Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing


I am locked in a prison of someone else’s lies.
My tongue was always truthful,
painfully faithful to the bitter betrayal of reality,
always willing to do the hard work of being “hateful”.
They want to tear her out,
tarnish her and her wishes,
take her for their own,
make a toy of her,
but I will not allow her to be lost.

Posted in Writing, Blog, Creative Writing

Tidal Wave

What will I become?
Time is a tidal wave,
and I cannot swim.
Can I learn to live with this?
Adapt and grow,
adopt another mindset,
lifestyle and place on the planet?
What will I become?
Will I recognise my eyes when they are seen through another?
Are these questions that I really need to answer?

It’s fine.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Getting Out Of The Way

I was trapped in an unusual place, with unusual bedfellows,
a land of untrustworthy ghosts and unreliable storytellers,
wondering if you would see me,
or if you were still insistent on being introspective.

You took notes as your glasses wandered down the bridge of your nose,
your girlish smile,
the one that you’d been wearing for decades,
dancing across your face as my name pushed its way onto your phone screen.

Is it irresistible yet, my darling?
Am I a symptom, or the cause of this madness?
I hate it here,
and I hunger for home,
but I don’t know if you are ready to rescue me yet.

You answer the call,
stifling a laugh at my smart mouth,
and I ask, in my very best baby voice,
when will my loving Daddy rescue her Princess from this war zone?

You see, it’s been half an hour of holding myself to account,
trying the real world out,
and I’ve never been more fond of our fantasy.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

A Hundred Feet Tall

Towering above heaven,
a hundred feet tall.

You, the talk of the town,
a town with one resident,
lost child,
all alone,
except her treehouse voyeur,
always watching,
always whistling Tchaikovsky,
accompanied by thunder.

Never climbing down,
never walking,
just waiting,
baited breath and icy stare,
holding her dreams inside of your hands,
tightly, but with enough room for them to breathe.