Being an empath
is both a blessing
and a curse

First place
gold medal shine
this moment is mine
smiling ear to ear
but then I see her,
Second place,
quickly wipes her face
her parents think
she’s a disgrace
Did I destroy her dream?
We’re always the villain
in someone’s scene.

Sometimes I hate to feel
every dream
I steal

Of all the things I never said,
I wish I’d told her
“I love you”
before he did.

Her eyes were
the most exquisite shade
of cerulean blue.
Her daughter’s are too—

I remember
the day she arrived,
the day you slipped away, too.

Lost on October third,
two thousand twenty-two...
Could you have stayed
if I’d told you?

Every day then—
and now—
I wish I’d gone
to see you.

The Hunger,
inescapable,
rumbled throughout
your celestial body.
Temptation whispered in your ear
of more—
Greed and Sin
beckoned you,
too close to the sun.
But you, in a haze,
blindly complied.

Against Him.

Your wings burnt
in the scorching heat.
I saw the tendrils of deceit
encapsulate you
as your wings grotesquely contorted.
Flecks of burning faith crumbled
to nothingness.

A wordless scream
left your lips.
Almost instantaneously,
you, writhing,
catapulted—
a freefall of fate—
until you hit
the gritty ash
of betrayal
below.

You betrayed Him,
and so you became
eternally ******,
scattered in the winds
of Hell,
my fallen angel.

Bright stage lights,
adrenaline rush,
ear-splitting screams
for my little rocker—
not so little now.

I see her on the big screen,
but I remember
when she cried—
stinging fingertips,
frustrated fretboard fights—
couldn’t get the chords quite right.

Then she learned her first riff,
played it on repeat
seven days a week.

I watched you
take down the posters in your room,
pack your amp in a beat-up case.
I stood in the driveway,
watched the cab pull away—
rain streaming down the windows,
deep breath, hands shaking.
You didn’t look back—
and I hope you never do.
You had bigger places to be.

A buzz,
and a roar—
the first chord rings out,
wild screams echo,
and I’m just one in the crowd.
You don’t see me anymore,
but through all the noise,
I was your first fan.

Frozen beauty
breathtakingly
preserved in his
running watercolour,
rough charcoal,
faded photograph film,
A beauty forevermore-
stilled yet alive.

Once he’d adored her,
‘daddy’s little girl’
he had said
while he swung her around
then she perched on his shoulders.
He’d tell everybody
about his angel.

Until she hit thirteen,
the devil she became.
His grip tightened,
knuckles now white
‘Just like your mother’
‘Don’t you dare talk back’
He’d taught her how to flinch

Shown her
the cost of silence.
and whilst
Mothers forgive,
Wives excuse,
daughters remember-
because he always remembered

He raised a daddy’s girl
who won’t bow now
a girl unfettered she became
whilst he, fettered by his past
mistook fear for power
but now that’s gone
and so is he

The most beautiful humans
struck by young fame
graced and haunted
by societies expectations.

Not too fat,
but not too skinny,
Not so flat
and always pretty.

Are they
mannequins in motion?
or people—
the industry doesn’t know

They throw
sticks and stones
turning them
to skin and bones

Their tears
could drown cities—
full of hunger
and pain—
but they stay silent.

Because they must.
“You must be seen,
and not heard.”
Just walk now,
and look pretty.

Goddesses bound by heels
bleeding behind blush ..
They are told to glow now
but one day they’ll burn