as she held the brush in her hand
at 3am
with nothing but candlelight to illuminate her tears
she found home
in the satisfaction of the strokes of her brush
the ease of the colours
splaying
as she burned alive
at the sight before her

there is something to behold
in women who scream
who feel
who revel
to cry in defiance with them
at the world
at the injustice

there is something to behold,
in women
by women
for women
of women.

if it was my turn to stand up
but I sat down
who do you look to first?
those standing before me, or those sitting behind me?

sometimes my bones forget
that being an artist
being a creator
is not having the ability to create something beautiful
to be marvelled at
it is simply
the cry
the urge
the fire so deeply churning
to produce
to recapture
to create

I can’t anymore
whether it be time a cross or sea
the fog makes it impossible to know
just where to leave
the words
for you
from me

I can no longer
explain
the depths of the pain
within her eyes
the way the ink leeched
From her very being
Into mine

I respected him for his ‘hmm’
Over and over
No utterance whispered
Or even shouted
Simply ‘hmm’
like the glass shattering
was of no consequence to him
just a ‘hmm’ would suffice
as the door quietly clicked shut

he loved me like the stars were inconsequential that night.
Like the only thing worth time was studying the way my lips moved and my laugh bellowed

I wanted to whisper through time to the little one running through the halls watching her parents have a water fight through the house; “you’ll find one too”.

when I asked you whether I should go turn out the lights

You said “no. why?”

and for a fraction of a second I could see myself through your eyes

and I never felt the need to ask again

If only the films could capture
the imperfections of love:
like 3am arguments that mean nothing but a need to be heard.
When heads **** and clothes become struggles in the throes of passion.
the imperfections of the way you love yourself, but they love you anyways.
If only they could capture shuffles up stairs between moans and kisses.
and just capture the boundless love when love is imperfect.
If only.

It was in the way you looked at me
across the room
like it would only take a second
for this busy room
to stop
and have those clothes drop
with no complaints from me

I’ve stopped looking at you in wonder
not because you aren’t wondrous
but because I no longer see us as too good to be true
I don’t know when it happened
Or how
But I know while you rest this afternoon with hands on my limbs
I can feel the dust settling on a midsummer dream
and while the dream remains light, wondrous and new
The home I made with you
Was built slowly through slow dances and arguments and patience
Built by long conversations and silent smiles
Home with you
isn’t wondrous, it’s a cup of tea after a long day
Home with you is a choice
and I chose you

the connotation wrapped around the word
constantly squeezing before comforting
It just always suffocated for me
Because for every cemented idea and every concrete plan that was built up around me I felt I had been forced to settle.
To settle into others plans, hopes, goals, and desires. I felt forced to settle into an imaginary ring.

I never thought I could choose to settle. Till I chose to settle into your arms. I chose to settle into the late night conversations where eyes flicked as children were whispered. I chose to settle within the open plains that wrapped the distance of your heart to mine. I chose to settle into laughter with you. I chose to settle for my happiness that grew every single time you expanded room for me.

I chose to settle. instead of being settled.

I chose to settle, settle around you.

“at last, “
Etta James sings
as I crawl into blankets once more
tears
at last.

Nothing is more frustrating
Than watching the words
Sit
On the edge of your tongue
As you stumble and mutter around them
They scratch their heads at you
and you wonder why the words remain
Stagnant
On the edge of your tongue
Rather than telling
How it actually was

I wanted to say something poetic.
to capture the sheer depth of emotion brought forth by that goose
I wanted to evoke the pleading in his first note
to hear the panic in the second
I wanted to let you feel the hope
to push towards the potential of having a reply
I wanted to tell you his lonliness
to hear his cry.

I heard a little goose
in the starry sky
lost on his lonesome
not ashamed to cry.
He made me pause
as I had never heard such loneliness
echoing into the black expanse. his pleas,
I could feel his yearnings
the tickle in his throat
as he screamed to be heard
like that tree who fell.

I heard a little goose.
all by his lonesome
I couldn't help but notice, not a whisper of another
just his wings a flutter,
calling for another.

