My solace...
I can spend a lifetime in your arms,
crying, laughing, sleeping in your embrace.
I spend most of my days lost in your charms.

You feel like a summer night in December.
Long chats & slow strokes. You remember?
You taste like my favourite wine..
Coffee, grapes, cherries; oh so fine.

You feel like home.
You smell like home.
You taste like home.
You are my home.

The view from the top completes me.
I hear you breathing, you're grabbing; consume me.
The pounding reminds me of heaven,
a place I've never been to but I'm sure its like you Kevin.
I'm in love with a god, I'm floating.
I wrote this poem in my head while he was stroking.

You let me write while I was on a ride,
because you know this is all for you.
An adventure,  I'm in the sky.
I could go on forever about everything you do.

You feel like home.
You smell like home.
You taste like home.
You are my home.

a livid whirl
between love is a family’s rage -
     a mother who’s full of spite
a father who’s mindset can’t be replaced
  so close, yet so far from love
i rip out my curls - her own thoughts
are contaminated with these ideas of hate
     the thought of what could be only
tears me apart and drives me insane

- t.m

i was nine and small

mouthed when i found

what would be my suicide note

in a bottle by the boulders

at kleinmond



at the time i believed

i was too smart for this world and so

paradoxically

i could not understand

how love could ****



children are foolish in some ways\and in some ways fortunate



sometimes what is not meant

to be will be

and what is meant

to be will not

but if everyone had just one

person i don’t think it could

be called love



although i don’t know what else

it could be



when i think about how

many people drown in my town

every summer

i wonder if maybe it was never intended

for us to learn to swim



i could make a similar

argument about love

Dear Daddy

You put your hand on my leg in the movies.

I wanted you to stop.

You hugged me.

I wanted you to stop.

You smiled at me.

I wanted you to stop.

Imagine being afraid of a stranger,

Imagine that stranger was your father.

Signed your 8 year old daughter.

Writing creates a paradigm.

Much like a camera, it is a paradigm that we can look through in order to see the world, or create one, from a different perspective.

I decided to step away from my art and look at the lens itself instead of looking through it.

What I found is that we are able to paint pictures with words, pictures that don’t exist and we can create artworks with those pictures that allow you to see them in the most magical way possible while knowing that each artwork is different and unique depending on the person that composes it.

It is being able to travel the world as we know it through symbols and letters while not moving an inch from where we are in time and lead ourselves to a beautiful yet twisted sense of duality.

Maybe it’s the feeling of godhood in creating life, worlds or even stories yet I am still human but I become a god outside of time.

I take my imagination and make it tangible.

They say actions speak louder than words but I am a writer and words are all I have. So, maybe one day, as these words drip from my fingertips they will find you and they will drown your thoughts with beautiful pictures and hopefully, you might just understand,

Why we write.

They say actions speak louder than words,

But there’s still a reason why the pen is mightier than the sword.

The initial concussion was prudently timed,
but not as tremendous as the distorted appearance of
the authentic invisible line that rules the blur side of site.
Subsequently, Would the dead dot find out ?

The deception was born three centuries earlier than the date
On the Earth’s birth credential,the Calendar!
which gave a power exemption to the hands of the eager,
Had we been trapped...
In logic, like psychology mistaken for philosophy
And why did They... what was in it for Plato and
Will it take us all our lives to figure it out ?

The Psych has the source of pride,
“That which truly is can’t come into being,
Can’t change in any respect, and can’t perish.  
That which becomes never truly is.
So, things that come into being, alter and eventually perish never really exist.”

On the other grip, The uninformed's portion was no worse then
Than it is now.
The distribution of labor made sense
In theories developed by the ancestor
of the school of speculation
Who grasped the rationale their origin had used
To ****** and deceive, reduce and receive.

The arrangement looped itself, the same case
In a different procedure complying the conventions of
A popular character.
The cold of a desolate native.
Imprisonment, Mentally accredited and
While there’s hardship still on the bars and,
In the window, a clear path is always vivid.
The sight was Buried earlier.

Now, The panic is absent.
But the pain still stands.
And the blade, The pistol,and the Cheap prescriptions
for the wretched are only a few decisions away.

If love is matter then it must have three states, so do I believe,

If love is solid then it must be a fruit, how sweet the taste,
We love it,
We eat it,
We want it, we need it,
How delicate, how adorable, every season it comes in new types,
But if not consumed will certainly rot,

If love is a liquid, then it must be water, found everywhere,
We dig wells to find it,
We cook with it,
Bath with it,
How precious the liquid is,
But if left in open will evaporate,

If love is gas,
Then it must be oxygen,
We breathe it,
We can't see it but need it
We know it exist but, can't touch it...

If love is matter then it must have three states, so I do believe,

Like do you ever just look at me & say well I'm **** lucky to have you ? Probably not I'm too weird , anyway well I do that with you all the time. I just lay thinking about you every night. I could talk to you all day. We wouldn't even have to say anything to each other really. I crave your touch to the point that my body tenses up for a few seconds. I crave you in general. I don't know what I'd be like without you or where I'd be. You make me so angry when you don't reply after 10 seconds.  You make me feel all I need in my life is you (which isn't really true for anyone in reality) but however you're a big part of me, who I am , & who I wanna become. You mold me. You've shaped me into a person who has things to be proud of. You bring so much happiness into my life I quite often ask myself what did I do to deserve it. I'll never get tired of you. Your flaws are what make you perfect. Everything you do is so unflawed to me. I respect you & your hustle.  I'll be there for you through rags & riches. They're always like "be somebody's Sunday not Saturday Night". You my angel, are my 7 days a week , 24 hours a day 365 days a year. You're just always there. You love me & all my broken pieces even if at times they cut you , you love that scar it gives you too.   Loving you will never get old. But even if it does I'll  find a way to start loving you all over again .... ♡.

I want to know how many scars

you have and memorize the shape

of your tongue.

I want to climb the curve of your

lower back

   And count your vertebrae

                      Your ribs

                      Your fingers

                      Your goosebumps.

I want to chart the topography of your anatomy and be fluent in your body language.