I wanted to do you in the alley.

I’m wearing his shirt.

There’s nothing but me underneath it.

Skin so alive.

He’s below me.

He’s inside me.

He’s god damn everything.


From lips that melt me

In all ways.

I like what’s going on beneath the shirt

Beneath these sheets

Beneath alcohol.

Bite me

Anywhere you want.

I wanna taste you

In every way.

Maybe I do light up

But I’d like no thunder

Unless it’s hard and loud

And so awake.

I’ll still be dancing through storms

With the boy who called me home

And made me feel sexy and cute and wanted.


Push me.

Tell me about how bad your day was.

Sympathy can be given in all kinds of ways.

Leave teeth prints on necks that are red and blue and purple

And pressing into everything I am

For days after.

Your imprint

And hands slipping under tops.

Slide up,


Use your teeth.

I wanna try everything with you.

Can you blame me for being distracted?

My heart

And the skin above it

Wants the ‘ever’

Mentioned at early hours this morning.

Wants to do you.

Wants to be with you.



You gave me the sky for my birthday. Here’s the next day.

On the second day we kissed

The sky split open.

I’d spent the day smiling,

Drunk on the night before

With that word on the ground

And the guy with his trousers down.

I didn’t expect us to meet

But on that bench by the river

I knew this was for real.

It poured on us,

My dress wet,

Your hair,

Long at the time,


I bought you a drink.

I wonder how much you remember.

I remember warm kisses

And you

And us

And that day

When the sky guzzled

It’s content upon us

Then those comfy seats

With your hand on my knee.

It rained.

Last night

you tasted of churros.

We agreed on cinnamon.

Funny that,




just for a while.

That’s your superpower.

I’m better not just cause I wanna be.

I’m better because you helped.

I’m better now.

So much.

And when we sat

with that looming German

it wasn’t just rain in the air,

it was the taste of


Harsh words and teary eyes

that was me before.

Sometimes it happens again,

we need to work


but I’m not passing those fleeting moments

for a chance of more than fleeting

with us.

So, let’s kiss on escalators.

and keep drawers

and hang onto this.


The Last Time I Drank…

Here are my mind mumbles.

This is from late August.

Okay, I’ll be honest.

This is a new kind of hazy.

I got high without the drugs,

The help.

I’m high on us.

On last night

  • and all the nights before –

I want to keep drinking it in.

Though, perhaps not,

actually drinking now

because it’s all a little blurry.

There’s me and you

and us and them

and all of us in

dim lighting and round stools.

It’s a snapshot

coloured in a

certain shade

of happy.

And while I almost

can’t feel anything

I know

I have all these special ones for you.


Sometimes, you’re hard to grapple,

lights flicker, nobody home, candle’s thrill

on this side of dark. It’s taken

this long but I dove

into this version of lonely

in a world where you won’t initiate.


Words aren’t in the language we initiate

and it’s worse at night where I grapple

with silence. Lonely

was face-planting. Thrill

has died – dove

into the abyss. Taken


by the concept of being taken,

those unexpected moments of closeness. Initiate

my heart. Aim straight for the target. He dove

into the outer skirts. Crash landed. Clumsy. Clothes grapple

and I want it, I do but the thrill

isn’t there. Crashed. Burned. Lonely


in the same space. Lonely

with the concept of us. Taken

for a consolation prize. No. I win. Thrill

the desire, the want to initiate

fighting, fingers unbuttoning, grapple

with the afterthought before I dropped. Dove


into stopping it. We dove

and no longer fought. Lonely?

We let it happen. Grapple

for others instead. Ghosts taken,

she’s no longer there. You initiate

with the only remaining thrill.


The new found, old kind of thrill,

I wait for him. He, instead, dove

into someone else. Lost in their own form of initiate

position insert. Left me lonely

with my heavy thoughts. They used to be consumed, taken

by only you, but I grapple


for the lost us, the thrill of a grapple

gone. The form of initiate now lonely.

He dove from me, my love was taken…


For me.

First of all,

It’s perfectly okay to not be okay.

It’s okay to not want to get out of bed.

It’s not okay to believe you can’t.

I felt like that this morning.

The last time I cried this morning.

There was no reason.

Not really.

There’s rational not-okay

and there’s mentality not-okay.

It hits hard,

like that first strike of thunder

destroying the afternoon rainbow.

It targets when you least expect,

smack bang in the middle of a pool game,

during dinner,

in the middle of a shift.

It’s the demon reclaiming that right spot on my shoulder.

The one the good voices reigned.

My remedy…

It’s okay to eat bad foods.

It’s not okay if you haven’t eaten anything sufficient in days.

And I know you want that bag of potatoes…

You really do…

But why not try them not fried, not baked, not…

Health both inside and out.


I am.

Those sunshine moments,

I’m drowning in memories

I never considered I’d have,

they’re worth this so much.

I watched myself on CCTV last weekend…

I didn’t like what I saw.

She wasn’t me.

It’s okay to not like yourself.

It’s not okay to let that consume who you are.

How can you expect someone to see you if you don’t see yourself?

I think I know who I am.

Seeing myself,

I don’t know.

It’s late at night and I’ve been

fighting with what to say for a while.

I am happy.

That’s not a statement trying to convince myself.

I know I am,

it’s in this battle

where bad days do come,

but guess what,

they do go.


It’s okay to have setbacks of a sort.

It is not okay to let them consume you.

I’m really trying.

Give me that

until I tame them.

This is me signing off for now.

Go find another storm.


Forgot I said I’d post on Fridays…


Technically, here it’s Saturday

but somewhere

some place

it’s still Friday.

Today was different.

Not the same different as it was the day we met…

Just different.

I forced myself to go out…

I’m glad I did.

Though a tad awkward and short

I saw someone

who although often feels like they’re not,

they’re my real flesh and blood.

They’re family

and for that period earlier

it was just nice.

I don’t think I’ve felt that for these

relatives for so long.

I’m not sure if that’s my fault

or the voices of my respective parent

and growing up in a home

where you’ve always been told we stick out.

Anyway, was pleasant.

Then I saw you.

Sexy bartender.

But not really.

You don’t need the bar,

and you’re more cute than sexy

but I guess, so am I.

We had a few hours together

and you built my new bike for me.

My legs already ache,

in particular upper legs

and I’ve already fallen off once

splat on the pavement


thank you.

I love it,

you more

but it’s a close second.


Then I saw that video

before we met.

Your hair was different.

Your clothes the same.

That first date waist coat.

It’s fucking adorable.

You’re adorable,

even if you weren’t ‘yourself,’

and I already can’t wait to see you tomorrow.