the cataracts on her eyes
the cracked and suppurating skin of her finger-ends
till she could no longer hold a test-tube or a pencil
She died a famous woman denying
her wounds
denying
her wounds came from the same source as her power

I find comfort in the bottom of a swimming pool,
the streams of light overhead
quietly drinking in the water,
lapping at this microcosms feet.  
The familiar weight
in my ears drowns out the noise,
The coolness against my soft skin
feels weightless and beautiful
the eventuality of breaking the surface
is almost sorrowful
No one can touch you here,
like a stone you sink slowly,
you are cut free from the ties
that have held you for so long
and just like the tiny bubbles
you'll race towards the curving surface
and into the light
and realise you were never meant to breathe here.
Not long is left and you break through,
only wanting to escape
back to where everything
was so clear, and so simple.
But, although out of the water,
and into the hands of a new morning
the fingers still curl around your neck,
and you realise
you’ve been holding your breath for a long time
and you're still holding it
And you wonder
if you’ll ever breath again.

The world passes me by unnoticed
I’m savouring the way you looked
before you knew.
I can’t stop crying.
You looked so gorgeous tonight
i wanted nothing more than to kiss you.
but i walked away.
head in your hands.
I wearily drive home, the lollipop you bought
sitting in my lap, you know they’re my favourite.
I didn’t want to leave.
But i had too.
Theres a girl falling for a young boy tonight,
wanting nothing more than to hold his hand
But She’s alone.
And He’s gone.

I dive in deeper for you,
swept away in our microcosm.
Fragments of lost loves
dissolve on my tongue,
evaporating into the dark
as your words soak into my skin.
And all I can think of is you,
My hand in yours
My head on your shoulder
Your restless knees tapping
in time with my heart beat.
And I know I can’t be saved
when nothing else compares
to being next to you.
You're all I need to breathe.

Something innocent and pure as this
a common flower of lowly birth
darkened by the suns sweet kiss
stands alone on a lowly earth
Its bright centre, a nugget of gold
for a child whose face is overjoyed
to pluck this gem, away from mothers scold
and keep it hidden from a whirlpool void.
And i watch intrigued by this slow connection
of all flowers this is her only selection.
Of every beauty in summers bloom
the soft hands reach this lowly plant
it gives off not one hint of a sweet perfume
still her steps steep into a gregorian chant
as religiously her chain has started
links to links and stem to stem
each flower together cannot be parted
a living show of natures gem

I have written words crafted
with tears and love
you were my colour
but every chapter is
a new beginning
you’ve turned your page
and i now have to follow
so goodluck on your journey
and i hope
and i pray
that i will find someone
one day
who reminds me
of you.

With oceans in my lungs
I can barley breathe a word.
The surface of my thoughts,
just seem so far away.

My heads underwater,
in a sea of salty tears.
Wash down stained cheeks;
shaky hands
are heavy to push them away.
Come on..
try to breathe easy..
Stomach tightens in crying cramps,
begging for an escape
to feel something good.
Dark ringed eyes tell more stories
than a 100 year old tree.
Try to breathe easy..
I grab a pen
I grab some paper
and I write
I write words to calm the soul
write write write write

smoothing scribbling sounds

tears only exchange hellos
on intervals now.

Throat is closing
stomach churning
lips wet
mind is burning
shaky hands
scratch your nose
distract yourself
adjust your clothes
knee ****
small sigh
eye twitch
tongue tie
swallow hard
calming sound
taking over
downward drown

Feeling useless,
ugly hues
colouring in,
yellowing bruise
happy days
thoughts are wistful
mirrors lie
bitter fistful
saddened eyes
in ghost camera shots
wanted: ‘beautiful’
connect the dots
minds a scramble
at mirrors perception
feeling lonely
life's deception.
undeserving
of affection
can’t comprehend
seek perfection
take a breath
smile and hide
the bottled fear
you keep inside
life is short
accept the flaws
love yourself
Retract the claws.