I heard a little goose,
I hope I am heard too.

it’s funny
how every once and a while
it will
creep
back into your periphery
like a shadow you forgot existed
Because the light was so bright it couldn’t be seen
but every now and then
when it’s time to lay my head down
it creeps
back into the sheets
into the wind
as you turn
restless
waiting for the sun to come up
so that it sneaks and
creeps away

words will never do you justice  
Because words cannot let you taste the way
the water from your back
only made me thirstier.
the way your shoulders smell like home,
a home of campfire, grease, ***, and rain
words cannot let you see the way
you cocked your head at me
with all the gears and wheels turning
to finally lay me down
words cannot express
How you pushed and pulled me
to grow a little more
words cannot let you hear the rustle of the sheets and the sound of you breathing
mixed with your heartbeat and the wind outside
a whisper against your ear
words only let me tell you of a moment
without letting you live it

it’s not even just sleep with you.
It’s waking up to you.
It’s feeling your fingertips against my hip
It’s the safety in the middle of the night
Knowing that the monsters under the bed
simply cannot hold space
under the bed we broke
and made our own

Some days a little bit of liquor
and a bonfire with heat
makes a night to remember
and really good sleep

Sometimes
I forget the way your hip fits
and other times
I forget you like the heat
But never
do I forget the way you love me
in the daylight and in the sheets

when his kisses are pleasures
being refined upon my hips
and his hands
caress my shape
like a carpenter varnishing his workpiece

I question how someone could not be entranced

by the paintings scattered across his back
and the husk in his chuckle

I would think
most would give all they have
for one more fix

for his handy tools
and craftsmanship

do you think
sometimes
that when our parents asked us
to dream so big
they did it
so that
the achievable goals
only a breath away
were no longer conceivable?

you wanted me to grieve for you
you wanted me to baulk and mewl
you wanted me to scream and pitch a fight
you wanted me to be a scene.
but
I wanted someone who could trust
I wanted someone who could be patient
I wanted someone who had the capacity to be kind
I wanted someone.
so no
I did not scream for you
but I did put away the necklace
I did not cry for you
but I did remove pictures from frames
I did not take your list of a letter
but I did hold my tongue

I screamed in nightmares months after, realizing you wanted not the best for me, but wanted every morsel, scrap, and drop of me.  

I did not do what you wanted.
because I wanted me.

the words being spoken
dancing on your tongue
make me wonder
how many times
they have tangoed
on other lips

and the way you pull out the consonants in my name
force me to pause
and sit back down

I didn't realize your dance card was full

I loved it for the way it was
not for what you wanted it to be

I would like to sear that memory
Of my shaking legs
and our running noses
into my very being
because the way you laughed
retelling me of my mortifying murmurs  
was the best thing I had ever heard
And the way your shoulders shook
and your head leaned back
as I reeled laughing into your chest
was that kind of moment
as the shower head kept us warm
that feels like ‘it’
where your effortless lean
and grin into the iced tea
was a moment I want forever
so I could laugh with you once more

some nights
you don’t sleep so tight
you relax into sleep
into me, into peace
and some nights
you shudder
and mutter
occasionally
some nights
you grasp me tighter
and others you seem afraid to touch
but a few nights
you settle
snoring like the ocean
and I sigh in unison
Knowing this night was peace

Amongst the sneezing
the aches
and the hacking “yum”
we cried in laughter
and embraced the glory  
of that ******* sock
and snotty showers
and even as
I sniffled into that dq ice cream
with his nose nuzzled at my knee
I couldn’t help but be content
at your unkempt
unbelievably ****
layered white tee and
frying pan abilities

When we discuss love
We don’t tend to talk
about the way it creeps up on you.

how it went from trying to remember your brother’s names to “will they be coming too?”

It starts the same, but just a little different. There’s just that little more fun. That smile that creases around your eyes that little bit more.

And while moments are exhilarating and freeing, we still hold back slightly.

Till that moment.

Hit like lightning. Realizing all you’ve ever wanted is sitting in front of you with their knees tucked up gazing at a movie you knew they’d like.

But the way the lightning crackles inside you, reverberating through every cell to let you know the depth of this realization and the fizzle of lichtenberg figures as that love is etched into your skin.

It’s seeing the bits of life that are trivial, but looking forward to every second because it’s with them.

