Friday, October 5, 2018


It’s like a creeper
This unhappiness
A creeper that grows overnight
Like Jack's beanstalk
It grew roots
And spread its branches
Inside me
An unhappiness
That is now just a tangle of branches
Growing and growing
When will it end?

Sunday, September 16, 2018

A little while longer

You were supposed to be here
For a little while longer at least
Until I figured some stuff out
You were supposed to be here

Friday, September 7, 2018


I’m craving an intimacy I’ve never known
I yearn for a shoulder to rest my head against
A hand to brush against mine
Someone to just be with
And be in love with
I miss an intimacy I’ve never known
One I may never know

Friday, August 10, 2018

A boy I used to know

You've become
That boy I used to know

Who would have thought back then
That you would be reduced to that

A boy I used to know 

Tuesday, August 7, 2018


What I liked the most about you
Was that I didn't have to pretend
You let me be exactly what I was
You never laughed at my insecurities
Or fears, as absurd as they may have seemed
You never grew tired of listening to me
Rant about one thing or the other
You were there for me
At eight in the morning
Eleven in the night
Time didn't matter at all

What I miss the most about you
Is how you would pause before you spoke
Those few seconds of silence
Between everything that I said
And everything that you said
Said much more than the words
Either of us chose
I rarely finish sentences
And people always interrupt
There is no silence
That lets me say what I need to say
Lets you say what you need to say

What I hate the most about you
Is that you left.

Saturday, August 4, 2018


By love
I'm surrounded by love
And it pains me that
I cannot participate
In the game of loving
And being loved
That is going on around me

Wednesday, August 1, 2018


You smell of cigarettes
No surprise
Since you smoke all the time
I still remember the first time I saw you
A cigarette between those lips
I so wanted to kiss

And five years ago
If we'd met five years ago
I'd have been repulsed by you
You would have reminded me of death
And sickness
Those images of charred lungs
Cheeks with massive holes in them
Images in our science textbooks
On cigarette cartons
The health risks of smoking
You would have reminded me of them

But today
I don't care anymore
I'm no longer repulsed
So I take a deep breath
Inhale that smell of cigarettes
You carry around with you
I want to fill my insides with it

I want to walk up to you
Hold you
Kiss you with all I've got
But then leave
Because I can never love you
Not now


Because five years ago
My heart was yet to turn to stone
I was still capable of love
And I would have fallen head over heels
In love with you

Wednesday, July 4, 2018

The art of not writing

What I love to do:

If there's one thing I truly love doing
It's to write
The scratch of a pen against paper
Recharges my batteries
The clack clack clack
Of a typewriter, keyboard
They are the air I breathe in
I take out my notebook with a sense of pride
When people tell me they can't remember
When they last wrote something
Because to write is to create
Letters unique to me
A page filled with squiggles
To be found nowhere else

What I'm good at doing:

I have stories built up in my mind
Like skyscrapers displayed on construction sites
That are nothing more than empty land
With a worker's hut in a corner
When I can't sleep at night
I build these stories even higher
I know them from beginning to end
But I can't write them
They don't pour out of my fingers
Staining paper with ink
So I close my notebook
Hide it because I'm ashamed
Ashamed of its blank pages
Ashamed of the unused pen
Ashamed that I've mastered
The art of not writing

Tuesday, July 3, 2018


I want to reach out
But I don't know how
So I swallow my words
I choke on them

You think I don't care
Because I never ask
But can't you see
These words are stuck in my throat

I want to tell you
Everything you want to hear
But I can't move my lips
My mouth is so dry

You wait for me to speak
But your patience runs dry
So you walk away
And I choke to death

Sunday, June 24, 2018

Roses are red

As songs from before I was born
Play on the radio
Celebrating love
I find myself missing a boy
That isn't mine