I thought of killing myself because I am only a bricklayer
      and you a woman who loves the man who runs a drug store.

I don't care like I used to; I lay bricks straighter than I
      used to and I sing slower handling the trowel afternoons.

When the sun is in my eyes and the ladders are shaky and the
      mortar boards go wrong, I think of you.

Loving me with my shoes off
means loving my long brown legs,
sweet dears, as good as spoons;
and my feet, those two children
let out to play naked. Intricate nubs,
my toes. No longer bound.
And what's more, see toenails and
all ten stages, root by root.
All spirited and wild, this little
piggy went to market and this little piggy
stayed. Long brown legs and long brown toes.
Further up, my darling, the woman
is calling her secrets, little houses,
little tongues that tell you.

There is no one else but us
in this house on the land spit.
The sea wears a bell in its navel.
And I'm your barefoot ***** for a
whole week. Do you care for salami?
No. You'd rather not have a scotch?
No. You don't really drink. You do
drink me. The gulls **** fish,
crying out like three-year-olds.
The surf's a narcotic, calling out,
I am, I am, I am
all night long. Barefoot,
I drum up and down your back.
In the morning I run from door to door
of the cabin playing chase me.
Now you grab me by the ankles.
Now you work your way up the legs
and come to pierce me at my hunger mark

Sometimes what I write
Is less poetry, more rant,
While sometimes, this girl
Plans beforehand.
Yes, I like to play God sometimes,
And before I actually sit down to create,
I twiddle my thumbs, think a little
And decide my dear poem's fate.
Ah when I know exactly the very last line,
Those poems are the best kind!
I may wander, get lost on the way,
But the finale is crystal in my mind.
So today I wondered if
I already knew-
Just like I know this poem's conclusion,
That the ****** of my life was going to be you,
How easily would I spin my entire life,
All my dreams, my nights and days
Around the beautiful knowledge
That you were just some wait away.

                                             *

Though now that I'm pouring
My thoughts into creation,
I realise the end that I'd foreseen
Doesn't really meet my expectations!
I'll have to let the words take over now
Perhaps, like I'd let destiny
Govern us too,
I'll let the end pave its way through,
Just like my life stumbled into you.

Because some poems, and love stories
Aren't made with pre-thought choices.
Some poems, and love stories
Are best served with sweet unknown surprises.

I've eaten no food in days,
Nor have drinks to sustain.
And yet inside me grows a well,
Flowed with poison and shame.

Eyes lead to the soul,
And my insides, they are churning.
Why would I think this a good idea,
My senses are all burning.

These sleepless eyes, are open wide,
My conscience soon to shut.
But before I go I need to see,
That this treachery will come to a stop.

sat in a dark room today

just me and the light from my laptop

and i felt calm

for the first time in a long time,

i wasn’t worried

and i didn’t think once about the things that worried me

and i realized something

just because you don’t believe my anxiety is there

doesn’t mean it isn’t

i live with it everyday

my fear of people

my fear of failure

my fear of saying the wrong thing

or doing the wrong thing

my fear of everything

my fear of losing the relationships i worked so hard to build

my fears aren't yours

yours aren’t mine

and that’s **okay