[autoimmune]

You look And I feel my skin crackle just beneath the surface I’m aflame from the inside Mind providing the kindling I’m losing sense of — You look at me And the chubby china doll face splits open But no sound comes out Save the snapping of heat filling my ears On fire from the…

as will you & I at dawn and dusk [a poem]

Maybe I was beautiful Once, behind the dust veil Lace dancing on the light Blessing the space our souls danced In the ballroom between our lips. I look over my shoulder at you, demure smile Mystery learned from your secret-keeping ways Will it hurt you to count the others that have waltzed here since you left…

there aren’t words [a brief poetic]

“Please, don’t ever stop writing, Allow always the twins of Joy and Pain to ravage you…” The pain I’ve been trying to write Out of my system, however Is one for which language has birthed Not words, but images Personal and of the utmost beauty These marked the path to a grave A certain part…

microcosm [a poem]

One of the areas in which I have experienced extraordinary growth over the past few years, this last one in particular, is my spirituality. I grew up with a particular leaning towards favouring science, viewing it as though it were separate from all the rest of the concepts. As the rebel daughter of a Tarot reader,…

love does not exist in this world where people live by fear and ego.

(Black and white) I shared my soul, opened mind, arms, and heart and in the end, lost those too: I didn’t look the part. (warfare) Fatalities: Hope. Love. Faith. They lie here Struck down by the failure of believing In the beauty of one’s spirit To transcend the beauty of the shell for its journey….

In the image of god [a crafted thought]

I was one of those theatre kids in high school – except, probably not the kind of theatre kid you’re thinking of because, maybe owing to the talent that was our director, our theatre department accepted creativity and talent without demanding it look bizarre and attention-seeking. I love every side of theatre, from the dramaturgy…

the destruction we bring one another

Flashback Friday – how much foresight I didn’t know the words carried.   Set before me a hundred canvases, Call them my calendar, And I will paint your face on the next and The next and the next… Ever you are there: I shut my eyes to hide from yours And your laugh roars louder;…