I don’t know what to say, I’ve
Been wracking my brains searching
Desperately for the words only to find
An empty dictionary full of insults all
Defined under: Me. Why am I so hard on
Myself? Why is life so hard on itself? Why
Is life so hard on: Me. I can’t see, not properly,
Over horizon lines and drifting dreams are
Vapour in a cloudless sky, mom? What do clouds
Look like? Mom? Am I doing this right? Mom? Oh wait.


I’m alone,


At home a permanent piece of artwork, a statuesque
Child, something for visitors to marvel at and utter,
“Poor kid”. I own no rags and I own no riches, the middle
Ground is where I live except for my mind, I find myself
Wandering precariously across tight ropes navigating dope
Ratios into cereal mixtures and wine for lunch, all liquid and
Pills floating like balloons, one by one they pop and I drop,
Back down to where I was born, soon it will be over.


The doctor told me soon will never come.


I’m not dumb, I know what a prison sentence is but for
Once I’d like to miss a parole hearing and just fucking
Live, but these handcuffs are metal and it burns my skin,
All crisp and painful, all dark and din, people stopped
Visiting, there are no cups with my name, she tells me
I’m not to blame but I’ve caught reflections lying more
Than once, I just want to have some fucking fun, and
I’ve run score marks in these carpets from pacing up
And down. Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.
Will someone help me up. PLEASE



I don’t know what this is.
Clenched bliss in my fingertips
I have never heard your sing song
Voice, am I the one to make this choice,


The crossing of boundaries to this extent,
My lament has quietened since the first
Laugh, your curious bones stilled my hand
Though we cannot touch through words alone


I feel you with me, I’m not so alone, but I don’t
Know what this is, exciting, exhilarating, water
Brims and the scales are even, goodnight texts,
Good mornings breathed soundlessly through
Space and time, the beat is off, I feel I can fly




West Wing Romance

Shakespeare once said: All the worlds a
Stage, I’m riding waves but none of them
Denote musical notes and camera flashes,
Beaten around, angry and rash, there are

No silken curtains, only the curtains of the
Mast-severed in half- the gaping mess
Flapping in the current, hands burnt at the
Helm, costumes made from design and ship

Made from fabric, other worldly magic, where
Are your wise words now? No encore. No final
Bow. Only torn limbed sailors and feeding babes,
Fame the only cure to hunger, their names cast


To the skies and fall as meteors, metaphors,
We are dinosaurs, all brittle and bone, no home,
No hold on reality, lost at sea dancing with the
Whales and mammoths all look the same under
The stage light projection.

Children Don’t Belong in Graveyards

I’m clutching childhood in my
Hands, wrinkled and damp
From a flood of tears, all these
Years wrapped in silk and buried
four feet under the ground, a burial
mound and I hear pounding of compact
soil as the littler me pleads for air, its
not fair, she screams, my ears bleed,
I can’t see her anymore, she is dead.

Frenzied motion, flying earth, fingernails
Full of regret and dirt, I hold childhood in
my arms, She is pale faced and unaged
no lungs, no heart and I am to blame,
come back, I whisper, come back and play
but graveyards don’t allow children’s toys,
choirboys sing in the chapel nearby, I shouldn’t
be here, but no, no goodbyes, wake up, I plead,
wake up for me, claws like a vice. Suffocatingly.

Where I Went

I’ve been gone.

Searching for where I belong, I’ve
Been listening to new songs, trying to
Reinvent myself the way I see all of my
Friends, it never-ends, trends and personalities,
All the while asking, who decides this for me?
The ultimate question like the crash wave in the
Sea, it’s clear, like the ocean, but cold like the

I am.

I am the maker of my own destiny, but somewhere
Along the line my mother forgets to tell me so I cling
To constants and consonants, and soon poetry isn’t
Nearly enough. It tough, this life, every life, I’ve been
Researching strife and gun violence has come to the
Point where I am afraid, I am afraid to be me, all the
While reminded that this is the journey I took, bare feet
In the sand, abandoning this, abandoning lists of creativity
I vowed to complete, I feel bad.

And I’ve been gone.


It’s happening again. What they
Call relapse, relax and take a chill
Pill, I took the whole bottle and
Opiates slide down my blood stream
Like unwelcome guests in my home
Who leave wine stains on the carpets

And hijack bone marrow, sparrows
Pecking at my windows like pebbles
Knocking on my roof, these foundations
Sinking are all the proof that I need,
Proof, that it’s happening again, I would
Tell my friends but I yelled bloody murder

Too many times before, I make jokes about
Sleeping until three because I don’t know
What to do anymore and I didn’t think my
Heart would be physically sore from all
The beating, I’m reading Wikipedia because
Everything I’ve come to lean on is unreliable,

Survival is not a preservation instinct ingrained
In my being I’m seeing double and I’m pretty
Sure foam from the bath is spilling onto my
Floor, someone call the doctor, I can’t feel
My hands sliding across door handles, I
Can’t get a grip, get a grip. Just get a fucking

Grip, I slip and swings were fun when I was
Young but it’s out of control and I am done,
The only way off is to jump but everyone’s
Telling me don’t jump. Just show up. Screw
You. I’m still on the swings, feet grazing the

Ground the sound of sirens in the distance
It’s utter bliss and then nothingness. The
Chain snapped and I fell, I don’t know what
To tell you. That’s why they call it relapse.


Trigger Warning

Trigger warning: happiness
Trigger warning: happiness
Trigger warning: happiness
Cause when you’re depressed

You crave it, like you crave pills
And alcohol, anything to numb the
Pain. Anything at all. You saw warnings
Before movies when you were nine,

Never in the frame of mind to understand
What it really meant, you’d never heard
The lament of brokenness, broken vases
In the porch and flower petals, you love

Me, you love me not, and empty flower
Pots because petals didn’t mean a god damn
Thing. Addiction when you were younger was
To video games and chocolate, if simplicity

Was boxed you would be a millionaire and
Air wouldn’t seem so toxic and hard to breathe,
You’ve got to breathe, no matter the consistency,
Air smelled like grass when you were five, that

Was the year your dog died and your parents
Cut your jokes in half with bad news, you never
Liked the news-all the bold print and trigger
Warnings. Barbie dolls were made from plastic

And you laughed when someone in the playground
Told you people were plastic, you didn’t realise
They understood life so much better, back then
Knives were handled by adults, now you’re an

Adult and somehow you don’t quite feel qualified,
Everything you knew were lies and how can you
Be sure you won’t cut yourself just because people
Say you can handle it, but you can’t handle happiness.

So you drown yourself in opiates and the air turns
To jelly and noises are like waves and you are six
Again, play pretending you’re not dead. One day
You’ll be dead and there’ll be a funeral and you
Won’t hear what’s said but I’ll tell you.
Trigger Warning: