And So It Goes

“Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale / Her infinite variety: other women cloy / The appetites they feed, but she makes hungry / Where most she satisfies.”

Antony and Cleopatra, Act II, Scene II
-William Shakespeare

Meet me in the middle

In hopes we might reconcile

At the highest degree,

And bear no strange fruit

No rotten seeds

Clean at the core

Rewrite history.

A ground once unfit for love to breed

So brown eyes like mine turned blue

Drowning in violent thought of you.

Looking back to the wave of your hand,

And the goosebumps on your skin

Grains of sand,

Quick to sink in.

Are love and hate irreconcilable

If absolutes do not exist?

When passion and pain can be found in a grab of the wrist.

Where water subdues what

Fire and desire persist —

Satan as well as God in the midst.

I found you and your opposite too

Fit to split my heart in two,

To colour me in black and blue

Then rinse it away

Start anew

Drink another case of you.

Night follows day, and day night

The moon saddles up

In light of her sun.

Lost in me, Lost in you

Forgot there was such thing as I,

In the end all was one and gone.

Wilhelm Scream

I see stars

Galaxies and constellations

With each flutter

The curtains of your eyes

Reveal and conceal

I find what’s real

In the heart of an iris

I risk it all to watch you bloom

A million lifetimes

In the blink of an eye

Acoustic session on loop

A muffled fader

To remind me of what I never knew

A memory of you

Though I haven’t met you yet

Straight to the heart and through the chest

You missed me

Somehow I knew.

Mental Magic

How do you?

Fit into this frame of mine.

Allusions I made
Alluding to
Illusions of me
Losing you.
Losing to who?
You’re losing too…

When do I get to be the creator?
Create or crave
The creation or the reaction
Reactors searching for a reason
React or
Play along like actors

A Veces
My vices

They get the best of me.

The model
Tie and tease

Beach ball of consciousness bearing
Contained creative currency currently
The urgency to transmute is irking me.

A matter of causality
Amidst life’s tragedies
No casualty could conquer me

Yet you falter

And you coil up inside of me

No place I’d rather be, in intertwined anatomy.

You live inside me.

Reptilian matrimony.


I had a very bizarre nightmare recently, so I decided to write a poem about it.

Sat in the mezzanine 

the hint of death in the air 

travels through the nasal passage

and loiters at the Throat

I look to the skies.

A grey haze hovers above 

staking claim to blessed assurance

devoid of Light 

absent of Love 

The Haze clouds their Hope

I see it in their eyes,

They gather like flies 

or a Roman court 

from the balcony

it seemed to look down on us, 

in search of a mirror

To find likeness below 

And all of the above

But the bodies flew.

One grand thrust 

they fell to the ground 

each and every one 

burying us. Heel to Skull

violent Wind, Pipes bust , Bones crush.

An act of rebellion? 

Suicidal solidarity.

The youth have spoken

evanescence is a slinky dress

barely clung at the shoulder.

their fate has been chosen, 

all Thought laid to rest.


Open at the core.

Ready to receive

In the still of the Night.

Ancient memories

I once could not perceive

Revealed in the glint of candlelight .

A firework in my eye

The spark and excitement of becoming,

The thrill of being undone.

Threads unravel to be woven once again

Or sometimes entangled and discarded

In the end.

Hope sealed in the heart of a knot

The rope burn still remains.

A feeling of friction,

The sanguine sense of touch,

It was enough to incite me

Enough to inspire me.

I’ll chase that thrill until the end.

Right off the ledge,

More than enough.

Until I transcend

Over the edge?

Over the edge.

In The Sins

Traveled to more places than ever before

Despite this quarantine.

Near and far, High and Low

You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen.

Through this time continuum

Unearthed holy terrain,

My restless mind, the bends —

A drifter in the land of dreams

Where all end and begin.

I even went to Hollywood,

It was there I learned I didn’t want to be a star.

Instead I walked on by into the haze of night sky

Unscathed yet somewhat scarred.

Found myself stood at a mountaintop

in Vegas, thought I’d make a deal.

Turned back before I lost it all,

Lest I lose sight of what is real.

The details in the sins, you see,

And everything in between.

I long for comfort

Yet want to be condemned

He says forgive myself

And let the Sun in.

Who After Dark

Who after dark

Can confidently profess content?

Truthfully declare you were

Fulfilled and ever present.

Or are you left feeling depleted?

Devoured by the ether

Taking cover under covers

Only place you could rest

Where your sun sets

In retrospect,

I must confess —

The body wasn’t built for this conquest.

