March 12, 2019

There’s something intangible,
tasty, satisfying but just out of
London on a Spring morning, a scent of carnival and warm drinks in the park,
a melting pot of cultures and promises, somebody 
to be
an open minded identity that sits peaceful in the thrill of it al...

July 18, 2018

Sometimes the smell of Summer 
nights makes my heart hurt,
The expectation is too great to deliver
in full,
No matter the pleasure
there is still a lingering emptiness;
the knowledge of transient passions and fickle promises made hastily in the heat.
Do I fear an endle...

July 18, 2018

Sometimes I walk home and I beg the wind for a kind word,
For the tender touch of a lover to appear on the curb,
For my shadow not to loom so lonely before me.
Everyone’s windows seem more golden than mine,
And I wonder what it must feel like to be surrounded by bodies...

July 18, 2018

I always go home when I need to dream,
When I need reminding of how the pavement holds the footprints of my progress.
This light falls because I imagined the possibility of another life; away from here.

In my head this little town could be transformed into the world I c...

July 18, 2018

Oh the loneliness of Sunday, 

how it creeps up over the blankets and drowns out the sunrise. 

I used to have somewhere to go, a person to distract me from the bleakness of a Sunday without family, without home. 

Now there is nothing between me and the void, 

I walk around...

July 18, 2018

Hello old friend, 
You hold my past heartache, my previous joy.
I stomp up and down the hills knowing full well that I’ll never
get over you entirely.
You are my home I created for myself, no strings attached, now tied to my soul like a dead weight.
I love you but I ha...

July 18, 2018

I still can’t breathe sometimes.

It started when I was 8 and I saw a leaf fall from the sky:

So much beauty and so much death and so much ending all wrapped up at once.

Poignancy is my favourite word because what is a life without conflict? What is an existence without pa...

July 18, 2018

Being with you is like coming home

to find that the fire has singed the curtains and turned the carpet to ash.

What was warm is cold.

What was soft is hard.

What was tender is brittle.

It smells of death but it’s still ours

and I should like to curl up in the black and hold...

July 18, 2018

I looked for something more honest and real.

I searched and found lust unsatisfactory and success insufficient.

I ignored God and ran through the streets as I so desired, playing upon the merry stage of life like an empty fool, trying to feel.

I gathered friends in my han...

July 18, 2018

When the morning is like milk and the muggy grey creeps through the window,

your face is the smoothest its ever been.

Without the contours of the sun I see you as you are in my minds eye,

perfectly plain for manipulation.

In this blue morning glow I can make you suit my ne...

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