Sometimes, I’m the bird playing outside the window, and sometimes, I’m the one looking out from in. Sometimes, I’m the singer caught in the song, wondering what’s going on. And then I’m the writer in the aftermath, picking up the pieces. Sometimes, It’s my words, but not my tale to bail, and sometimes, I takeContinue reading “Sometimes”
Tag Archives: poet
“…freedom I’m allowing myself to seize…”
When I don’t understand what I’m feeling, I check in the mirror, to see if it’s all in place. All resting there, prominent in the crevices of my face. Usually it’s present, there in my features, long before I can make out, it’s meaning in logical sequence. It’s painted there ever so clearly, in myContinue reading “Mirror Greeting”
Words, Hand Held.
Hand held security, in their words, in their company…
Broken into,finger-prints, someone else’s. All over the fabric lining of your mind. View distorted, by hands, someone else’s. Manipulating the senses, moulding the clay beneath your skin. Temporary invasion, leaving you reeling , in shock and exhaustion. Asking yourself, as you wake up every morning after: Can I still call this home? My sanctuary? MyContinue reading “Home Invasion”
Shelf Life of a Day Dream