Sand in my belly button #poem

Stretching my toes onto cold wooden floor My fingers undo whatever i wore Poking at buttons i got from a store My belly deletes all of your wars Sand without beach carried within Sadness only hides in my grin Screams carried in wind cannot begin Without first hiding in my delicate skin

Other guys #poem

red and blue and yet and you andfind me something that won't leave thensick as dogs as slick as yourslose that smile and then my warswink of an eye blink and then crysink before you say goodbye your words pile high til they match my eyesyou go on and i'll meet other guys

Is sharing caring?

Sharing welcome information certainly is, and I hope not to sound too judgy here. If a thought can be a sin, surely we’re all sinners. and isn’t writing using repetitive hand movements to facilitate my thought process (at least here)? Why do I feel guilty for using conversation as a tool to organise my mind?... Continue Reading →

My lines lie

Dented and hollow, Blurry blasts of fresh air fresh from the tree My bones can breathe again My heart howls Drowsy and hot Rain rushes from suns and gushes in glee My tongue can taste again. My eyes hound you Quiet and still Webbing up thoughts and letting down peers My life can start again.

Hope for Helplessness

In my own journey of trauma recovery, I've discovered the heaviness of helplessness among victims of abuse. How does one get over the lingering feeling of not being able to do ANYTHING to stop what is happening right now? Research showed that a traumatised mind lives in a traumatised body that carries all our forgotten... Continue Reading →

Kill Your Darlings

Faulkner first said this about writing, then Ginsberg, then Stephen King. It’s one of my mantras, but why? Let’s forget about writing. Kill your darlings but kill your enemies too. Not literally, but the ones we carry in our hearts. Forgive them by yourself, and cut your own heart into a million pieces. I feel... Continue Reading →

I might be in the right train But sat in its opposite direction I get a tummy ache Overstep this boundary And you’ve missed your stop How dare you cross where i exhale When i’m drawing circles around you What if every breath is a failed attempt For an end not yet earned Where does... Continue Reading →

Coming away

I might be in the right train But sat in its opposite direction I get a tummy ache Overstep this boundary And you’ve missed your stop How dare you cross where i exhale When i’m drawing circles around you What if every breath is a failed attempt For an end not yet earned Where does... Continue Reading →

The rebellions uniform

not a bad place to lie down It is strange to see my city in uproar Suits replaced by woolen scarfs conscience marked on my very street Next to banks towers and hands Hills and mountains rise up now Shining my way back to my flat Burning through eyelids somehow Grabbing my bag and raising... Continue Reading →

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