Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

The Ghost That Haunts London City Airport

London city airport closed,

and I lived the past again.

I was waiting,

at the DLR station,

chasing a fantasy,

that you would arrive,

dreading my memory,

of your departure,

locking me back in your embrace,

peaceful silence,

in the rush of air traffic,

that transforms into foot traffic.

There was peaceful silence,

as you held me closer,

your fear leaking through your fingertips,

staining my coat,

with your regret,

our ancient love,

born again,

on an airport floor,

crawling and crashing,

around our legs,

as you held me,

in peaceful silence,

that did not exist,

as I stood at the DLR station,

remembering the dread of your departure,

every Friday night,

for what felt like forever.


knowing you would not return,

knowing you only thought of me,

when you craved red lingerie,

and redder lipgloss,

knowing I was a dealer,

too naive for the game.


ready to wait,

for a journey to end,

that had never started.

And now today,

twenty eight.

I do not wait,

and I haven’t seen the platform in years.

I haven’t watched the skies for you,

and I know I could find you,

if I wanted to,

because you came back,

but you couldn’t make it all the way,

and so,

I found a new place to haunt.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Self Isolation Saturdays

Sunlight has settled outside,

knocking on the glass,

gazing at me,

the queen of quarantines,

decorated in my Sunday best,

my nostalgia,

for the outside world,
that I never really liked that much,

until it was a path,

to the side of the one I love,

is a thorn in my side,

and a thorn in my forehead.

I rode a bike once,

into the back of a van,

rearranging my face,

and I miss the rushing wind,

against my broken nose.

I miss my husband’s hand in mine,

when I would sleep,

his fingers tightly holding mine,

keeping me on the earth.

I leave it,

now and again,

when I dream,

when I think.

I leave more often,

now I have nowhere else to go.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Confessions Of An Angsty Flyer

I am in the sky,

the past is a passenger with me,

as I listen to our phone call,

from last Friday,

where I lied,

letting you think that I didn’t write,

with tears in my eyes,

about you.

Blue eyes,

that I knew,

were blue,

that I love,

even when I am miles away,

that I dream of every night,

that I hope to never lose.

I am not bandaged in time,

this time.

I am flying,

feeling my heart skip,

each time I hear your voice,

knowing I would need more bandages,

if I didn’t have a piece of you,

to keep me on the path away from you.

We live in the same state of fear,

and I am panicked by your sighs.

We were fighting on Friday,

I was vague and unhelpful,

because I didn’t know how to tell you,

that I wanted to be in your arms,

but I feared being there,

in case things weren’t the same,

as they were before Friday,

and before every other day,

when I slip,

close to a cliff edge,


distant and dreary,

wondering if this is the time that I lose you.

I am listening to our phone call,

from last Friday.

I assume you didn’t know I kept them,

but they are close to my heart,

and essential to me staying sane,

when I cannot be close to you.

You asked me what was on my mind.

I acted like I was fine,

and I know it was annoying,

and I know I’m not supposed to say I’m annoying,

but I was wondering,

yet again,

when it would be the last time,

I will be your hunnybee.

If you’ll love me,

a day,

a week,

a lifetime longer.

I was wondering,

when I would lose you,

because I can’t believe you’re mine.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing


Staring as you sleep,

at home in your embrace,

as I watch your eyelashes,

still and resting.

Most mornings,

I am overwhelmed,


as I burrow under the covers,

clinging to your chest,

annoyance that you earned,

by appearing in my life,

and making me fall in love with you.

I hold onto you,

and my heart lives in my eyes,

when we are close,

languishing as liquid,

reaching out,

falling down my cheeks,

trying to be closer to the one she loves.