Watching the world through the eyes of strangers, a cold coffee in my left hand, my right stretches out. Grappling for their dreams, that like smoke on a breeze drift through my fingers, leaving a far-off burning smell to linger and soot to clean. I prefer coffee shops to galleries; I find the best art … Continue reading People Watching Again
Blurring through days in the carriages of sleepless dreamers, Sitting in the backseat of a burning star, me and her, Looking out into the mists. I once wished - that I could fly, Now I’m drifting, on the ripples of old explosions I didn’t realise that I had missed- my chance to make a wave. … Continue reading untitled poem
AN - What follows is an excerpt from a short story I am working on, this piece was inspired by the song Kyiv by Oksar Schuster. I felt like all the air, every spark of vivacity that lit up everyone around me, was depleted in me. My bulbs had blown, and I left in … Continue reading An experimental excerpt – Moths
Terrified of being left, But now I'm leaving you God, I miss you already Will you still visit? Don't leave Please.
Unanswered questions and unspoken words, Out future exists in more than one world Buts it's terrifying Forever, or just for now But I love you - although I didn't know how, to Before I met you I didn't make plans, Now I've made dreams, what ifs, what could be Please don't let me down - … Continue reading My Fears
Sunrise glimpses through train carriage windows, Time to breathe, The green here's plastic No smoking Let's do something drastic Don't be stressed - take it easy And take me away From here.
Withering colors, in carbonated yellows Rusted green and foaming white, Bubbling leftovers of humanistic pursuit. Rotten corpses of artistic benevolence lining the streets. The scrunched up flesh of unfinished stories, Discarded as fear that their imperfect toxicity might scar a pure white page, Just a bag of waste. Wasted potential Wasted time Waste
My fingers are aching from watching the busied hands of a clock – I just don’t know if I can keep up anymore. I stretch out my cracking palms, bruised and bloodied. I only fought myself- but does that mean I won? The keyboard is broken. I thought that if I just pressed on … Continue reading
Run away with me, Blue skies, green eyes, Think I, might need a change of scene, What I mean, is that summer’s fading Life’s a haze and, I miss the sun Please come and chase a dream With me.
Watching the world turn through a series of paint-marker windows, Of barely square houses, not homes, Drawn poorly and hung on the fridges of week-to-week mothers, With cashed checks strewn on the street, and fathers, all fucking deadbeat, Why do they always pack up and leave? Moments, passing in front of me. Houses all full … Continue reading Summer Day Sadnesses