And it’s knowing they could walk away at any second.
But knowing it’ll be okay.
Because you’ll have gotten to experience, that one of a kind struck by lightning moment.
and proudly carry those scars for the rest of your days.

“oh it’s touch and go, you know”

now I understand why I hated tag.

the acknowledgement of needing more
has a cavern
with depth like grief
and vastness like fear
and stepping outside the door of lacklustre
is terrifying
but the peace of more reaches further than the deep and vast cavern could ever stretch to

As I wrote symphonies on your lips
And the sunlight played it in stride
time took a breath
and we we’re left to acknowledge
the way my hands felt on your chest
And yours on my back
drawing little nothing, utterly content
to rest in the breath time took
and murmur all the words the greatest lovers never got to whisper
while your green eyes shone
looking at me

days used to fly by
and maybe it terrified me
maybe because he terrified me
so it was better to look for the next thing.
but
days now crawl slowly
and it makes me groan
maybe because the next thing wasn’t there
and I was left to wonder why.

The ease in your morning breaths was everything to me
Because for once
I was no longer focused on the evening schedule or the afternoon chores
I was focused on the sounds
I was focused on my cold toes anchored against your calf
I was focused on the taste of last night lingering in the air

The ease in your arms was everything to me
Because for once
I was no longer focused on anything but now

There are moments in life
we all have dreamed about
The cinematic snapshots
magically capturing that feeling
In a way that the world rarely allows

It’s the present moments

and I am oh so lucky to have found one with you

Lines
    dropping
from head to toe

you watch

As my fingers
   Trace
from my neck to my left hip

dropping through a valley which releases a moan

Breath
   catching
As you watch
             happily

as i touch your favourite work of art

the letters drop carelessly from her lips

wait
not carelessly

calculated

waiting for prey

like a wolf under sheep skin

sitting awake
I thought of him

of what we were

of what it was

of how it should have been.

but now
I thank god
sitting awake

instead of waking up screaming

the rustle in the sheets
as you start to wind down
may be my favourite sound
as your head
sinks on the pillow
and I can tell
you’ve found a home

a child’s trust

as they trust jump into your arms

could never be sweeter than anything

except maybe how you smiled at me

leaning against the doorframe

like you could see

forever

its funny

to break for someone that is not yours
for dreams you did not have before

but i cannot spot picturing

Those little hands
as they stretched out for me

with all the trust in the world

and the way your smile
made me see
as we giggled

how there could be more

I hate
that you say my name with such careless abandon

just so that my soul would ache

but god I love
the way you touched me

in the dark of night
just to leave me in the morning

when I would dream
of the days to come
I never once pictured myself
really detailed
in the imagery

until now
where the details in the creases on my eyes
are plain to see
from where you kept me smiling
for all to see

they say the eyes are the windows to the soul
I would argue
that the tables which we sit at
and the way we sit
is a far better indicator
as to how much soul someone has left to care for

because darling,
how you sit across from me
makes me wonder

whether anybody is home

Today was a funny day
I couldn’t stop hearing that prime numbers poem in my head
Where 59 loves 60.
And it made me laugh.
Because after the third run through I was curious what you would’ve made of it.
It dulled the ache in my arms and legs as I fluttered around changing my surroundings for the sake of someone’s whim.
The rhythmic sigh of my coworkers as the plastic tore and the heels of tired people grind the ground.

I couldn’t decide whether you were 60 or 59 or maybe even 61.

When the sun has yet to rise
And when your eyes remain closed

and

When your breathing softens and your shoulders finally drop every fraction of tension

It is then that the shadows seem to encompass you, giving you an ethereal glow

but you remain effortlessly breathtaking

dropping my thoughts, desires, and love at the nape of your neck

before my eyes close for the night

and I am lost in the comfort of you

as rascal serenades me
of a back to life kinda love
I can't help but giggle

because I know

I only want his hips against my own
with dishcloths in our hands
and sockless feet **** tat tat ing on the floor
with tired eyes and laughter in our throats

because I know

I was lucky enough
to get a glimpse of the kinda love

rascal wanted of life

as the room is shaking with the sounds of laughter
full of all the people
all the things
all the excitement of new experiences
all I can do is giggle
fully aware that no one knows what each of us actually is doing
as we venture into the world

but we each know
we are not alone