Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Personal, Writing

Sunflowers

Flower crowns,

in a forgotten field,

sunflowers that towers over summer skies,

busted iPhone sings Magic Potion,

and the body electric.

These are the magical times,

sunny sweetheart,

when we are electric,

sparking and sparkling,

infatuated illuminations,

on August afternoons,

high on sugar,

sweet on each other,

my eyes on your shirt,

that rests on one shoulder,

with my hands on the timber of your chest.

Your voice echoes,

out in the open.

You kiss “Hey girl,

you’re my girl” on my lips,

and I am speechless,

and starved.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

You Are Not Ted Hughes

You stained me,

with stories about saving me,

borrowing every line for your bestseller,

from the letters of my life,

and I tried to be grateful,

that I was of such interest,

to a cloud of Charlie Brooker books,

that had suddenly seen me,

for the very first time,

but I had to decline,

dropping a single kiss,

on your coarse curls,

before leaving you,

and your messy kitchen.


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Sad Girl’s Love Song
Drowning In Us
What Ever Happened To Baby Jen?

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