Puppy videos on Instagram,
snarky relatable memes,
pretty pictures pinned to my board,
filtered funny tweets.

Bashful poetry and uplifting words,
whispering truths to the cosmos,
a few shows, binge-watched,
peppy dance routines,
movies, music, art,
time-consuming scrawlings.

These are some
weapons in my arsenal,
my anti-venom
against the toxic approach
of tedious,
stifling
boredom.

The sounds of morning
roused me from a deep slumber.
The clouds grew tumid.

Songbirds of the day
kept me company and we
held the rain at bay.

A gentle twilight
broke the slow afternoon’s back;
a drizzle followed.

The sky wept last night;
the storm faded in hiccups.
Now the earth is dry.

Mine, mine, mine –
the pain is mine,
I can bear it.

Mine, mine, mine –
The shame is mine,
I can wear it.

Feel the brittle glass,
a couple of knocks
and it will shatter.

I have a spine of steel,
throw your rocks,
it doesn’t matter.

Watch me burn,
with cool disdain,
I won’t bemoan it.

This trainwreck is mine,
my hellfire to maintain,
witness how I own it.

‘What’s the point of it all?
Life is such a long haul!’
All my distress melts away,
bleak worldview turns upside,
once I saunter inside
the air-conditioned café.
Sometimes you are just hot
when you think life is fraught
on a white-hot summer day.

Feelings,
those insidious little things.
They ******, make you squirm,
sneak in unawares,
make nebulous all that is firm.

Feelings,
those traitorous little things.
They lift you up, make you float
then change without a warning
and sink the **** boat.

Feelings,
those warm little darlings.
With you through harmony or strife,
your companions, they let you
revel in the drama called life.

I need to dance with you and listen to you sing. I need to look at you, and  catch your eye at the exact moment you turn your head and smile at me. You have shown me that magic exists; kindness is not a myth. You, I need to do so many things with you. I need to follow your fingers as they move rhythmically to the tune of the universe. I need to breathe in your effulgent happiness. I need to touch and feel your scalding soul. The sadness that grips you and the darkness that stains your eyes, I need to partake in its lilting stillness. And as you float and stumble, crash and burn through life, I need to be there, pulsing, writhing, drowning in the abyss of wanting you.