Read. Judge. Engage. Reflect.


People die
and the world does not stop
People die
and the world does not stop
Long enough for my heart to pause
and hold a beat,
A second more for a scream to float
and learn to breathe,
Allow time
for a tear to ponder its release,
Or a heart to ache with a little more ease

People die and the world does not stop,
Not even for a pause, or a halt,

But it should.




I think about soulmates
And I think about you
The explicable attraction
Between the rain and the dew

Paper Aeroplanes

And if I miss you,

I make paper aeroplanes

With the sand in my pocket,

And I fiddle coins

That spin on the tip of my tongue,

Waiting for time to rewind,

So I can see you



Over thinking

If I let myself think

I’m knee deep in thoughts of

Cats in awe, chasing balls,

How the balls represent

Their souls playful and free,

That which mine could never be.

And I’ll think of limes,

How lemons have a less colourful grind

Or perhaps, they’ve simply had more time

To sour,

And is it better to stand against white

Or shine alongside it?

I’ll move on to think of doves,

How when they die

We still remember their boastful beauty

Flapping ten thousand heights above,

But if an ant passes

We forget its strength, and if I fell

Would I be remembered

As the sky or the help?

If I let myself think, it doesn’t stop.

Spoken word: She is freedom in this madness

Today marks the 50 ways
I can be broken and remade,
Classified: destructive rain
pouring pellets on plain glass,
Ice give rise to breaks:Caution.
Statistically she is crazy,
Flowers bring daisy memories
Of her being happy,
It’s collateral damage that weeds
Can form chains around
Strong foundations,
Weakening base grounding
“She’s not grounded”
They say

What ties you down?

My pain marks
The fragile faith
That stains can be removed
With sounds of prayer,
But pain births
New ways of breathing,
Air rises and falls,
Pattering shattered ribcages
Accepting change.
So she preys on rain’s
Cleansing nature,
Addicted to the way it sounds
Against her false nails 
on the glass table

On the knees
Of my disbelief
At my characteristic tendancy
Towards choosing them over me.
Paper bags inflate
And they walk away,
And tumbleweed blows
Reminding my face
That cold air can sting
As much as God’s venomous grace.
How much does it cost
To save the blade
Which sharpens her? 
Cutting symbolism of paper weight
Knifing edges of glorified bait
That which hooks her
But taught her to steer
More carefully

She’s rigging doors,
unbolted down
“She’s out of her mind”
Is what the layman’s say,
About the types that
Take their time.

Today I am loud.
But soon
She will be quiet.


Even with the jewels

and dressmakers, dressing

vapours and incense,

laying opals in vain,

my Name was scribed on

the backs of priestesses

you lay before I. 

Spoken word: This Magical Girl

She’s broken, but

shes strong,

she’s open.

This golden girl

takes one step at a time,

Nothing can dim her light, 

Music may sway her, but her heart beats

for one melody,

The remedy to her tremors

is him.

When you scrape away,

each and every day

at her magnificence,

her magical sentience

starts to falter in your eyes,

You don’t love her,

You’re infatuated with the ideas

of her smile,

her glide, her stride, her flight

but unicorns dont ride on their own

they need their soul string and

you’re not him,

For her.


You chased, so

Eventually she’ll fold

because waiting gets old

and she’s praying for you,

hoping you’ll grow

to fit her soul and wrap it

With love and heart taps,

Beat in rhapsody of

epic proportions perhaps.

But you’re settling, 

Causing her mind to swim,

Confusions sets

As she struggles in

“whats wrong with me?”

The catastrohpic feeling that

red roses turn brown

After they’ve bloomed

So maybe she should just

accept the truth

That life’s gift to her is just

3 little inches of you.

Always falling short

of the dreams she had. 

— she’s only 22.
You know this, but,

let her go,

Let her find her soul,

Your owed magical girl

will come riding through

Soon, so





Quote 3.

She made broken look beautiful and strong look invincible. She walked with the universe on her shoulders and made it look like a pair of wings.”

– Ariana Dancu 

The sun and the moon 

I am tired of a thousand moons
Dictating how to live my life,
I am tired of wasting time
On tides wanting a good ride.

I am tired of the cries
I silently scream at night
When the tequila shots
Don’t go down right.

I want that love the Queens bathed in,
The love men adorned their bodies with,
The kisses on their stomachs
Which lay offspring in.

There are summers
I sing of sands and bones,
I forgot there are permanent homes
Where the sun always shines.

I want that love

The one that blows my mind


Phone call from the womb 

Calling to the ones we’ve lost 

And the ones we’ve let get away, 

Tears don’t make us  feel the same 

As the faith

We couldn’t have loved you 

In the right way, had we met you today.