Smiling in my silent screaming pain,
It's like pushing the wall of hope in vain,
Then my heart aches to the bone,
Freezing me in the room to be alone.

Streetlights hum a lullaby
to neon dreams.
Cracked pavement blooms
with graffiti roses.

My heart, a tangled vine,
unfurling in the dark.
Too many words unsaid,
a choked-back symphony.

Phone screen glows,
a cold comfort.
Another night adrift
in the digital sea.

But somewhere, a connection flickers.
A shared breath,
a whispered "me too."

Maybe tomorrow,
the static will clear.
Maybe tomorrow,
we'll find our bloom.

i'm still running, running fast;
i'm running fast... i'm running fast -
this was never meant to last!

Clipping my poems
so that they look cute
on instagram
so that they huddle
like chickens bound in a
butcher’s lorry
making way for pictures
feet-  in –a tangle,
like snipping a plant
for Bonsai
you think it’s the branches that you prune
but it’s really the roots that you
mangle.