The genius of memory,
twisting our fates,
teaching our hate
to forge new reasons
for forgetting forgiveness
and framing feelings
as the criminal directing
a great escape
where others hunted
will be caught
but the master of
emotion will be free
to walk away,
to see release.

A Question on Secrets


I am too young to be burdened down by the moments from the past that have bruised me. My tongue will no longer be still, it will dance with the truths that others chose to act in. I am not a burden, I am not a slut, I am not a soulmate to crush for a twisted version of love where only one comes alive while the other buries themselves to hide under the stacks of lies where relationships are hammers wanting to kill instead of building a place where integrity spills. I will be clean from your secrets you gave me.

Much Longer


I will not
write for much
I go from
to lead
to nothing
the thoughts
of how to hide
grow stronger
and protecting
myself gets harder,
I will not write
for much longer,
I will disappear
into the honour
that came from
strangers reading
these words
but I will not write
for much longer
until I have learned
how to conquer
these monsters
in my head
which eat my
in pieces
of time
just enough
to leave
anxiety behind,
I will not write
for much longer,

I will not be.
I will not be
for much longer.

A Definition



1. The feeling that comes after deep pain, / One who has lost everything, / When it feels like there is nothing more to gain, / A heart no longer flourishing, / When one desires to give love, but cannot find it within themselves, / An empty feeling dwelling in ones chest, / Dust gathered on a forgotten bookshelf, / When one misses the person, place, or thing it loved best, / Me without you, / A rumour that has become true, / A heart covered in mildew, / A love with a collapsed roof.