Poured into a bottomless cup

Love sank to the ocean floor and

Never came up

What do you do it for?

Trickster energy is Lustful

A whore keeping score.

Real Love is sustained

The latter merely maintained

Until the well runs dry

Pleasure as a sedative

Is just the speck in your eye.

But we come back for more,

Lust is trickster energy

A whore keeping score.

And I Won’t Pull Out.

Before I get too close

Stop me while I’m a head

Before I turn my head

Like Lot’s wife, God forbid

Led to wherever you are

By a shining star

Like the wisemen once did

I’ll be wiser then they ever were

No more possession

By the thief in the night

That comes in waves

Washing over my skin

Every night I curve

Goosebumps raise

Parabolas the rise and fall

The chaos of it all

Feel it from the inside

Furrows in the womb

The feelings that consume

The rhythm that resumes

Rip me right open

I’ll writhe in the open

And to the dirt I’ll return

Let the Earth have its turn.

Seen (The Face)

Was it heard

Was it felt

Was it understood?

Rhythmic silence between

All that is good .

When to start

When to stop

When to pick up the pace,

Disarmed with a grin

The one and only face

I haven’t forgot.

I still live in this space.

It runs throughout

Still on my mind,

Ink blots that stain


Bleed through

Again and again .

Dark matter of the brain

Will I see you again?

Nothing to lose

Nothing to gain.

It’s up to you

It’s up to you.

Tides & Currents

Ripened Desire. His love ran down my chin like juice from the pomegranate. I savoured every seed, looked up to see his ecstasy, syrupy sweet. When we locked eyes, we threw away all keys. I swear his gaze alone could bring me to my knees. A graze of my hand along the side of his neck, that was pretty much all it took to set his soul at ease. That kind of power is deadly, dangerous. When the pull is so strong that all resistance becomes weak. I would run to him now, but I’m not prepared to bleed. I only have a few more lives left in me. I’d be damned if I stay, damned if leave. So leave me right where I stand, don’t call out to me. All the memories I hold on to, where do I put them down? The bass of his voice, can I rid myself of the sound? The mischief of his smile and the furrow of his brow. Shit, I even romanticised the downward curl of his frown. The tides and currents we made. Happy to be a drop in his ocean. It’s my greatest strength and my worse vice. The way I studied him. To replay every conversation like a never ending melody. To still feel the warmth of his skin on bed sheets. Sights and Sounds, I can never forget. The Taste, Touch , Smell of someone I swore saw the human in my being. Martyrdom in the name of potential love, the only sacrifice both binding and freeing. Teach me to let it all go. Sweep it all away.

Do You Believe In Second Chances?

You don’t like being controlled.

I don’t like being lonely   

Even when I’m not alone.

Desires for intimacy

But your hands too shaky to hold

Not trying to force you to fit the mould,

You know I struggle with control.

I looked inward to find the source of my inhibitions

That floated up to the surface  to a synagogue  of witnesses.

A sea of faces, and they all have your eyes,

When there’s nowhere to run or hide 

You gotta enter the chamber

Slay the dragon, kill the Pride.

Disarmed you with the truth

And a conversation you weren’t ready for

Corrupted soil bore the fruit of the land you consumed 

Now you’re dazed and confused

Wondering why your mental strings are out of tune. 

It’s a parasitic cycle we live in 

Acting like we don’t care,

Closed mouths don’t get fed

Pleading the fifth gets you nowhere.

Miscommunication patented the seed

For the roots of deception

Descent into the land where entropy reigns supreme.  

Energy of entitlement got you all fucked up 

it seems.

I want to understand

First you need to throw me a bone.

These virtual realities of failed systems 

Could crumble at the foot of our

Ignited soles.

When your vision meets my minds eye 

What a sight to behold.

We could get a taste of how it feels to be whole 

To see today’s genesis 

In light of the old. 


9:37 pm. I’m alone

The call has just ended

With unresolved silence

From my side of the dial

Tone deaf and dumb

An uncertainty lingers

In the air from her

‘Goodbye, I love you, speak soon.’

Naturally I deal with these

Uncomfortable moments

Where I’m left with nothing

But self reflection and a

Dead battery the only way

I know how.

Cherry red lips

And a swivel of gloss

Stains the rim.

No drop will be left to

It’s lonesome tonight

There’s a Red Sea inside of me

Waiting to be parted

I dissolve into despondency

Inebriated therapy .

There are mistakes that I’ve made,

Risks that’s I’ve taken,

Sins I still seek atonement for,

And decisions I refuse to face

All screaming in

Harmonious discord

Why did I let it get this far?

