#otherness
I will always be one of them
Never one of you
No matter how I change my voice
Or what I wear
Tighten the cloth around my neck
Choking to comply
Stain shamed handshakes
The border of us and them remains upstanding
The ache of my experience is already enshrined in folk songs passed long before my ancestors’ existence
What I have failed to put into words is already laid out before me
the shallow harshness of English inadequate
yet I am unworthy to house my writing in anything else
Jan 15
Jan 15, 2026 at 9:21 AM UTC
Once upon a time,
There lived a poet here —
not a precious one,
not a dear.
He wasn’t heard,
So he grew a beard,
hoping people
might lend him their ears.
But he wasn’t Christ,
not even a priest;
The beard only made him
look even more weird.
To them, he grew odder,
a stranger, another —
not the same,
but other.
***
In a world tuned to priests, a poet’s truth arrives off-frequency.
Nov 20, 2025
Nov 20, 2025 at 1:22 AM UTC
There is a spider in the corner of my room,
and I’m deathly scared of spiders.
But I won’t **** her,
because aren’t spiders deathly afraid of humans too?
They should.
We ****** them, choke them, torture them to death.
We scream and break their eardrums at the mere sight of them,
we insult them.
I would.
If I was a spider, I’d be deathly scared of humans.
But no spiders **** humans and all humans **** spiders.
(Still, spiders are the monsters in every tale)
Why do we try to make everything we’re afraid of
disappear?,
instead of learning to cope
with the fear.
There is a spider in the corner of my room,
and I’m deathly scared of spiders,
but I won’t **** her.
She didn’t choose to be born that way.
Jul 25, 2025
Jul 25, 2025 at 4:30 PM UTC
The sea rolls his waves
Smoothly to the shore;
From the dunes
Shrubs of prickly juniper
Scrutinize the horizon.
Burning summer but
Cool winds softly whisper
moments of eternity.
Two seagulls head for the moon,
Hoping to dive into pristine waters
In this declining afternoon.
Aug 21, 2021
Aug 21, 2021 at 9:34 PM UTC
patchwork girl dreaming
piecing together the scraps of silk
frayed ribbons of broiderie anglais
the tears of velvet darker than midnight
squares of sackcloth hessian made to scrape
against skin both thick and paperthin
patchwork girl sewn together
with a golden thread and a needle finer than hate
embroidered edges with floss spun by spiders
from clouds of dreams, flower thoughts, starwonders
and fragile pockets of maybe hidden beneath morning dew
stitches all lose, then too pulled too tight
she is together
she is all fallen apart
the soft shape of a doll
the tender shape of a girl
hold her, not an armful of scraps
but something precious, one of a kind
couture
Nov 21, 2020
Nov 21, 2020 at 12:50 PM UTC
“namaste” she says- as he holds a gun
her words a whisper, to cold blue eyes
but his hand shakes- she has almost won.
the sand is dry and the sky is only sun
it’s quiet – the wind begins its sighs
“namaste” she says – as he holds a gun.
the woman is hidden in black, like nun
the bodies pile ‘round her – rotting – covered in flies
but his hand shakes – she has almost won.
her beautiful onyx hair, forced into a bun
his composure falters, his eyes turn soft, ruining his disguise
“namaste” she says- as he holds a gun.
he curses the sky and sinks to the ground hoping to be numb
he’s become a monster- a killer- one who terrifies
but his hand shakes – she has almost won.
she stands up, gets ready to run
but then puts out her hand- to somehow
sympathize
“namaste” she says- as he holds a gun
but his hand shakes- she has almost won.
May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 11:28 AM UTC
You waited for the storm in my eyes to pass
and wreck someone else’s home for a change
you waited
ever so patiently
until it became a routine chore
but if you had looked up for more than a second
you would have realised that
Winter raised me
I am the storm.
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 12:41 PM UTC
What is it like to break off bonds with the toxic people in my life?
I don’t have all the answers
but I will tell you the truth:
it is like breaking your own heart
and mending it all at the same time
Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC
I screamed at my mother
until my voice hurt
I knew I was crazy
but I was so scared
she looked at me
like I was
her cup of coffee
that had spilled
I’m afraid
I can get in trouble
for being afraid
following the dog days
when you dogged me
in all ways
nothing kept me grounded
I forgot about the earth
heart was electrified
need for sleep unrecognized
I walked towards
who I left for you
hoping that if
I slept with him
you'd hear about it
you’d be jealous
when you called me
button
you were really saying
you couldn’t join two parts
without my help
now you can only
text me when
you’re alone
unlike when
you needed me
to keep your hole
from tearing
apart
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 12:43 PM UTC