I'm the observer, an outsider to the world. I sit and  watch.
The small child, eyes like shinning beacons.
They play silently. I cannot hear. I'm the observer.
Without them I would fall into the oblivion, the dark pit of reality.
This frightens me.

I'm the observer. I see her grow up, I see animalistic instincts,
I see it all. I watch people pass, unwarranted and alone I sit.
I cannot help feel invisible, maybe I am.
My only friend a small pigeon
Who seems to share my woe and disgust for the world.

People pass. I'm the observer. Nothing more and nothing less. Expressions range, each one having their own story,
I can see it all.
I suppose that's the burden of the observer, as an outsider to the world, lost and forgotten in a thought, a flicker, a moment.
Forgotten. forgot. forget. for go. for. go.

Twitching lullaby
Lay under the trees
Have your eyes opened
Bring me to my knees
Amongst moon and stars
See what I've seen
Keep tears in jars
Glitter and gleam
Missing in waves
Laughing in stream
Digging my grave
That's love at eighteen

He oozes confidence and importance,
each word uttered, weighted
by apprehensive travellers,
aluminising the dark with each footstep.

He is a silent shadow of protection,
perfect and full, a beaming white angel
amongst a dotted sky of night blue ink,
bleeding on out on his paper white face.

He mesmerises me with his stares,
tamed and direct i fall in awe at my feet.
Within cotton clouds and deep forest shades
his velvet black eyes, are all i could want.

She lay in the bath, half asleep or half awake she wasn't sure, but the warm water floated gently around her infinitely. And just like the memories in her mind the water lapped aimlessly at nonexistent edges, spilling over, as if wandering off the edge of the world.  
She moved her hand carelessly to tuck an escaped strand of hair behind one ear as the water hugged the creases and crevasses of her body, all contained in a white bowl of serenity with the only disruption in her mind. She starred absentmindedly into the reflection in the water, a distorted and watery version of her blue eyes and curly hair, although somewhere inside her she knew she was beginning to feel more like her reflection every day. Her tear stained eyes stared back at her, the makeup smudges making her look skillfully tired and worn as though an artist himself had hand crafted her very face and in the process aged her 5 years. Inside she lulled away, wanting to melt into the water and never care about anything more than was necessary. The soft, happy, carefree side temporarily locked away, with a combination that even she did not yet know. Instead an emotional whirlwind of feelings, angry and powerful tunneled out, amplified by so much as a word or a thought. It was these moments that almost took her by surprise, as if it was someone else pushing these people out, in an attempt to avoid explaining. This was accompanied by feeling as though the world had given her everything to live for and everything to lose in one breath. Her ragged breathing had eventually softened to an emotional sigh of trembling lips as she reimbursed herself with more hot water. Feeling it burn on her leg she watched pink ovals appear,  stinging with regrets and pain, a constant wishing to go back and re do and apologies and pause and rewind and forward.
With a click of her heel she snapped the plug away, maybe in some attempt to also drain herself of her tribulations that had almost enveloped her entire bath. Watching the water disappear quickly, she was entranced at the waters escape, loving how eager it was to run away from her. And with this she felt relief, as though she could finally breathe.

snapshot memories
lay scattered in silence.
An abundance of unclean
and hazy lives interconnect
before me, dodging and weaving
in disarray
some overlap
and others steer far apart,
but all are destined to be something.
And far apart from these, my life;
a torn edged, blurry photograph
lies in the middle,
moon light burns its edges
and sunlight fades its image
wind and rain thin its paper
but still it remains;
with possibilities beyond
what i or anyone else can imagine,
and so i sit from afar
gazing at this wonderland..
this ancient ritual of connections
that we call life,
teary eyed at its condition
and in this
try to find comfort in my
constant confusions.

Like oceans in the sky the clouds gently kiss,
Bending and swaying, guided by the moon.
They dance carelessly, twisting and blending
within an everlasting blue.

The noises of the street seem encased within my own conch shell.
My breath is tossed by tides of white foam as birds swim overhead,
ducking and diving, taken by a current underwing.

