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
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
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 parkades
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 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
The thought of you blushing in the van
I wish you were more like almond milk, plentifully stored in the trunk on my floor
I cried in a restaurant tonight
I needed to stand to eat my burger and shopping really takes it out of me.
The ferry’s tomorrow are all full
I’m walking on with your flowers and a shoe rack
I hope the wind is kind to their petals when I nap in the sun
I wish I’d taken more photos
Captured the kindness in the crinkles by your eyes
Sweet bumblebee
Normally I’d swing away the sadness
But my ass hurts
There’s not enough toothpaste in this tube
I missed the sunset this morning by an inch of sleep
I’ve forgotten what rain smells like
TeA.
Three hoorahs for the absurd
Two cheers a plate of jello
It splattered on the roof
..and the floor
I dream of sorting cherries.
I dream of sorting cherries?
Stop faffing the light is green!
Chapstick in my eye
Oh well, at least my cornea will be
supple
The light is red again
The mountains kiss the sky like the moss on our bare feet
The teacup flowers breathe sweetly into the gentle summer breeze
A bruised knee cap and a long nap
These are the honey of moments
Sweet thick and a little sticky
Like the sap on my finger tips the night I didn’t sleep
I’ve made friends with the shade and together we crush on the sun
As she sprays a blinding glow across the lake and onto the trees
I’m not falling asleep
I am falling asleep
I will wake baking in the sunshine with a sunburn on all 4 cheeks
I’m calling to the lake
He calls back
Still the bugs don’t leave me alone
I am one of them now
At home in the meadows
I belong to the flowers 
The Messy Drawer 