I breathe in the dust 

Like that will drive the bad thoughts away

Flour and smoke coat my throat

My nose

My lungs

Bursting

With powder and maybe it will work this time

I try to stay positive

Believe it or not I aspire to be an optimist

So I drag myself through another day

Pretending that tomorrow will be different

Even if I am a realistic at heart,

A romantic of the mind 

I will tie it all up nice with string 

And bury it in the back garden along with my dreams 

Hoping is a dangerous thing

But I'm a thrill-seeking person

So I cling to the hope that my parcel will bloom

Someday. 

I'm the Ocean,

And you are my Moon.

Push and pull,

Push and pull,

On and on forever. 

You let me close enough

Allow my roots to burrow deep into your heart

So as soon as we're forced to pull away

It's like sticking a dagger straight through your chest

And worse, then digging it out again. 

Like pulling off a plaster, but deeper

Perhaps more like pulling out stitches, tearing muscle from bone

And everyone expects you to be perfectly fine.

But we know.

I know. 

It's not that easy.

We haven't spoken in days so 

I've been looking back through our messages for comfort

(Withdrawals are always tough) 

And I see I once worried about us becoming co-dependent.

I kind of wish it were that cut and dry,

A giver and a taker

But we both are selfish and selfless, melded in a yin-yang of greys

And like the tide

We give and take,

Give and take,

On and on until we break.

Then it's lonliness

Until reconcilitiation;

The Honeymoon,

Then the Doubt.

Even when the rest of the world tells us to stop

We can't help but circle around

On and on, a cosmic dance.

I'm a parasite:

I want so much better for you than I could ever offer

So I try to warn you when I see the tenrils of a bond forming,

Try to get you to open your eyes, see the truth 

But at the same time, it's my life's purpose to be attached to you

And I desperately want to, it makes us both happy, no?

I just worry that one day you will realise it's not as beautiful as you once thought

And we'll already be stuck together, so there will be no escape. 

I worry you think that I don't want this,

But I don't want to pressure you with my wants anyway,

I really want for you to decide on your own.

So I stay silent.

Talk when you need space,

Silent when you need connection.

But we haven't talked in days

And without communication everything falls apart, you know.

I miss when we could talk about problems

Instead of whatever we're doing now.

And I know you're probably busy,

You probably need space

You probably need time 

You probably need quiet

You probably don't want me anymore

But I don't know until you say something

And right now you're dead silent. 

jealousy 

salty on my lips 

like tears or tortilla chips

dragging its nails across 

pale arms 

sunburnt cheeks 

let me sit here in silence 

let me steep in my quiet anger 

like a bag of green tea 

soaked leaves and spite 

leaves an acrid taste on my tongue:

the blood of a lost tooth 

a one-sided grudge 

the smoke of a forest fire

I call myself bitter--

curse my dusty car 

slam the door shut

avoid their eyes--

it feels like a better word than sad 

I can grip jealousy in my palm 

suffocate it in a fist 

but sadness just 

slips 

through 

my fragile fingers.  

Cherry tint

On my lips 

I didn't put it on this morning

But here it is.

80 degrees in September

But I still wear cardigans and turtlenecks

Loose trousers and leather boots. 

My ears are pierced

But on days I know you'll come by

My piercings are out

Just in case we're close enough

For them to get stuck in your hair. 

Traded hoodies 

And change in my pockets

Clutching the pennies

Like I hold your hand 

Breathing in the cologne that lingers on my skin.

I take off my hat and glasses when you round the corner

Knowing they'll just get in the way

Smile when you pop out the lenses of the glasses you never wear

And trace your smile lines with my lips.

We squander precious daylight together

But it's still never enough. 

Two years

and I'm still broken.

These walls I built 

tower over me

Memories haunt me

One alive

One dead

One ghost

Crawing across my

vision.

I'm not alone in this

house. 

Peach sherbert melting on my tongue

As I breathe in it in on the skin of your neck

We sit close enough where if I tilt my head

It rests on your shoulder

And how much I adore you comes slipping out

As your smile-lines deepen

Icy-blue eyes transformed to spring forget-me-nots 

I watch

I'm always watching your face

Even in the dark of late-night calls

I picture you, eyes closed, placid smile

As we fall asleep to the cadence of each other's voices.

On the nights I'm alone I listen to your playlist 

Gentle guitar riffs and faded voices overlapping in a collage of your taste.

Amy Shark comes on and I remember

"I miss you" 

These are 2 poems (both about the ocean) that I have written.

 Running Forever

Running forever

no stops at all

I hit the ocean

hear my quiet footfall

No stops at all

piper-like

hear my quiet footfall

sun sets

Piper-like

in the night

sun sets

I never slow down

In the night 

I hit the ocean 

running forever 

 Swim and  Swim

Arctic water

Gulf of Maine

they are 

one and the same

Teasing my toes

pulling me in

I give up

and swim and swim and swim.

Blinding blue

rimmed with white

slipping running

'til out of sight 

Teasing my toes

pulling me in

I give up

and swim and swim and swim!

Do you like? Please leave comments. 

Here is my poem I hope you can read it!

Please leave comments

Thanks! 

if i don’t become a writer,

i think i’d be satisfied

if i became an ironworker,

like my father before me,

and his father before him.

what poetry, to live above the scaffolding,

to see the world from heights others

could only dream about!

if i cannot publish books

to be placed in bookstore display windows,

or write poems

to printed in literary journals,

then i shall have to write my poetry

into the bricks and mortar of this city,

to weave my stories into its ever-beating heart.

new york, new york,

the school children will sing,

and they will be singing my song.