If a sixth sense exists, and

A woman’s intuition is God

Then I have denounced both,

My own personal Judas.

Didn’t listen to my heart

Did what I was expected

Paralysed by parental pressure

When it was time to speak my truth

My backbone bent

Not strong enough to withstand

The commodity of my youth.

So they all laughed .

Laughs turned to horror

Horror turned scowls of disgust

Disgust to confusion

They must’ve thought me delirious.

When the jokes not so funny anymore,

‘Oh, she’s serious?’

Voices sink like quicksand.

People really look like places

When you’re lost.

A man can look like a home

When you think you have none .

Hollow inside

I allowed many to take up residence

Not even dead presidents

Could pay off the debts they raised

Imagine me, Almost 23.

And I thought I’d ruined my life

Thought I spoke up too late

Ran when the timing wasn’t quite right

A trail of breadcrumbs left

Still waiting on the mice

To take it all away,

Conceal my misguided steps

I was waiting for days, weeks ,

Months, a year later

And still left there standing

Still hoping to salvage my self before expiry

Eyes cast to the heavens thinking

Man, God must be tired of me.

Gave me so many exit plans

I stood dumbfounded at every door

Looking for ways out

Drawing circles on the floor

When momma hang up the phone

I didn’t know what to say anymore

Didn’t know my future

Didn’t know what I was doing

I let him change my name

Left to ruin

As if it made me any more of a woman

Signed my independence away

Blood stained calligraphy.

They say a man who finds a wife

Finds a beautiful thing,

But I wasn’t ready

So his blessing became my curse

Final chapter written in cursive

Open Endings still uncertain.

I can never really explain

Just how much it hurt,

Still I managed to claw my way

Through the dirt.

Sometimes the pain comes back to visit

Like an old time friend

Reminding me, Never. Never again.

If life was a lucid dream

I would’ve woken way sooner

Changed the narrative

Traveled the nine circles of hell

And bought back my soul

…Just 22 years old.

I’d tell her don’t slow down

It’s only just begun.

The Walk

I haven’t just yet.

But I’ve figured it out. And amidst all my worry and doubt a sense of relief lies buried beneath the rubble. Relief in the inevitable or what I deem to be decided. So much could be solved if I simply speak. If I articulated what I felt instead of waiting for words to fall into my lap. I feel the shift. The change in energy, and the looming threat of separation like a candle in the wind. I know it’s a matter of my own doing. I want you to speak, but who am I to demand expectation. The lingering thoughts in your mind, the content of your heart, all your senses and sensibilities, are yours to share, not mind to demand. Besides, I want you to want to. To reveal, confide and confess on your own accord. Because you feel safe with me. Because you find consolation in our minds interweaved. A knot in the thread is the only thing that seals. Let me be transparent, I’ll stop making excuses. I know my diversion can be worse than hubris. Sometimes I shy away from conversation, afraid of losing the illusion of control. Control of my fears, desires, secrets. Control of my philosophy, interests, taboos. I say it’s because I don’t want them to consume you. In part, that is quite true. Really, I fear that you’ll contain me. Whether you want to or not. There are depths behind your eyes that I can’t quite reach, but I feel them as if I’m slowly drifting into the deep. And with every glance in my direction that current is felt. I can tell you’re not like everyone else. So I hide behind base level vanities to shield my fragility. Deep conversations breed vulnerability. I know you want to go beyond the surface, ironically I want the same. My countenance may say otherwise, but really it’s all a foolish game. There’s much more to this, it’s worth the try. If it means I must lay aside my pride, then I’ll throw down my armour and look you in the eyes. No distractions, aversions of glance. I’m ready to talk if you’d still like to hear. Let’s go for a walk, you can lend me your ear.

An Instant

They say if you go looking

Be prepared for what you may find.

Disclosure to Ignorance is as Sight to the Blind.

Be prepared, you may just despise what’s on the other side

Selfish curiosity turned slave to momentary pride.

Many know that melancholy can be oddly pleasurable.

Emotional extremities euphoria made immeasurable

Tethering on the edge of intrigue and it’s addictive

My curiosity finds it’s way back rather vindictive.

Disrupted hypothalamus, now how do I trust

I have a habit of prying my eyes open even when they’re not shut.

Extending myself, tearing through thresholds to see if new ones emerge.

The masochist in me says submit to every urge.

Usually I resist but in my moments of weakness

I’m left looking at the monster I’ve willed into existence

The thoughts go everywhere. Fugitives I’ll never find

Such an ugly use of an otherwise beautiful mind.

