I love books and books have always been a part of who I was. Years ago, when one of my friends was asked to describe me, in a game that a group of us were playing, he said "well...she's always doing something vaguely bookish." I was the stereotypical bookworm as a child, reading way past… Continue reading Why it’s so Hard to Read When You’re Experiencing Mental Health Problems
The inane prettiness of spring has passed Her constant chatter melted by the summer sun. Summer has then in turn burnt himself out The constant beating of light and heat fading... Autumn breezes into being, a soothing balm for weariness Reassuringly cloudy skies let you breathe in the sweet scent of time slowing down Her… Continue reading An Ode to Autumn
She gets into the tiny spaces She shouldn't really fit But somehow - be it will or way She fills up every bit The little crook under my arm The space under my back The slither in my armchair A whole she knows I lack Sometimes I forget she's there Warm love against my frame… Continue reading Tiny Spaces
(In Homage to Mr Marlowe) Run away with me and be my love And we will revel in the delight of each other's misery. Fall apart into my arms And let me stitch you up - one heartache at a time. In a thread of tears, the tapestry of your life Entangled in my fingers… Continue reading Run Away With Me and Be My Love
An amoral heart is presumed black as night, with sinewy, hot, wet arms that grab and crush the happiness out of everything. Wicked thoughts and evil desires being its motivation. But it is not like that An amoral heart is clear as crystal, hard as ice and inside there is nothing If you were to… Continue reading An Amoral Heart
Beware the gift bringer The honeyed words of the false lover They only want to penetrate your inner sanctum, Rape and pillage the fruits of your soul And feast on your flesh. And if you're very lucky - they'll do it in that order
I understand what they mean now when people say "pulled the rug out from under you". When it happened I couldn't seem to find anything solid to grab onto Or stand on I felt as though I would fall through the floor, through the centre of the earth. Fall all the way through to the… Continue reading When “It” Happens
(Who can guess where this comes from?) To drift away where the present melts Where I can't feel the massive welts That hurt me so - inside my heart And seem to be on every part Of me. Inside, outside - leaking through Isn't living enough to do? I'm swimming through my honeyed life But… Continue reading To Sleep…
Hope is not a thing with feathers It is a thing with scales That slips and slides through all your brain And never stops or fails And clearest - in the murky depths And cruel must be the brute That could squash this little fish That no one could pollute I've felt it in my… Continue reading To Hope (in homage to Emily Bishop)
I’ve been taught too long how to behave I’m tired of smiling Of having to bathe Too long I have pandered and pleased and relented I yearn for some pleasure – Yet! With this I’m indented: Smile and laugh in all the right places Say the right things Make the right faces Say "Good Morning"… Continue reading Indented
Sad is a man in a raincoat He is alone and holding no umbrella He has nowhere to go and no people to see He is lost and cold and wet. The rain keeps pelting down, soaking his skin But he does not care or has forgotten how His face has become his eyes Desperate… Continue reading Sad
I miss you I miss your smile and your face I miss your kisses and your whispers I miss your gentle stroking of my hair I miss you always wanting to be close to me I miss your voice and your slow, soft words I miss your love It’s gone now
Ideas For Your Optimist, Creative, Mindful & Productive Self
Life Hacks and Advice
struggling through one book at a time
Love Travel Meditate
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⛩️il tempio della cultura nerd⛩️
culture, current events, musings in which another world is possible!
Balancing Life With Caffeine & Mochas
Just writing some poems. No pics, no GIFs, no vids. Keeping it simple.
Raku pottery, vases, and gifts
A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
Where Logic and Feeling Unite
Thoughts about thoughts.
Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history