As I ponder, I see the lights, specs from above,
reminding us of possibilities of existing life.
These ***** of light twinkle and fade by morning
as they are greeted with light blue hues,
hiding
until their awakening sun invites them to shine once more.

And I am below the surface, as waves of sweet oxygen rush in to greet my starving lungs.
I stare upwards at our very own ocean skin, and think about the beauty held at the depths within.

My monsters crushed me
with their unsuspecting weight
hidden deep within the sadness
of my ever changing eyes
I wouldn’t expect most to understand
this constant, pressing heat
that has the power to take away
the beauty of a morning sunrise
But to be alone was what i knew
with secrets i was dying to say
with my burning heart desperate
for you to knee **** me back
to clear skies and brighter mornings
where i'll sing softly to myself
not wanting to speak my thoughts
to another soul, but you.
This perception might be distorted
by feelings and ‘the word’
that has not yet crossed our lips
as if its some sacred creed.
But i am a desperate writer
as many of us are, just
trying to convey thoughts
of a particularly long night,
where all i really want,
is to be next to you.

She had magnetic innocence
that pulled people to her in tides,
people with broken lives
and shawshank prisons in their heads,
people with duct taped memories
bursting against the seams.
And yet..
she still wonders why
she cries in rivers
filled with their pain
and her own.

The best kind of kiss
Is one that has been exchanged
a thousand times between eyes,
before the lips have even met.

Grasping at the air and your gone, like a whisper in my mind or my breath on a foggy morning. It lingers for a while, surrounding my head,
Like a pure cloud of delusion, a bubble of insecurities and hopes and desires and dreams and then it's gone, Like the flicker of a candle blown out by a child in an adult world, run away with the Humm of your breath, escaping into the night.
It's like quicksand running through my fingers, and I can see my time clock always feeling like it's running out, it's like a butterfly dancing into the deepest corners of my mind, running through a river of emotions and bursting through my
Mouth in a babble of awkward communication, freely flowing with everything that's been bottled
corked up and already set adrift in some running thought. All my
Mouth can conjure is a free flowing eclipse dabbed with bubbles of truth floating away to the surface of my sharp tounge.  And as the negativity cascades around me like a cloak of invisible emotion, the river runs from
my soul through my eyes, and the pain of crashing waves batters against my throbbing heart just willing you to take me in your arms, and plant a kiss on my forehead and tell me everything will Work out. But instead you're gone, like a whisper in my mind or my breath on this particularly foggy morning, and despite my frequent intakes and the river that won't stop running, I know that at the end of the day, that's all you wanted from me too.

i am sinking slowly, bubbles escaping my mouth, racing their way to the surface, competing towards their imminent death.

I watch, spellbound by their journey towards the sun. But i am not racing, i am not floating, i am sinking. Sinking lowly but surly towards oblivion. I am content though, feeling at peace with what is, what was and what could be.

The water starts to crush but i don’t mind, i take it as a blessing of sorts, i like this, condemned to be nothing more than what i am right at this moment. I like not being in control for once. I like the salted taste of the water as i watch the last bubbles force their way from my closed lips without my consent.

I close my eyes, feeling the weight of the water consume me and i slide back into the reality of my mind, encased beneath a blue world.

I know you're awake right now

and i’m still up, thoughts in overdrive.

I knew I was wasting my time,

but feathered brains speak in dissonance.


I knew you were gone months ago

with the wind as it guides the clouds,

laughing with sunshine and dabbling with the dark

as careless as you know I cannot be.


I stood grounded in mud, and you

kicking up dust on your heels

as you skipped away into the moon,

and I asked aloud why you left

but the pavement didn't answer me.


Silence filled me up like a ringing in my ears,

and it tasted like blood that I meant nothing,

and so I watched you drive away

and I said nothing.

Sometimes all you can do is lie in bed
and hope to fall asleep before you fall apart,
before the memories sneak out of your eyes
and roll gently down your cheeks.

