another day –
and I’m counting still.

how many more of these,
do I need?

each scratch on the walls
of my soul,
a testimony of 
this prison build
through my

and only
comes freedom
when letting go



I’m a runner
not like “The Flash”
I mean,
I retreat –
more often than not

guess I am cautious that way

When the density gets so much,
you know,
that breathing becomes labour
and I swallow syrup of air
I drop my eyes at first
by now, words have left me
in utter horrifying silence

guess I am shy that way

For high is the cost
of letting go
to be not your own, terrifies
and I cannot imagine
such a thing

If for a lifetime you have walked
a path of your own
If for a lifetime you have waited
the idea
the thought
of someone else beside you
is not just a wish, a dream
its more

and sometimes
it becomes



Been sitting on this line for quite some time
pondering what ifs, what nots and what I haven’t gots
Delve deep, before you climb mountains steep
slumber, sleep, do not awake this deed
In lingering longer than you need,
desires, dreams, hopes, fears are being fed
Only what you nurture and groom,
will persist, perservere, reach out from the gloom
Those monsters that you barely whisper of
these giants, mountains, rivers, other things
every fear, failure, forsaken (forgotten) memories
That still clinging onto, hoping for, never letting go[1]

[1]yet you wish for freedom –
“you dream of running wild
on fields of gold
with heart so bold),
where nothing ever trips your stride
where being nothing more than you is fine
where every inch of ‘imperfection’ they perceive
is the perfection,
you thought you never could achieve”

just breathe

If need be, on this line I’ll wait for you
feet hanging, swinging, rhythmically,
but I can only paint these pictures with my words
I can only tell of how I found my worth,
my words will flutter, patter, hammer forcefully
my hearts desire not always there to see –

I wish for you to someday, one day, soon day, follow me
and maybe through my actions you could see
that even when in prison, I am free


I’m crumpled – 

these creases
a roadmap leading back
to days and days
if you fold me
the right way
I’m certain
I could become
a crane

In reply to an unfinished letter

thanks for not
sending me
those words you promised me

I didn’t wait
by the postbox
my inbox
or tv
I didn’t check
my facebook
or tweets
I didn’t mark
my calender
to countdown
the days
I didn’t think
you’d forget me
this way

So in reply to this letter
that’s yet to be made
this is what I have to say

If you promise
to come by today
don’t expect me
still tomorrow to wait


the rain clouds come in the morning
as wisps of weary weaves her mask
of course it brings water showers with
and a washing is inevitable
the name is not always the meaning
as it hides in crevices of the forgotten
but rediscovery is a must
and the lady knows it well

the lady knows it best

what is words then today when used up prior
could they be refurbished, repurposed?

the thunder comes with the clouds, maybe
as she lays brick upon brick ( upon brick )
it might bring showers of water with
and a washing is much needed
the meaning will always be in the name
as it gives sense to the majority of all
but it must be claimed
and the lady knows it well

the lady knows it best
as she rebuilds her fortress
every word a brick laid
layer upon layer

the rain clouds come in the morning
but tonight she will name this place


love never comes

she’s in love, the lady, smitten is she
everywhere she goes, the lady, she smiles
she floats through the world
invisible cloud
the lady, she’s high
she’s in love, the lady, so is he
everywhere they go, the lady, she smiles
she boasts of their love
so very very proud
the lady, she’s happy
she’s in love, the lady, so is he

she’s alone, the person, that is me
everywhere she goes, her footsteps they echo
she floats through the world
invisible ghost
this person, she sighs
she’s alone, this person, there’s no he
everywhere she goes, her footsteps they echo
she carries her independence
like a shield
this person, she’s alone
she battles on her own

she’s in love, the lady
the lady, never me

to the stranger that inspires me so


I know you only through your words
bold and independent they march through my mind
like perfume they cling to me for days on end
and I ponder your wisdom,
the verses you release into the world

I know you only through the scratchings of your pen
and imagine you pouring your frustrations onto paper
I follow the traces of your mind faithfully
and your pain becomes mine,
these snippets you let me see

I know you only through your words
but in my mind they come alive
and I see life as you do

I know you
through the media
you choose
to communicate
but you know
just how to relate

you should not know me at all
but you speak to me
and somehow this
has become personal