What I Owe To No One

What I Owe To No One

This might be a year of firsts;

the year I learn not to shrink

into a space neatly prepared for my heart

since I am a privilege

and not a ‘one size fits all’,

that even good things can fall away

and words left unsaid

are a bottled scent left on the doorstep,

a perfume I can’t wear anymore,

pick my power up off the floor,

feed on its potential,

adore myself.

This Year I Will Listen To Soul Music

This Year I Will Listen To Soul Music

At 2pm, last year breezed past me, out the door,

gracefully granting next year could plant her seeds

before sunset, steadily watered with liquid gold.

‘Hey Jude’ playing over the speakers

and I bless the drunken singers, warbling chorus

enough to cover for our quietness

as we stand there, feeling the corners of our lips

curl up in the sounds of silent serenade,

whilst tiny songwriters etch lyrics into our retinas,

signalling how these soft notes might look good on us.

Raw Soup for the Skin Soul

Raw Soup for the Skin Soul

Pain pitted me to the post, and in defeat

I drag these heavy limbs across the finish line.

Body battle-worn, at loss

with how to rise from this crumpled pile.

The devil’s flames lick my feet

yet here I lie, stone cold,

crowds hurling their hurt in oblivion

to the collected suffering we already carry on our collective shoulders.

But carry on, we do; and if I have to crawl

over shards of broken glass with a broken heart

I will get us through;

the world has good in her yet.

She promised me once, and I hold her to it,

joy wins the war in the end.