Just close your eyes
and feel it,
feel the warmth of his skin.
The mundane activities of life
pass you by unnoticed
because in this moment
there is nothing you want more,
nothing you’d rather be doing.
If only this moment would last.
Careless, only noticing your breathing
and the feel of the grass
as you trail your finger though it
And you know its yours.
Beauty beyond what you could imagine,
seeing it in everything, the light,
leaves, trees, him. Its all there
waiting for you.

My mother gathered me on her knee
and oh the stories i would hear
“The prince slay’d the beast his eyes white 
and strained, his inevitable end was near”

“The fair damsel had long golden hair
her face as pale as snow.
The prince took home the beautiful maid”
of course knighthood would be bestowed. 

They would wander the soft green hills together
wanting soon to be wed,
They softly reached the large wooden door
And drank from the pool of red. 

Oh how merry they’d seem as man and wife
with his dark hair and her light skin.
Mother closed the book, the light turned off
and my slumber enclosed within.


I wandered the soft green hills alone
recalling a story once told
Of princes and dragons with golden flare
my mind once easy to mould.

Dead sheep from a wolf’s mouth i pass
the preacher stood in my midst
i walked right by, not a word to spare
his white strained eyes i did resist.

As i passed the church where grass once grew
dark graves, and candle lit light
but not a glance i threw to its golden prince
not awed in it’s holy sight.

I cannot discover
and I cannot find
the proper words
to express my mind,
all my thoughts
flood out to you
and I wonder if you're
thinking of me too,
an empty page
and pen in hand
this could only be
No mans land.

Wide-eyed girl

heart in full flight

eyes like tracers

reddened with night

then found myself

tangled in green

unable to escape

stuck in-between

weighed with longing

heart set in stone

wolf wanders closer

through grass overgrown

promising forever

begging to let go

holding my gaze

is he friend

or is he foe

I have too many thoughts
A weight in my mind
A weight in my body
A weight in my soul
Tears run paths undiscovered, finding new nooks and crannies
That I didn't know existed
Until filled with Insecurity
Write out the pain
Write out the hurt
Write out the worry
I have too many thoughts

I wonder if you knew, she liked mint ice cream
and would sing every day in the shower,
that words could hurt her more than you would know
because inside she was as fragile as a flower.

I wonder if you knew she used to be happy
and her laugh could brighten a dull room,
that she could write and paint and draw and be
like light reflecting flowers  bloom.

I wonder if you knew she had nervous ticks
and could tie her hair with one bobby pin,
that your constant pressing weight on her world
caused those tares and holes within.

I wonder if you knew she stayed up all night
constantly daring herself to be stronger,
letting her pain out the only way she knew how
the deeper the trench, the longer.

I wonder if you knew she had race track arms
and pain within her bleeding heart,
but no one knew, and no one asked
her canvas of light now fading black art.

I wonder if you knew that you were the cause
of something so deep and so painful,
can you live with that? think you could do it?
knowing the girl was always an angel?

I wonder if you know she had broken wings
and your actions drove her to extremes,
and now I can only hear her in my head
and see her in my dreams.

I wonder if you'll know, years from now
when you’re teaching your kid to play nice,
that she also used to be happy and free,
but for that, paid the ultimate price.

Sometimes I feel Invisible
So utterly alone,
A miserable existence
Where no place feels like home.
That dark and musty halo
Always hangs above my head,
Pushing deeper into me
So harsh my sunshine bled.
Now reality is clearer
It's written in my veins,
Tattooed on my heart,
Binding me with chains.
And so onto this empty page
Is where my thoughts reside,
My ink is my emotion
And behind my pen, I hide.

On those nights where you sit and talk,
when the crisp air surrounds you,
when everything seems at peace
You open yourself up in a way you hadn't before.
There is no need to hide.
Act as if there is no judgement,
but only your soul and the stars.

The universe surrenders only to a mind that is still,
and my thoughts often wander off the edge of the world.