Call it brutal imagination. I still wonder why we do this.

In the ebb and flow of life

Some things remain superfluous

All I can do is wake up, make a change

See if I feel a difference

I’ve outgrown the myth of the Path of Least Resistance.

The sleep of reason doesn’t care either way,

So I soldier on in the dawn of a new day.


Oh I feel ravenous.

I lay myself in front of you

Ready for siege

My defences are down

And I prefer it that way

Ready to be conquered

Ready to please

Spread wide as far as the eye can see,

You survey the land so perfectly.

I wonder to myself,

How can I be so deep?

You’re far too good at digging

The harvests that you reap

Sewn by every seed,

These threads are now undone

I’m bursting at the seams.

It’s getting late

And the symphony still plays on

Your pen is mighty powerful

The way you write these songs

Penance for my sins

You could right my every wrong

Iron firm grip around the reigns

I have no choice but to ride along.

I love to play,

He’s so good at games.

He loves a wild woman,

I love how he tames.

But he’s always prepared to reignite the Flame

Just in time for

me to send

down the


Colour Theory

he speaks in colours

and he goes to my head.

tender yet brute

his touch paints me red

leaves my skin burgundy,

true premier cru,

a man so gentle

somehow so cruel.

when I’m waiting by the phone

his silence stains shades of blue.

and I fade into grey

the saddest hue,

if only he knew,

if only he knew.

I long for his embrace

like the perfect brew

warm brown arms

to keep me grounded

firmly in place

entangled at the root.

I give you my eyes

to travel through,

a sunset haze to gaze into

for you I’ll be an orange moon.

let down your walls

trust and believe,

here in my room you’ll

find your peace.

just lay your head upon

my chest,

fields of green

where you may rest.

Thank You

If the unendurable is truly the beginning curve of joy, perhaps my salvation is just around the bend.

If the edge of sadness descends into the pit of a new dawn

Does my former self die to be reborn again ?

I’d like to shed my skin,

Reveal the vessel beneath this weathered


As skin reveals bone

Surpassing my idea of self.

Avatars are deceiving

And many I have deceived.

Nothing here is good, nothing here is clean.

So patiently I wait to be remade again

Perhaps my salvation is just around the bend.

Pandora Speaks


So she turned to him, and with a slight grin upon her lips she told him her truth. The whole truth and nothing but. One has never witnessed such honesty, spilling out of her mouth like water from the Chalice Well; it engulfed him from every corner. She could not contain it. This was her time to be heard, and I must remind you how rare it is in this life for a woman to be heard.

“Woman like me can never love and be loved in return. It’s always one or the other as our role permits. These men do not love me. I know I am a commodity , and the day I’m not desired I fear the walls of Jericho have been struck down. I was pure and good once . But the passion of the brute has dug it’s dirt ridden heels into my body, too many times for its mark to fade. I’ve given my passion time and time again for nothing in return. Nothing substantial. No permanency. Just a brief moment of feeling wanted and evading the curse that is loneliness . I feel so lonely after, and a little less complete. A little less whole . A little less me. I do not love these men. They would never take me home to their mothers because I’m tainted to them. Not worth a family or a household. Yet women like me are the ones they yearn for when they lie next to their wives at night. Oh the things they say! “You’re the only woman that can satisfy me.” If only they knew what it was to be satisfied. You see there’s these men. But then there are the others. The poor earnest souls. The tender cavaliers who dare to take a chance on tortured women such as I . Who choose to look past the snicker and whisper of the town. Who defend our honour against a world that says we have none. And, if they’re really foolish, dare to propose. To take to the alter one they wouldn’t allow through the church doors. These men are far too kind and therefore too good to be loved. I want to love them . I really do! But I would never allow myself to get so comfortable. He thinks he can handle what is completely irrational. I know it will become too much for him. You can’t possibly have these feelings reciprocated from a woman whose perception of love, has been completely distorted. He’ll be frustrated every time he looks into my eyes, broken little stained glass mirrors, and wonder why I won’t allow him to love me. And I just might love him, I just might do. Alas, I’m incapable of showing it. Throw me around, do your bidding, let the rage of impetuous lust erupt then retreat back into its corner. It’s all I’ve come to know and all I can allow . Anything else is unfamiliar— and far too scary . Remember, I too was once pure and good. I’ve forgotten how to dream. It is precisely because of this women like me can never be loved. I’m content living a life confined to brief intimacies and fleeting moments of inclusion. I hope you understand. I pray you understand.”