Your lips churned lies you choked on so
I cannot sympathise.
Sweep up your bones
and lift them as
a sign of your demise.

She asks me if I would like to come in now
She asks me if I have been waiting a long time
She asks me to take a seat
She asks me if I would like a glass of water
I rarely turn down free stuff, so I say “okay”
She asks me about my degree
She asks me about how I’m coping in this cold weather
I’m good at small talk and can drag it out until the real issue is forgotten
She asks me how I’ve been this week
She asks me if I have seen my doctor recently
She asks me to grab a tissue from the box opposite her
allergies, I promise.
She asks me why I came to see her
She asks me to slow down a bit
So I do
and she sits
and she listens
so I breathe
I breathe again, but deeper this time
I am exposed, but not afraid
I begin.

You waited for the storm in my eyes to pass
and wreck someone else’s home for a change
you waited
ever so patiently
until it became a routine chore
but if you had looked up for more than a second
you would have realised that
Winter raised me
**I am the storm.

What is it like to break off bonds with the toxic people in my life?*
I don’t have all the answers
but I will tell you the truth:
it is like breaking your own heart
and mending it all at the same time

WEATHER VAIN
The sun set over calming seas
Shining yellow, blue and red
I smile, like all the others do
But the weather’s in my head.

The moon illuminates my room
as I curl up in bed.
Soft breeze blows billows over me
But the weather’s in my head.

Loud thunder rages up above
and fills my heart with dread.
Still, it and I are both the same
‘cause the weather’s in my head.


Large hailstones bash against my skull
and leave me there for dead.
They’ve frozen up my precious brain.
Why’s the weather in my head?

The sun will thaw my ice-cold scalp
I’m certain it will spread.
For now, I rest in perfect peace
whilst the weather’s in my head.

I am me and you are not
You are you and they are not
And now you are problematic
Because you made a decision that changes things
Now people can’t make money from your blissful state, your solitude, your happiness
Because now, no one can sell you the life you’re meant to crave
People like us should not exist
But yet, against all odds
here I am
here you are
existing, surviving, thriving
living.