“Throw her into the deep end,”
they said.
“She’ll learn to swim soon enough.”

Maybe she will,
but you know,
it won’t be easy
the tides will grasp her firm
and try to drag her under
her lungs will scream
she may wail
and desperately thrash
the tumultuous current will beat her down
her arms ache, so does her heart
she’ll sink once or twice,
wonder whether it’s worth the fight,
but with time
and I can’t say how much
she will gain strength
and slowly but surely
she will begin to swim against the current
claw her way back
to the shallow end
and she’ll be able
to look them all in the eye
scars bare, clothes torn
but a wicked smile.

Fingers stained blue
from your favourite
fountain pen,
a smudge
on your arm
encircled by gold bangles
that clink,
like an introduction:
clink
clink
‘she’s here.’

Dark wisps hide,
your watercolour eyes
darkened by kohl,
wrinkled with your
crooked sunrise smile,
soon it becomes a laugh
that sounds like
summer—
all cartwheels across fresh grass,
sticky lollipop smiles,
a wrinkled shirt
creased with time.
Even effortless
looks beautiful
on you.

I love
every ink stain
and clink,
every wandering comment,
and every laugh
that’s a bit too loud—
you couldn’t even
begin to fathom
all the love I hold
for you.

Is to observe the world
in all its intricate detail
To hear all the
unspoken words
To be a watcher at every moment
but never to be watched

From all the dark corners
where the whispers reach
is a fly, soundless, immobile
seeing all
yet seen by none

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.