She calls and cries,
But there are only echoes
Bouncing on the walls
Of my empty chest.

She is forgotten.
She gets pushed aside.

𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥?

.

▪︎ mica light ▪︎

Have I truly lost myself?
My humanity, my grace?
And if I am truly lost then can I find me in this place?

Or have I truly found myself?
My passion, hope, and jest?
And if I am truly found then should I lay my head and rest?

Or should I yet push forward
into the ever-shifting mists,
forget whether to be lost or found and simply just exist.

I am shades of midnight, shards of the same galaxy collapsed and contrasted to tiny little ***** that grow like eggs not subsumed by Mars quakes.
I am faulty genes, x-rays, heart scans, and red cells insufficient.
I am sexuality in a world yet to be explored by I and me.
I am a jar of dry camomile leaves turning to shades of sunlight spreading over the river leaving spaces for evening lights.
I am petals of the stars waned to the fragrance of flowers travelling with wanderlust from world to world.
I am insights from colours of black, white, golden, everything. I am a sanctuary of solitude, edging on certainty.

I am the oscillation between feeling brilliant at birthing my art and really quite derided at churning consistent literature.
I am the east London girl left with derelicts of poetry originating from Alfred Hitchcock films.

I am the walk by the sea that gives the feeling of the wind coming off the waves. I am the travel between seasons on railways to off-the-beaten-paths destinations through countrysides and beyond to flea markets collecting memories, soul and travel tchotchkes.


I am Sunday breakfast and tea in bed, buried inside heaps of sheets, using body warmth for shield.
I am pure joy, one whose heart howls with laughter and a face whose grin is as silly as the scowl of a Cheshire Cat with a hissy fit. I am a numismatist and I am the girl who collects stamps and inherits vinyls owned by my father from the 1960s.
I am coffee without cream. I let the days and the weekends amaze me like my time in Hamburg.
I am the random stroll to the local Signorelli bakery to have an almond croissant and fresh Italian latte and a nice chat with the ******* lady.
I am a creation inspired by the likes of Thomas Hardy, Francoise Sagan, Zadie Smith, the humour of Lucy Mangan, and the wit of David Sedaris.

I am her, ambivalent between jaunting between rural and suburban villages, bustling cities and seaside towns. I am soul inspired songs by the Upsetters and likes of Otis Redding’s ‘cigarettes and coffees’. I am stuck between layers of diversity notwithstanding an identity of complexities.
I am the cheateu in the north of Bordeaux where we did that thing and the grandfather clock chimed and we laughed so hard, we choked.
I am excitement yet forgettable like the confetti that drops to the floor after weddings.
I am midnight in Paris and late night strolls on 57th and 6th in New York.

I am a result of the birth of a post term delivery caught unduly unprotected by the amniotic fluids of mother.
I am layers of skin shedding in green and yellow slime because mum had me at the 11th month with a fontanelle that retained ground rice which she ate when she went into labour. A fontanelle that never left and each time I braid my hair by someone new, they tell me of the dent as if it was something new I only just discovered.
I am June created on the first day of summer like Marilyn but could have been April beautifully bore in Spring like April in the TV show, ‘Mistresses’.

I am the heart heaved at a belief swooned towards a soul immortal. I am one who never wants to stop making memories with you, my ‘buh’.
I am ménage a’ moi and I am the Pas de deux as long as I am joie de vivre, then la vie est belle.
I am altered by indie and foreign films that tell elegantly of French girls admirably in love like that of ‘Jeune and Jolie’ and ‘Blue is the warmest colour’.

I am the smell of my ‘babuska’s’ saliva plastered all over my palms as she wipes them clean with her wrapper cloth sealing them in prayers for good destiny and good health.
I am the crux of the patron of St Andrews representing Bajan maidens, Danish singers, Scottish spinsters, Argentine migrants, shell shocked survivors, women wanting to be mothers, gouts, jaws and sore throats.

I am a spanner in the works aggrieved by familiarity and **** taking. I am all there is, transported in my ******, prayer and thoroughness, clear and bright like a snowy Christmas sunny morning.


I am June

they'd all grow up to be lunatic *******
and if i happened to put it there
no women i know is quite dumb enough
not to have that abortion
is why i would never have children

Where the hell is humanity
All I see is insanity
Focusing on wars and vanity
Speaking up gets people mad at me
Nothing on this planet is flattering
People starving and freezing; teeth are chattering
Police taking blankets from the homeless
Even in the places where snow is
People are so violent and shameless
Is there even a way to tame this
Or do our efforts further inflame this
It's time to collectively claim this
Look at all the problems that we make
By blindly following the side we take


Politics and money are one in the same
Why must we think life is all about fame
We have so much more that we can do
Like question why the sky isn't blue
What are those lines that expand all day long  
Is questioning their safety so ******* wrong

Everything on this planet is basically toxic
And people wonder why we're all so sick
Plastic, chemicals, metals, and poisonous water
Feeding processed foods to your son and your daughter
When the aquifers are empty, what will you think
You're going to rely on toxic water and oil to drink?

I swear to God you need to look around
In the sky, at the world, and what's underground

Did you know that bees are life and so is clean food
If the elite continues to rule, we're all ******* *******
False flags, terrorism, furthering their plan
For a one world government, that rules all the land
We're already slaves, but it will get so much worse
If we continue to forget that we all come first
Nobody should get left behind or feel like they're stuck
Let's show each other love and actually give a ****

Selfishness and narcissism run rampant in our world
Walking around like we own the place, our lips slightly furled
Looking into each other's eyes but there's not much there
I see shallow complacency, that infamous fluoride stare

The world is going down, unless we turn it around
Look at Syria, Palestine, and all areas that surround
Fear, violence, and terrorism is life
No husband is safe, no child, no wife
They're eating the grass
And rotten food from the trash
Starving and freezing throughout the winter
They can't even leave their towns, they're stuck in the center
They've been targeted by rulers of this sick twisted place
The banksters are evil they don’t belong in our space  


How can they be so far removed from the rest of the planet
If anything benefits us they make sure to ban it
LSD, mushrooms, cannabis, and DMT Anything good for cancer: B17 and CBD
Essential oils are what's next on their list
I swear if they take my lavender I'll be so ******* ******


Alternative energy is more than suppressed
The need for clean energy should be more vocally addressed
But when it is, someone intervenes and hides great inventions
Laws and patents are created to stop our intentions
For a clean world and a safe place
The elite couldn't care less about the lives that they waste
They build on the dark side of the moon or possibly Mars
They're preparing themselves a new world, while they **** up ours

I only feel solace when I look into space....
Why must it be so hard to save the human race?

Come with me down the rabbit hole
It does look scary
But it'll awaken your soul
Knowing the truth is worth all the pain
Keep ahold of yourself and you won't go insane
Every problem we face DOES have a solution
There is a way to have a peaceful revolution
Keep your heart present and don't get lost
Choosing hate over love comes with a cost
Right action, compassion, and empathy we need
Not fear, propaganda, judgment, and greed