Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing


The leaves are threatening to fall again,

dreich days replace the summer haze that I barely noticed until it was all I needed,

and then, suddenly, the sun was nowhere to be seen,

and the leaves leapt from the trees.

This does not bode well.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Movie Star

You said that loving me was hard to do,

because you never had a clue what was real and what was just another reel of my endless Hollywood saga.

If I was to tell you the truth,

I’d say that I wasn’t sure either.

The lights are flickering as you find me,

somewhere in the valleys of my violence,

silently sewing myself back together for another take.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

I Want To Be Saved

When he comes for me,
I’ll smile as my soul is snatched,
because I heard once that there was more to life than dying,
but I never really believed it.

I spent a long time last night,
asking myself if it would hurt to finally be torn from this life,
but my body is bruised,
my heart, hurt in so many ways,
so maybe it doesn’t matter.
Maybe just one more test before I taste life without longing for relief is worth it?

Will it really be life?
Has this muddling, puddle of regret and remorse been life?
How will I know who I am and where I’ve been,
if I don’t look at it from above, before

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Old Scratch and The Fatherless Fawn

Fatherless fawn,
meeting Old Scratch at dawn,
his mark etched down her back,
his voice, vibrating in the earth, disturbing and disrupting the plants and the worms.

She was a difficult child,
daughter of lies,
lost under the lights,
an angel that never had the chance to fall,
fated to stay, stuck on the ground where she was born.

She was watched, like the sweetheart of a soap opera.
Morning star pouring over all her labours and her dramas,
ever since birth,
when he gleefully watched the girl being torn from her unconscious mother,
he loved her like she was of his rib.

Can a beast find his way into the heart of a babe?
He has fallen to many places,
but longs to land in her good graces,
not as a lover,
but a mentor,
for he spies the seeds of darkness in her soul.

Once upon a time,
the world saw her as pure,
but he knew he could count on life to let her lose her sparkle,
so he waited,
until she found prayer pretentious,
and would welcome his winged shadow on her chamber wall.

Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

Doing DIY

I am busy, building,
burrowing down and finding my bearings,
bricks on bricks,
one breath after the other,
one step, and then another,
because I have so much to do,
and I don’t have the luxury of letting myself fail.

I am constructing,
while distracting myself from the volcano that erupts around my shoulders.
Reconstructing my confidence,
grasping at the presence of hope,
keeping it in a jar on my kitchen shelf,
until it glitters and shines like a firefly.
I am building a home for two,
occupying as one,
until I am done with who I used to be,
and ready to stand alone, by someone’s side.