we haven’t met
but in dreams
you have tamed my crashing waves
and ride them
as they are kissed by the sun.

in reality
it is just as likely that your storm makes mine look feeble
that your destruction is endless
that as you gaze into the water you are met
with a face scorched with scales
that stares you down
with empty eyes.

but though you terrify me
i know that the only thing keeping my feet forward
is knowing i am one step closer
to you
even if you are a monster
even if you are nothing at all.

and though i don’t know you
i know if you could you would reach out to me
from your world to mine
pull me against the current
to join you
for better or for worse
away from the derelict
we left behind

A poet is no job for one
Filled with the tension of
Regularity
Who can't leave open spaces
Unfilled
And who never knows where to st-

Terrorised
From dream to dream
The lines
Blurred
By familiar faces
Darkness with teeth
Horror
Liquified
My body
Drenched
My mind
Runs
My feet
Follow
Can’t run
Or hide
What’s at
The core
The scream is heard
Before I make it

Somewhere, this is nothing.
What is time but a never-ending string of moments that slipped away
Cold
In my hands
Soft
Through my fingers
Each day, gone
Before I knew it was mine.

Somewhere, I am nothing.
Is it comfort? Is it fear?
To lock eyes with a familiar face and know
She’ll disappear
Join the others
Lining up
To march away
Follow the light to God
Knows where.

Somewhere, we are nothing.
How obscure:
The Earth that birthed us, fed us
Breathed life into our lungs
Will consume us
With no mercy
Use our empty parts to make the flowers grow.

And somehow, we continue-
Like children playing on a train track, we wander
Through the darkness
By the calling
Of the light

Empty and grey
A waiting room
Haven for those
Too tired to rise
And blind to what
Would make them
Glow
From inside out
My dear old Home

Stars concealed
By jealous clouds
I heard
Their call
You pulled
Me down
To my hands
Warmed
By a tiny flame
Disguised
As an excuse
To stay

Time to time
You let me see
Light
Fugitive
From the cracks
Of what was
What would be
If
I didn’t go
But that’s in the past
My dear old Home

It begins with an urge. A roaring fire in the pit of the stomach
That burns the butterflies to a crisp and
Emits a glow through the skin.
The outer body, once frail
And worn from disguise
Relaxes. Like clockwork
The head is lifted
The shoulders
Pulled back
The face
Is freed
From smiling
Fake smiling, to
Please the observers.
The fire spreads, doesn’t burn
The flesh but releases energy, acceptance, she becomes undone

you were right when you said we were filled with deceit
i remember
your face consumed by fire
every pore filled with hatred and lust
well we know a thing or two about being burnt
used or dismissed at best
soon you learn to paint a smile over your scowl
hide the fire in your eyes behind a twinkle
no choice
once you ache
from dragging your body uphill by your nails
chased by pitchforks stained with blood of your sisters
but no one suspects the soft hair
soft smile
soft
soft
soft
never dreamt of your skin scaly under your sleeve
pondweed hanging from your lungs like dresses
in the closet of the girl
told cross your legs be polite he only teases *** he likes you boys will be boys he has been through a lot it will never happen
again and
again and
again and
again take matters into your own hands before blood is spilt
your survival relies on your disgust smelling like flowers
your screams sounding like songs
do not talk to us about deceit until it takes the shape of a knife