My work 

someone asks me who got me these flowers; winding soft promising petals, crushing and breathing and blushing under my reverent gaze....

after beach house :) i look into eyes to watch myself watched ; to watch myself grieved, thieved, tortured, taken away. that’s it with...

i feel like a small naive child sometimes, looking up with wide sad eyes and tired hands. could you read my poetry? walking alone into an...

i loved a girl who thought that womanhood was to be missed by the moon that all the waxing and waning and tidal shifts and monthly nausea...

water drums against the edge of my senses like freedom knocking at the bathroom door. i will remain here for a moment. whisper prayers...

in emptiness is the lips of a statue, carved engraved birthed from stone. primordial and proud; enticing and seductive leaning over my...

creativity crawls into my arms like a tired dejected child and settles her head in the crook of my neck. forgiving, tired fingers rake...

yet they flow away from me all the same. i measure time by the moments i sit still. i measure time by my moments alone. reflections of me...

my shape keeps changing in ways i cant understand. my necklace broke, right in my hand, right in my sleep, left in my hand left hand //...

summer visits me in the wistless promise of spring; childhood follows behind it like a charmed lover. i stand with bated breath at the...

i have very very shaky hands sometimes. and a very shaky relationship with some lakes. there’s a little part of my heart that always...

it is a rare moment; cold tiles warm water, shampoo in my eyes, stinging sometimes i put my hand in the water; burn left sing(e) right...

the first of january, at some point in the d(r)ead of night, turned into the last of january. january is like august in some ways; a...

january is cold in a way december never was. my fingertips are alight; i trace the world and find no beginning and no end. sometimes you...

i have been 18 for 3 months now. am i meant to know by now? stumbling through time as though i took a wrong turn on the sat nav - when...

i have spent months with the hands of desperation around the base of my neck. asking for breath; a slow death. a slow, tired, sad death....

looking back on this year has been quite a journey. i had a particularly difficult time in the first half. i often do not share my sadder...

have you ever walked backwards out of a party? it’s how i’ve pictured growing up. smiling and laughing to the last moment, not wanting to...

if you put your cold hands against my skin, tuck your fingers up under my ribs and pull, tell me what you would find. don’t you already...

i’ve tried so hard to write this poem, to show my love, to keep my promises. the words haven’t come to me. i asked the stars. i’ve only...