A short piece about the sun, a new day and home

A rewritten piece inspired by the Medusa myth

Trigger warning: reference to death

it’s smart and sneaky with a sort of stealth undetectable to any human eyes or ears or touch it’ll cloak you in the most suffocating...

Today — her tears salt her morning coffee as the sunrise bruises her cheek [pink and ripe like guava] Today — her smile doesn’t say much...

It reminds me of salty waters and cabernet stained eyes But today I welcome the greying skies and its baptismal waters Reborn in the...

Your breath on my neck, Creating a kaleidoscope of goosebumps, Like the most beautiful love note, Written on skin.

You're a singer I’m a poet Let’s perform my ode to you With your voice and my tongue It’ll be my favourite kiss yet

I’ve been recently thinking of all the things I left unsaid, when my tongue was painfully twisted, as it tried to adapt to the concept of...

I was once your utmost admirer, The way you weaved words into the most spectacular of stories, always had me pleading for a sequel. And...

Dear Past Love, Reach in and syphon more of me, like I’m an endless well filled with the comforts to relieve your ailments. Make me...

Dear Past Love, Your life did not change for the better when I entered it. I was just an accessory, something that made you sparkle,...

Dear Past Love, Thank-you for teaching me, that love does not guarantee forever. Thank-you for teaching me, that sometimes, good things...

The waves in your eyes, Entice me with your stare. I can do nothing but watch the stormy waters fall and rise. The sight does not take my...

They’ve figured it out. The baby pink smiles, The sunflower dresses, And the the thinly rimmed glasses, Were just the masks I wore....

I write poems of love, About it being painful, fickle. But I love. I love the dimple that forms when my best friend laughs, The way my...

Loving you was pain, Not loving you was lonely. But maybe I needed the loneliness to really think, To remind myself, That I am amazing,...

The love of happily ever after, Of richly coloured roses, And thorns that prick fragile hands, Is the love that does not withstand the...

When I promised to be your canvas, I didn't expect the scars. No more are the light strokes of a brush, Or the light platter of paint....

Like a child, You pick at my scabs. An unhealed heart, Taking longer and longer to mend. For our love has ended, But you wish for it to...