I'm a crook.
So are you.
We all are, in this world
of black and white and two add two
and when broken hearts leave a trail,
we promise in secret we're not all that frail
as we seem to be.

Do fear being intoxicated by the
fumes of our dreams, that
slithers into the air and
like snakes with fangs venemous
one bite is
addictive.

And there are dreams that are left suspended,
hovering like fireflies, dreams of undying light
but hang like pitiful apples from an
apple tree, that nobody wants to eat from.

Yet the whiff of a dream dying is
crippling to hope
because each dream is like a candle,
so you must let the flame burn,
the wax to drip-
drop
for you to make something of-
even if it is a little meek.

Hollowness was a gift
given by tragedy
she unwrapped it ever so
delicately
and wore it like a crown

and her words were knives that
cut the silent air and made
gashes so wide,
souls sailed them like the seas
and oh how loneliness
was like a beggar-
she stopped only to feed. For greed,
isn't for riches, but for what makes you feel
more.


Hungry.

There’s a knife in my brain

and it goes:

cut slice open

cut slice open

cut slice open

and bleed.

my mouth is a tunnel of words

too big for my mouth, and they spill and tumble

and crash and fumble

like a traffic jam-

Hi nice to meet you, Hinicetmeetoyou

Do you know English, girl? Yes, but it doesn’t know me

and who put these cuffs around my lungs?

What did they do wrong, I haven’t spoken any words

I have a paralysed

tongue.

Is it okay if my lungs use the phone? There’s someone on the line, a heart all alone-

A heretic queen, oh this devilish thing

cries,

when was it a crime to breathe? Grant these lungs this courtesy,

And if the heart is accused of heresy, I say ‘hear me!’


You see,

if you leave the heart to wilt it will just stay,

still.

It needs a friend- or two,

to beat

And you’ve got to feel the rhythm,

in your feet

or it’s going to lose that drumbeat

to which you

sing.

Once she wished she was in a chrysalis,
to undergo a metamorphosis
one of human to butterfly-
a pretty one that couldn't get hurt-
especially during daylight.

But it was at night, a twist of fate
caught her dream of flying with pretty wings
in a big, white net and set it free, high up in space.

Now her only dream was to float alongside the moon,
so when she was asked, what she wanted to be
an astronaut was what she said.
When it was greeted with a laughter-full
"Oh don't be silly darling, I'll be Queen before that happens!"
she refused to believe it, and realigned her thoughts like constellations
inside her head.

Then she ran into the embrace of the night
soaking in the stars, that hovered above
like they were the dreams and wishes
and hope, left scattered and suspended
in the air-
left to dust.

As if everyone felt that
they were alone in this
fleeting wish- of being elsewhere
like Mars-
and it turned out to be so fast-
they couldn't catch it.

So in circles they ran, breathless.

Yet she couldn't ignore the itch in her heart
she scratched ever so tenderly
that when it bled-
it bled a thousand stars-

and she found all the hope she needed.

My blood tastes like copper

Your blood tastes like copper coated lemons

Grown in an infested heart.

You.

Whose life is a broken record,

Playing the same sweet sonnet over and over and over, even

Shakespeare would weep for you.


My heart is a pendulum,

That swings open at the scent of love

But you.

Your heart is a soldier for your self-defeating thoughts,

To feel would be like

trying to scratch through ore with your fingernails.


For me, kindness is my ammunition

Without it, I’m weak

But to you.

Kindness is the mutated cousin of bitterness,

a foreign language you’ve not yet learnt to speak.


So while my heart hums along with the Universe’s old song,

Yours is wailing to breathe-


Because you, are so starved of love

you have forgotten how to eat.