Little girl, your deepest fears have
Nothing on me.
Speak to me of your angst;
It's a miniscule bug to my foot.

Our pathetic misunderstandings
Are egos fighting the memories of
Each other in themselves.
Love is ***** and diamonds.

I love you prematurely when I
Sense spring on your
Skin. It turns me on beyond myself.
So let's just argue,

If that makes you feel as alive as you
Should beneath the hands of my
Unshared attention.
Little girl, your fears have nothing

On me.
I eat insecurity like sushi, wasabi
Memories of idiots telling you
You were never meant to write or

Be written of.
Grab yesterdays with the sticks of
Now-man's hands  
And toss them over your shoulder

Like salt after some you spilled.
Your deepest fear is as shallow
As a puddle.
I've shouldered ten times your

Weight, without love.
Watch me now.
You need not set a foot.
I carry you like the sky its stars.

Words are now
as if
I never wrote

gather as an aching
lump in my throat.

They don't seek paper
only a river
to pour and mingle
in refrains of a dumb sadness
flow away
sunburned and tidewashed
to where the river is widest
deepest with sighs
of life not enough
in once only
and when just begun
ending broken on the shore.

From time to time
I feel blue
and cook my own stew.
Its bland and
taste good enough
for my stomach.

I knew from the start
that my cooking
isn't really that great
nor it's appetising.
Atleast
my milk is
sweet.
I'm not fond of sodas
dislike the fact that
it boils my
stomach.

Food, for now
they're within
reach, though
must someday
will come -
starvation is
inevitable

“Why are you still here?”
Is the question she asked me the first time we met.
I was not fazed.
I was not hurt.
I felt nothing.
It is a question I ask myself at times.
I answered with a dry voice in a body that was so quite
It felt like I may be stone.
A stillness so fragile the slightest wind could shatter it.
“For years I’ve crept along life aimlessly,
A ghost with no voice.
Staring at the EXIT sign that follows me everywhere.
I want to go through
And yet my body is too stiff to move….  
I’m holding out on the idea that I may be wrong about the world.
About me.
As I so often am.”
And in the hollowness that poisons me,
I found a shimmer of hope that still resides in me.
A hope that I just may be wrong.

The sun so bright the epitome of life
Contrasting dark green coconut leaves
And white sands blue seas
Fiji
The place where hearts keep dreams. ..
.
Come see :)

Cold, lonely shower.
Watching the skies turn dark grey.
Soft piano notes.