I stood there with my wings outstretched, ready to soar into the sky of dreams with you, but I failed to notice that my feet were firmly stuck in the muck of attachment.

I find more comfort in strangers
than my family

Stay here
when everything says run.
Stay here
when the jaw grinds shut.
Stay here
when the breath runs thin.
Stay here
when you're out of your skin.
Stay here
when the drink calls quietly.
Stay here
when the voice says spitefully,
"you're not enough"
because
when it comes to this stuff,
running feeds the fire
and true healing requires
staying here.

I found you
As a friend
Took you
By the hand
We both
Got ******
Lost you
In the wind
Because
My poor
little head
Went round
The ******* bend

How many words
and verses
can someone use,
about the one
they thought
they would never lose

If they only knew
how much I’ve written,
would it change
the way they would listen

I write
from my heart,
from the angel
who touched us
to the devil
who tore us apart

We shared the innocence
that you once had,
for me to come along
to scoop it all up
and make it so bad

If not today
then one day
I’ll make the amends,
so hopefully after that
we can become good friends

If I’m being honest
I have never felt
comfortable in my own body
I always thought
my chest was never
big enough for my heart
my mind
too slow for my thoughts
and my weight
too light to
handle all this heaviness

there is something good
and some light
in this desire
enraging my cells
with divination chanting
sculpting my shape
in violent curves
I don't recongnize the hues
of mornings
because of frenzy:
the new definition of gravity
along the lines
mesmerizing visions of
softness and caring

love is a whirlwind
in any language
a clear water
so you can see
how translucent
nakedness can be

hers is
the bending of space
to smaller and smaller
atoms of delight,
fusion, diffusion, infusion

it holds you tight
from the very centre
(heart&lungs)
when it breaks you
and then these traces
the swarming of photons
in the fabric of skin
sweet radiance,
energetic warmness
an arch, a cohort of waves
crushing everything
like cherries' sense
reality sense
roads' sense

a scarring refusing
to scream/bleed
defiance of stillness
music of laughter
sun raising in your hands

there is something beautiful
for the poetess in me
it just describes herself well
for the never-day
it transmutes
anything:
beauty into horror
horror into despair
despair into words
even thought into
singing birds

The lonliest people
push away arms that care
they kick at gifts of comfort
as if the lonliness itself were a grey woollen blanket
wrapped tight around themselves
protection against feeling anything at all
except lonliness
because that would make the blanket fall
and leave them cold
naked in the light
and vulnerable
to vicious attacks of kindness