I spend, much of my time, these days
climbing, and building myself up
which is why, I refuse to fall, I suppose
in or out of love
It’s is a question, uninteresting
a mere cliched, concoction
of dried rose petals, stained lace;
an antique image, to replace
the self-indulgent pity,
of a table set for one
My letters now rearrange,
against our selfish, un-defined age,
though blunt, and graceless,
For all the times you’ve held my hand
I know, you have a strong grip, your spirit
never ceases to brighten, or radiate
warmth from your fingers, to mine
“I drink too much tea,” she said while making herself a mug. She lived in contradictions, she smiled in the face of irony and always added three heaped sugars.
“Stop, ” I said. ” You’ll become an instant diabetic.”
“I’m sure that’s not how it works.” She replied, the corner of her mouth inching upwards to create that dimple on her left cheek I loved. Continue reading Oyster
It eats at the back of your mind, making those loud chewing noises I detest so much.
Today I decided that I’m going to be braver. Not in the sense that I’m going to go skydiving, or rock climbing or learn parkour. I mean braver in that deep philosophical sense. I’m going to be myself, pure, unedited. I will embrace the fact that I am the human equivalent of a rushed draft that someone pulled together at the last minute, fuelled by caffeine and desperation. Continue reading Doubt
This morning, the sight of a blank page was promising.
Ideas came freely, open, into my brain and out of my pen seamlessly. I think I’m better at writing in the morning. More likely, I’m just less awake and therefore incapable of feeling any pressure to be good. A usually overactive mind at this stage has only a few concerns; keep eyes open, yawn, get coffee, write. Continue reading Morning 18/7/17