Saturday, December 28, 2013

It’s not often

in this life that we get to meet people we connect with immediately, people who are so familiar it feels like they’ve been in our lives forever, even when they’ve only just walked in.

Maybe we are meant to meet them. Maybe we share a unique bond with them. Or maybe these people themselves are special, and everyone who meets them feels this way.

I don’t know shit about it, really, but I do know that when those people walk in, it’s fucking stupid to let them walk back out again.

Thursday, December 19, 2013

How I Feel

I feel that we were very close, for a while, that you let me in and showed me what was in your head and in your heart. That you were one of my most precious friends, and perhaps that you still are.

I feel like you've left that behind, like you don’t want to be so close to me anymore.

I don’t mean to assume or to imply this is how you feel; I recognise it may not be. I seek only to communicate how I feel, how your action—inaction—affects me. Is that selfish? Perhaps.

I feel there is little space for me in your life now, that I am relegated to the lower class of distant friends, or fonder acquaintances. I don’t write this as judgement. This is okay. But I am ever curious as to why…do you no longer need me as a friend? Is your life full enough without me, like a home in need of a good clean-out? Is the reason more sinister—did you fear I would fall for you? Or feel guilty that you would not fall for me?

There is no need for you to answer these questions. If you remember me at all, then you know I do not expect—nor want—you to explain yourself to me. Ever. I acknowledge I am asking about things that hide in a space I can no longer visit and never sought to occupy.

I wrote this to send to you. Instead, I post it here, where you can pretend it is not for you—I do not wish to trouble your mind, nor to burden you more than I already have.

I love you anyway, friend. And you can’t change this, for I do not choose who I love, only how.

Monday, December 02, 2013

You could tell me what's on your mind…

Or you could just go on ignoring me, limiting our conversations to one-liners, single words, empty sounds to fill the growing space between us. Sideways glances and averted eyes where once we saw eye-to-eye.

You could avoid me so you don’t have to think about it. So you don’t have to acknowledge that feeling I can’t interpret (and maybe you can’t, either, but at least I have a reason).

Maybe I’ll eventually get the hint; maybe I’ll accept you’ve departed, my friend—gone for good. After all, nothing proves the absence of love like the presence of dishonesty.

Or maybe I won’t assume. Maybe I’ll go on thinking the best of you, waiting patiently for you wreck me instead.

Thursday, October 24, 2013


That night, when everyone was gone, he looked at the knife on the kitchen bench. He looked at it long and hard, wanting to drive it through himself. He didn't know where, and it didn't seem to matter, as long as it hurt enough to cut away the pain that truly ailed him. He imagined that moment when it would pierce his flesh, anticipated the rush of blood, the moment of panic, the subsequent release. But, as always, he lacked the courage to try. So he lay down on the cold wooden floor instead, and cried. And then he wrote, because pain is the writer's ultimate elixir.

Friday, September 27, 2013


The problem with love in our culture, with the very word love, is that its meaning is not self-contained. It extends beyond the word, constructed by the relationship in which we speak it. So if I tell my mother, 'I love you,' it encompasses only familial love, though I love her as my best friend. And if I say 'I love you' to my best friend, it is that friendly kind of love, even though I love her as a sister, as my own flesh and blood that I would give her if she needed. And to my lover, 'I love you' means forever, happily ever after—even when I only mean tonight.

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Wish Away

If I could take away all those little wishes from the past,
and give back everything I ever asked for,
and all those things I didn't…

If that would give me this one thing I want more than anything else…

Ah—but why bother?

Tuesday, June 18, 2013


My beautiful bird,
if I set you free
then you must fly away.
Don't be tempted to land again—
rise up and be beautiful.
Shine in the sunlight
so I can let you go.

Monday, May 20, 2013

Hand (2004)

I held the sunlight in my hand,
A golden band upon my finger.
It lingers in forbidden places
And graces my palm with sweet designs.
The glowing lines entangled in flesh
To mesh with simple spirit and soul,
And make whole a beautiful heart
From parts in a mind so bright.

If we were to meet today
To play enlightened melodies,
The trees would shelter us from storms
And form a home, where we could be
So perfectly free. We two as one
Beneath the sun, upon the sand
To stand so tall and be so strong—
That song would be so sweet.

Calm (2004)

To love without question
And to feel with no regret
Is the sweetest taste of life.

It's been quiet today,
So quiet.
No thoughts have rushed in
To confuse me
And cloud what I know to be true.
The facts have rested,
Settled in,
And I have grown accustomed to their presence.
The pain is but a whisper,
Drowned out by the rapturous cries of life.

This is how it feels
To be free.

Believe (2004)

Some days,
Just a thought is enough –
A word is a promise,
A gift so true.

Some days,
Nothing can wash out the colour –
The day is a work of art
Painted by you.

Print me a page
Of memories and dreams,
And I will sing you the song
That lives in your heart.

Sunday, May 12, 2013


to think
I could walk
just get up and leave
this place

to dream
something lies beyond
just out of reach

to begin
a long journey
just one small step

to stay
to burn
to hate
to learn

to believe
it all began with you
but it ends with me

Not Love, Just Sick

Your flesh and my flesh would mingle so nicely…
It's an enticing thought, isn't it?
I like the taste of your name
As I roll it across my tongue.
Would your kiss taste so sweet?
I look at your hands that are rough like coarse sandpaper.
If you placed them on me tenderly
Would the abrasion leave me raw?
Would you file me down to what's soft beneath the surface?
A stinging, singing sensation
Like the buzz in my fingers
You can't see the mess swimming in my head,
Arising from your presence.
I sigh—you know why, so don't lie.
I feel that disdain that floats in on the breeze
To confuse that thread of hope
That persists despite all evidence
And insists this might be love…
But it's not love,
Just sick.

Thursday, May 02, 2013


she's a flame that's burning bright
that every night
you try to fight
to crush her down to ashes and coals

but she'll keep burning on and on
yeah she'll be alright

she's a flame that's spreading fast
let her past
she's made to last
here, then gone, she's moving on
you put her down but she's not out

no she'll keep burning on and on
yeah, she'll be alright

storms may blow in
seas may rise
her glowing embers spark alight
if rain and snow can't put her out
why'd you even try?
why'd you even try?

don't you know
she'll keep burning on and on
yeah, she'll be alright

Saturday, January 26, 2013


the gps unit mocks me, stubbornly
resisting my attempts to get sensible directions,
insisting my car is in a field—I’m on some road—
persisting with her instructions to make a u-turn

Note: I was working on the theory that a hyphenated word is treated as two words and the title is not included in the word count. But I could be wrong on that, in which case I apologise for wasting your time. Have a nice day.