Find your place,
a thinking space
you can call your own,
inside your mind
it’s important to find
a private zone,
where you can be you
and first in the queue,
for good mental health
take some time for yourself

My average means I don’t have to take final exams.
So my bachelor's degree is a finished product.
I cranked it out, all that’s left now is the walk (May 18th).
Let’s call it my nearly forgotten masterpiece.
My schedule says that I start a 1-year ‘master of public health’ degree in 38 days.

It was my mom’s idea. She said, “You need to keep active” (pre- med-school).
It sounds crazier to me now than it did last year, when I was accepted and agreed.
Now, I feel like some chary, aging showgirl who’s about to be hustled back on-stage.
But what’s life without massive compromise?
Anyway, don’t cry for me. I’m still sizing it all up, I’ll figure it out.

I suppose we’re all out there hustling.
It’s our response to slowing med-school admissions,
those glitches in the medical, industrial education complex
or that’s how the narrative’s shaped, anyway.
It’s not the additional work that bothers me, I’m regular worker bee,

It’s the perma-threat of loneliness.
I’m already packing. Leaving feels real
and I'm surfing this maudlin wave tonight—shading deep blue.
The simple march of time will take away friends I’ve grown to love.
We’ve allegorised and transformed one another by proximity.

I’ve really loved it here.
.
.
Songs for this:
Graduation (Friends Forever) by Vitamin C
Graduation Day by Tony Rivers & The Castaways

If I am made to be alone in this lifetime,
then let me be.
I do not want to know anything about others.
I do not want to talk.
I do not want to form connections.

No pictures, no videos,
no souvenirs to hold.
No questions.
No conversations.
No ties, no threads,
no strings pulling me back.

I will listen only to what my soul can hold.
I will see only what softens my eyes.
I will feel only what my heart can take.

I will never try too hard.
Because I will be the judge of my own life.

To follow where my feet wander,
I will go where the wind does not need directions,
where my shadow is the only one that knows my name.

Let me run into the rain barefoot,
laugh into thunder,
dance with lightning until my bones burn to ashes.

I yearned to become one with the earth;
the sand, the wind, the sun, and the moon.
I will be the ocean.
I, too, will be the fire.

Loneliness will feel like a cloak of disappearance—
invisibility, and power.

To live.
To just exist.
And someday, to quietly cease,
without sound, without weight.

Let me feel less,
float more, and fade.

I only ask that the universe and its occupiers—
to let me just be.

they see your light
luminescent and burning with pale shades of pink and orange
they love to bask in its warm glow
but they could never sustain it so far

silly girl, always mistaking her own reflection as another's glow
when will you ever learn?

perhaps when your whole world is dim enough
and all the mirrors have fogged up
you will trace that sliver of light
on your own fingertips
in the iris of your eyes

painful, but necessary for you to finally realise
you are what you seek in everything.

They put my name on the box
but I don’t remember signing anything.

All I know is
the cookies smell familiar.
Like a Tuesday that never ended,
like the living room before the arguments
started showing up in the drapes.

They say they use real butter.
Small batches.
Heritage grains.
But I know
you can’t bake silence that warm
without a little blood in the dough.

The woman on the package is smiling
because she’s not allowed to scream.
Every wrinkle airbrushed to resemble trust.
Every crumb designed to disintegrate
just before you remember why you started chewing.

I keep eating.
Because what else is there?
Dinner was a voice memo.
Breakfast was a bookmark.
And no one texts first in this house.

There’s a flavor I can’t place—
something like
apology,
or static,
or being loved
by accident.

"Cookies.”
Now available wherever truth is sold
in resealable pouches.

**** me, kindly
With your gentle hands
Save me, oh so sweetly
For in your tender grasp
Lies the only cure
To my ugly.
Undesirable.
Unsalvageable pain.

                                                    𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑦𝑜𝑢—
                                           𝑀𝑦 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑—
                                                        𝐼­ 𝑏𝑒𝑔—
                                                         𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡.
                                                         𝑂𝑛𝑒.
                                                        𝑇ℎ𝑖𝑛­𝑔.


                                                      𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑙­𝑦.
                                                       𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑦.
                                               𝐾𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒—𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒.


Gentle hands
We've already established
Could never do any harm
So clearly—
No harm shall be done
As you
Oh, so kindly
Wrap your gentle hands around my neck
And oh, so sweetly
Squeeze.

                                               ­                                             𝐻𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟.
                               𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒.
                                                        ­                                    𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑔𝑜.
                                                             ­                         𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑤𝑒’𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑.
                                                        ­                       𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒.
                                                        ­                  𝐻𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛.
                                                            ­𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑠𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠.
                                                          ­                      𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒.
                                                      ­              𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑣𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.

𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞—𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲—
𝐀𝐬 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮—
𝐓𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐲—
𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞.

Cradle me in those loving arms
Attached to such gentle hands
With such fateful grace
Hold my head close
To that half-loving heart.

                                                𝐼𝑓 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦—
                                                        ­                𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑚𝑒—𝑠𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑙𝑦—
                                                         ­                 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠.
                                                           ­                               𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑓𝑠.
                                                        ­     𝐵𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑦.
                                                         ­                  𝐿𝑜𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑠.
                                                        ­                                   𝑆𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑙𝑦—𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔.
                                                   𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑦 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑠.
                                                       ­     𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑦.

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐩—𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲—𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧.
𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.
𝐓𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬—
𝐀𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐤—
𝐈𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞—𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞.
𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫—
𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞—𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫—
𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐮𝐠𝐥𝐲.
𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞.
𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬—𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐞.
𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧.

I am so feeble beneath your counterfeit love
So weak
That even your tender caress—strips me of breath
Strip me fully
Until I am—nothing more
Let me be—breathless—in your hold
For it is this breath—that brings me pain
It is this life—that burdens me
Torments me
Brainwashes me—into loving you less
Fools me—into loving other things—instead.

                                                ­                               𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠—
                                                          ­           𝑊𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑎𝑡.
                                                         ­                    𝑆𝑜 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑦—𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝑚𝑒.
                                                             ­          𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑒.
                                                          ­                             𝐾𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑚𝑒—𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑙𝑦.
                                                     ­           𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠—𝑜𝑓 𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛.
             𝐺𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝐼 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟—𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑦𝑎𝑙.


𝐍𝐨—𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞.
𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐈—𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐞—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭—𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞—
𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬.
𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬.
𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐲.
𝐔𝐠𝐥𝐲.
𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐤.
𝐔𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥.


**** me—kindly.
Please.
Save me—sweetly.
By teaching me—the art of dying.
With every soft hesitant word—
Cheap enough—for me to afford—
Smother me—in the silence—
Where my torment—can finally—vanish.

                                        𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ—𝑖𝑠­ 𝑛𝑜 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑚.
                               𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑜𝑚—𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒.
                                        𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑓 𝐼 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒—
                             will you—
                                                            ­     oh so sweetly—
                                  save me—
                                                             ­               by
                                                 killing me—
                                                     kindly?

It seems as though I live my life
Downstage right and closest to the footlights.
I need the warmth of those glowing bulbs
To thaw a sometimes frozen heart.

I’ve learned my lines and know the scenes
But the blocking still confuses me
And I’m not sure which way I turn
To delver my soliloquy.

I know this drama has four acts
But this is intermission
And I’m waiting for the lights to dim
And call the audience back inside
To watch until the final curtain.
     ljm