Poetry

Weather warning

The cloud got off the bus, black and heavy

with rumbles already rippling across it.

It had started out light, peaceful cotton,

but was soon forced to drift into a haze of vapour.

Words began to weigh it down

and the darkness spread as lightning grew in its belly.

When finally it stepped through the threshold to home,

the crackles broke out and kicked down the flood gates,

roaring all the while.

 

After, free of all it’d carried,

it settled into a cosy nook of sky

next to the sun’s evening rays,

not a touch of storm in its makeup.

Poetry

You can come out, now

It’s funny seeing colours jump around on your skin

when all you’ve looked at before

is black and white.

When supporting hands surround you if you fall

instead of nothingness,

and the darkness can’t take hold in your mind

because sconces filled with rich fire have been lit throughout

its pathways.

 

It’s funny, having backup, an alter-ego, a friend.

You don’t quite know what to do,

because the part of you that remembers this is what it should be like

is still hiding under the blankets.

 

 

 

Poetry

Meltdown

It’s like someone’s hooked me up

to a drip filled with every uneasy, frustrating moment I’ve ever had

and let it seep into my body all at once.

I’m pacing around in the calcifying walls of my mind

while my body tunes itself out

to my directions. It’s laughable

the lack of control I can exert.

I’m a parasite to myself

within myself

of myself

and even as I clutch at you,

screaming unwillingly in your face,

all you do is ask me to meet your gaze.

 

Poetry

Out of Us

The cage rattles as the shrieks fill it up,

over-spilling the ribs to the point of cracking.

Look up,

look UP.

Don’t sink to the riverbed,

resurface and gasp for air.

Ignore the temptation

to sprint past go

until you’ve no go left.

Grip the safety line being thrown to you,

you know it’ll never be forced away.

You know you can’t push it away.

Poetry

Deal?

I never want you       to be anything less

than yourself around me       let yourself out fully, don’t       hold back

no matter what       tell me anything

bounce ideas off me like I’m a squash court

same with emotions: let them       out

laugh, cry, be low, be high

show me the darkness       show me the light

anything that’s on your mind, anything at all

I will always be a net to hold the rawest parts of you

Poetry

Peach Stone

1.

Inside, it’s cold. The density

causes ice to vomit from my mouth,

fingernails blue up to the cuticles.

If I were to examine my chest,

open my flesh and push apart my ribs,

would I see a ball of obsidian

or a fleshy, ripe peach?

 

2.

With you, the limbs of the tree are always

bent with fruit

no matter if the middle of winter

grasps at its bark. Soft, plump, nourishing.

I can always pick how much I want,

cook it up and make sweet crumble

to warm our bellies.