My work 

there’s something very perfect and silent about myself. there’s places in my mind that are just for me, and they are my favourite. i look...

there’s a muscle in my jaw that ticks like a clock, and ink under my skin that crawls out through my eyes. i am suffocated with poetry...

my rain, my lovely rain. i have stood here for all time and my legs have never faltered. my blood is cold and warm, and i peak my head...

i paint myself with memories and promises. what a privilege, what an honour to be loved. what a privilege to be known at all. what a...

i am gentle with myself. in the dimension between sleep and wake, my words cannot stop. in my sleep, my words cannot stop. writing is my...

i write about delicacy and i write about breath. i write more than i ever have. my fingers intertwine with shadows. i lay on my bed in...

the kindest, softest parts of me are the ones that i love the most. soft and delicate, yet strong. winter is in my blood, winter is my...

weight on my left hip, leaning all on the counter, i watch curls of steams twirl out of my tea. i rub my knuckles along the seam of my...

rewriting a poem again?????? yes guys lol. some poems i read after months and cry at how lovely my words are and others make me vomit in...

time is obsolete ; i am every moment i have ever dared to breathe into. i meld from second to second , action to action, floating...

i do not desire existence, i crave it. conversations with her and the universe remind me i am real. holding my own hand and finding my...

suffering didn’t suit me very well. torture was baggy around my waist and agony was ill fitting around my legs. i sacrificed beauty, i...

december, my love, you are so dear to me. i will sign my letter ‘much love, your love’ because you love me even more than i love you. i...

rain lulls me to sleep. i hope i don’t bore you reader. every poem is the same?

i will be (delicate) and soft handed forever, gentle and ambiguous. forgiving and soft, giant and loud. i will take up unlimited space...

moonlight shifts in my window; i stay up late with warmth and a few songs. if i tilt my head back at the right angle, i can see the moon,...

the air smells like rain; a precursor to my peaceful nights. i wonder if every broken heart has started to forget me. i hope i fade away...

angelic shadows are so much brighter in the night. i study the geography of constellations on my skin, in a room full of moonlight. my...

i close my eyes very slowly before i sleep, i let them slide shut; i let them drift down and settle. what happens behind my eyes is...

i wrote a poem on a post-it note and lost it somewhere. the lines floated away from me and some part of me wanted to let them. the...