This afternoon wears my sadness in her palest eyes of Sunday blues she said she’s not a languid Friday, with arms stretched out in forever she is the ending of infinity the beginning of an end she huddles from the cold, she is a dancer in slow motion, falling and her smile is thin and […]
Read More Sunday huesThat September, I didn’t see the moon all month, I remembered the dark skies, my horoscope of hopelessness the moon like a past lover, she hid from my desperation and my devastated words, like ‘we’ and ‘us’ singularly scattered in the ocean like ripped up poems from yesterday even the moon could not bear the […]
Read More Devastated wordsyou were too small when the world tried you on for size it grew your skeleton from tragedies too quickly, hardening your spine and traumatizing you with heavy folds of life upon your glossy shoulders the world was too big for you to wear, no-one to realise it clung to you, and pierced your milky […]
Read More An oversized worldDeath walked into the room quietly he didn’t belong there, and he knew it she wanted to chase him away but he’d hung his coat up on the door, settling in and unsettling the monitors flickered like panic-strickened eyes in a departure lounge “let’s not leave today” she said a bruised petal drifted to the […]
Read More Not today‘when are we there?’ sighs the archipelago, indigo blue and frangipani hair solitary she sleeps weeps, wistful for pangea days she sympathises with the anenomes in the rock pools, siphoning stagnant water needy tendrils lunging at the tide, hungrily desperate for a breath, for togetherness .. I wrote a script for the blue sun to […]
Read More The sorrow of an archipelagoIt’s a pleasing thing to hear my whispers turned into roars by the ocean, timid sounds that roll around seashell necklaces of the mermaids I beg to magnify the crescendo of the waves and I crave the thunderous noise of my fingers like a pianoforte in the seafoam, or a screaming storm in a teacup […]
Read More A lament for my lost instrumentAnd just like that I am a weary moth No butterflies here I’d like to paint my wings But they are thick with dust Shed like my dignity As I throw myself At any shred of your light Desperate, scrambling As you close your window My wings disintegrate At your touch
Read More Like a moth to your flame…My name is sadness I would like us to have another talk. Frankly, I am sick of being ignored. I am not some meaningless acquaintance who you can hide from if you avoid eye contact. I can run faster than you. And I am determined. Do not pretend you have not felt my presence. I’m […]
Read More Caught, by sadness.My name is sadness. We know each other well. Today I’ve been nesting. I’ve been in your cupboard, the one under the stairs, haunted by the ghost town of your life. I put on old songs and found fragments, litter, so many broken shards. Old photographs of friends, abandoned in their frames. A box of […]
Read More Decluttering sadness
