Window Glitter


The way you walk

mirrors your talk;

a being dancing on window glitter.

Streams of light,

beaming gleefully at the end of a Spring day,

warming my feet

and lightly touching my sleeve.

But you are not real

my Springtime love,

who only exists in my waking dreams.

You are the shadow of the Sun,


floating through my fingers,


and yet unseen.

Midnight Garden


Roses become alien in the moonlight

for how could they be of this earth?

when every curve of every petal

turns into a star – hiding secrets of the past

The light of something once alive 

now dead

reaches out

forming silvery lines


Like fingers pointing through the darkness

directing me towards this midnight garden

Rivers of grass become luminescent caverns

hidden deep beneath the sea

Tiny moths circle the air without direction

becoming glittery figures surfing the twelve ‘o’ clock wave


Leaves fall to the ground

like comets folding into the dirt


and with the ease

of a summer night’s breeze











I don’t want to spend money

I want to spend time with you

playing games like they use to

in those movies

from the eighties

when a song and a hairstyle fixed everything


I want to drink wine and talk about the wind



how it feels against your face

I don’t want to spend money

I want to spend my life looking

around at all the places

zooming in


on all the smiles that we made




There is a bravery that comes from being able to look at yourself in the mirror and see what the world has done to you and you, in turn, to the world. Too often people spend time pretending they’re perfect. They lie to their mirrors and tell their eyes that they’re ok. Eyes are the biggest liars in the world. They see only what they think you want to see but they do not show you what must be witnessed.

Witness the homeless man on the street corner without drugs you presume he takes.

Witness the children, starving on television screens and don’t convince yourself they’re actors in some Oscar winning scene.

Witness the lie of those whose mouths curve upwards, when you make a joke at their expense.

Remember that pain is not often witnessed, by indicators you have grown up to believe.



Beauty & Starvation


If you have nothing at all then you have nothing to lose.

This is the flawed philosophy I carry around like a tonne of bricks tied to my back. I don’t believe I willingly choose this state of thinking. Sometimes thoughts simply become you – a result of all your experiences.

Are we not the total sum of everything that made us? (or unmade us?)

I saw a picture last night of a young boy. His skin was practically touching bone and his eyes were deep black pools. It was as if no soul existed behind his face. Like it had been sucked away by circumstance.

We are all born into different circumstances.

I was born into a circumstance where food was given to me as comfort, and eyes were given to make me uncomfortable.

He was born into a circumstance where food was rarely given, and I’m sure that is more uncomfortable than the unhappiness I feel when I look into the mirror.

I think about food and what it’ll do to my hips.

For a long time I never truly considered the millions of souls dragging their hips along the dirt, gasping for breath.

I wonder about the tears they would shed if shown my local grocery store. I also wonder about the reflections I stop to stare at in every mirror of every store. How I examine every curve, every line, every fold.

And lastly, I think about how I never stop to consider, the beauty of a nourished soul.





Dirty Week


I chose black today

at the last minute

Blanketing my body in darkness

because I felt like it


I realized later

how seamlessly I suited the colour


For I was the darkness that plagued the week

that pulled everyone in

and made us Fool’s closest friend


Next week I will wear colour


A lesson learnt while staring

at the dirty pile of laundry

I created