Posted in Blog


How do you survive,

dear dandelion?


trapped in the grim and gray pavement,

making your own way,

towards the sun,


unapologetic and present,

cursed to be alone,


but always alive.

Alone in the city,

seeing all the world has to offer,

but never tempted to stray,

from the light of the sky.

I could learn so much from you.

Posted in Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

I’ve Been To The Doctor, and Ignored Everything He Said


It was you. 


who never left,

leaking emotions by my side,

burrowing inside me,

breaking me until I have no choice but submission.


who never left,

latching on,

lashing out,

leaking emotion,

in a confusing cycle,

until everyone else leaves,

and it’s just you and me.



You ask me,

with those damn eyes,

in an aching whisper,

why we always end up together,

just you and me.

It was you,

my only companion,

my only constant,

one of my many curses,

born perhaps,

maybe invented,

but boring me to tears,

with the same old song,

you always insist I sing,

the same old life,

you always let me lead.

Familiar mistakes,

that seem different for a second,

until I realise we have been repeating,

and repeating,

and repeating,

long enough to be labelled mad.

I don’t want you,

but you’re always here,

loving too much,

leaking emotion,

planning grand things,

before we even start the small stuff,

collecting husbands and wives,

but never quite securing the ring,

throwing yourself at the mercy of anyone with a kind smile,

because you won’t see that you’re capable

(or could be, if you gave in, and went to therapy).

You love too much,

because that’s the only currency you can manage efficiently,

spending for protection,

your eyelashes fluttering so much,

that all the things you fear about the world,

become a blur,

and you fall into someone else,

a princess,

a pet,

but never powerful,

because you can’t conceive it,

you won’t believe that you can survive,

all by yourself,

so off we go,

to be some narcissist’s project,

until they realise how much hard work you are,

but it’s too late, my love,

because you’ve already given too much,

and now,

you belong to them forever.

You love too much,

and they can’t get enough. 

Addicted to your intensity,

(some would call it insanity).

Being adored,

depended on,

is sweet for a while,

but then it’s demanding,


and then,

it disappears,

and you are crying in a cavern of spilled milk,

crying because you think it might make them stay,

crying because your own company is the only kind you can’t stand,

crying because you’d give anything to be less helpless.

You’d give anything to be less helpless,

less dependent,

less bother.


Posted in Blog


Dare I ask for kindness,

of you, after all this time?


There is weakness in that, I’m sure.

Complete, for now,

obviously still bruised,

momentarily musing that I’ve made things up to myself,

easing back into breathing on my own.

Banishing you,
and yet, still being haunted when I sleep.

Could I ask you to let me die in peace?

Kindness was always beyond you.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Diverse Verse on Alphabet Radio

Hola amigos,

A brand new episode of Diverse Verse  will be airing live on Alphabet Radio, this afternoon, at 4PM BST, and I’m really excited for you to hear it.


This episode features work from Leika Moly, Pondering Thoughts and Anthradevi Cirimulla, covering topics such as sexuality, catcalling, losing love, and sexual awakenings.

You can listen live, from 4PM, here

You can listen on demand, after the show airs, here

Posted in Blog


Dark, devious streets,

pavements covered in leaves,

eyes closed,

mouths mumbling,

but never mentioning everything they’ve seen.

They saw you take me.

Nobody else,

but nature noticed,

as your hand held my screams inside my lips,

locking my protests,

my body,

in the back seat of your car.

a soft kiss,

on the lace of my hemline,

just above my knee,

before you stare,

invasive and eager.

Then you are gone,

we are going to a location,

a mystery that may never be revealed.

You drive,

as I count your nervous breathes,

losing count and laying behind you,

in silence.

Every now and then,

your shaking hands relocate,

from navigation,

to seduction,

snaking up my bare legs,

sending a clear message,

about what you intend,

ending all misunderstanding,

when you park,

pulling me from the car,

into your arms.

Branches bend for a closer look,

grasping at you,

and the grip you refuse to relinquish,

but it is too late for the trees,

and the pavements won’t speak,

I disappear into your lair,

and nature stays awake all night,

listening for the familiar melody of my sleepy shoes.