She saw God

She saw God in the sun

Entranced, she stared until her irises boiled

The burning smell of betrayal wafted down the street and lingered on windowsills

Blinded and blistered

She found solace in the shadows

The smell of golden hour scratched at her memories of golden-washed city scapes while the shadows stroked her hair

When the city swallowed the sun whole, she threw herself at the night

Begging to be a mistress of the moon

She stayed beneath the stars until the colour drained from her face

Her eyes match the white walls of the room where they now keep her.

They didn’t understand why her heart beats in the moments between light and dark

Or how she still trembles at the smell of dawn.

But they haven’t seen God in the sun.

Hello, my name is nebulous personified.

Today i love tuna melts and spicy tea

I love perfumes and lockets

Unwashed hair and clean air and all the seconds i will waste writing this

Today i am concerned with warmth

For fall started biting more harshly than I’d like

Today I am centred,

I am one backup singer with 4 mics, I have 400 dreams, almost no time, much love to spread and…yikes!

I left the kettle on too long and all the water is gone

Thats okay I don’t like tea too much.

Oh! Did i say I do?

That was yesterday and tomorrow, today I don’t like tea.

You see, my being is plasticity embodied in flesh and blood and invariably erratic love.

I am myself, how could i not be such?

But that doesn’t mean it’s easy to touch the surface or pin me down.

You see, I’ve gotten frown lines from smiling and crows feet from crying, because my face is different from yours.

The way it contorts; an unreadable map

See, Columbus thought he found Asia and you thought you found me, but I drift with the wind so how could that be?

I’m everywhere and nowhere but certainly not where you’re looking

You cannot define an incomplete

And thats all Ill ever be; beautifully unfinished.

But who knows?

Maybe I won’t feel that way next week.

A note to self

The blood racing through your wrists is power that only you can tap.

Put a little more step in your groove,

A little more groove in your step.

Treat yourself with the same respect you would your soulmate.

Not because if you don’t no one else will,

That’s a bullshit slogan feeding into an already unhealthy conception of love.

But do it because it matters.

Do it because you can.

Don’t worry about reaching your full potential.

There’s no way to know what that is until you stop focusing on it and start living it.

There is no one best way for your life to unfold.

They’re right, a degree isn’t an end goal,

But it is a beginning.

Stay fearless, open, focused and kind.

The rest is bound to flow;

H two “oh!”

gentle and small and turbulent

in a messy, rushing world

sometimes I feel like a pebble drowning in the rapids

or peaceful like the sea foam gently lapped up by shores

expansive like open waters

and small like scrapes set alight by the salt

we are simply people falling in and out of love

gentle and small and turbulent

The Parched Ones.

They say frogs don’t notice if you boil them slowly

I became so afraid of boiling alive

that i gave up water completely

Slowly I dried up,

became at home in the thirst


Sometimes we gather in the dust,

us parched ones,

And speak of the meaning of life that everyone else has lost

Floating in their tepid pots.


today has been the bahamas

today has been plain

it’s been yoga to the rain

schoolyard burgers @3pm

and potential new friends

its been palo santo

ever-so gentle skies

schoolwork, hiccups and sighs

today has been mundane to ettic eyes

but, to me, it’s been beautiful



The story of a girl long since passed

She rides the bus with her knees tucked in

She disliked big cities, french kissing and the upholstery beneath her which always snags her tights


His face was scratchy against her cheeks

Nice cheeks he had,

They helped fill out his features,

Nice features.


The venue had a futuristic soap dispenser and featured a spectacular guitar player who threw out his neck with passion misplaced.


The grass outside was damp,

Disgusted by their romance in the moonlight

-his stomach touched that girl before his aged lips-

Saggy face

not to be trusted!


People roamed the streets that night like licorice allsorts, uncaged.


She curls up under the blanket her grandma made her

Stoned and sleepy

Says goodnight to the stretchmarks on her thighs……and drifts….

Dreams of shaking cars on rooftop parkadesIMG_2944


Lately I haven’t been loving the sun enough

I’d forgotten the glory of a golden ray

Or many as they stream through leaves and glass doors and silver curls

Get out for golden hour

Appreciate the world dripping in honey

Let the warmth linger on your cheeks

Remember to love the sun

I’ve been feeling peacefully panicky as of late

I’ve slept in a closet as long as I can remember

Forever dreaming of sounds and honey and sun.

I’ve grown to love flowy skirts and the feeling of hair when it’s just been cleaned

Silky and thin it slips through fingers with ease

Like the setting sun slips through the window, casting shadows of leaves on my walls.

My tongue tastes of coffee from an hour ago and the toothpaste that followed.

I’m laying in dew, my jeans are damp

I’m late for class again

Derailed by thoughts of you and the lack thereof.


Leaning out with my shirt tucked in

Savour the foul harbour breeze

Surrounded by strangers

Alone amidst the waves

I’m eating my apple too loudly

I see his irritation

I chew with more passion and dish out a cheeky grin

He doesn’t seem pleased

He would be if he could experience its crunch too

I’m getting used to plaster roofs, empty walls and late busses

I’ve been consciously savouring the sunshine

I’d let it burn me if it cared to

Then it would linger past it’s due date

So many things to hold onto too tightly

My knuckles will turn white

Then blue

Then fall into the sea

Sweet, salty and unclaimed they will sink to the oceans floor

A piece of me will become food for bottom feeders

Only then will I learn to let go