Picture was taken from the inside of his house
I remember the bed shaking, trembling with the sounds of a fight. I remember how the walls exploded, my fists bleeding from having been clenched too tight. I held back, my tongue a blunt knife awaiting the sharpening stone.
Continue reading “From His Perspective – Broken”
Sometimes, depression is quiet. It is as silent and unmoving as a rock on the shore of a beach. Then the tide comes in. Then it is no longer depression, but anxiety.
But sometimes, depression is quiet. I liken it to living in a house full of water. See, when Anxiety is in the house causing chaos and breaking everything and hurting every houseguest, the flood is the last of my worries. But when anxiety is on vacation, the water is at my ankles, and it is raining in this flat. Depression sits in the corner, silent, unmoving, unfeeling.
Continue reading “A Storm In My Head”
Lucky Lucky Lucky Me
“Don’t you know how lucky you are to have a beautiful beautiful beautiful body like that?”
Performed at the Handshake Poetry Slam organised by Word Forward, link to my performance can be found at the end of the poem.
Continue reading “Beautiful”
So you breathe and you live and you eat and you sleep and you wake up and you live and you eat and you sleep but are you really, really alive?
Inspired by Iain S. Thomas, “I Wrote This For You”
The Isolation of a Song
Something’s whispering a sad tune.
Something’s whistling in the air.
Something’s whispering a lonely song.
Something’s not right there.
Continue reading “Whisper Of A Song”
What Melting Feels Like
I’m at a coffeeshop.
There is a faint smell of burnt bread in the air, dissolving in the smell of coffee and conversation.
But I’m here and wearing his hoodie,
It still bore a faint scent of freshly laundered clothes,
But that too, will become another scent that mixes with the coffee, burnt bread, and conversation.
Continue reading “Dissolving Coffeeshop”