10 years ago I met a guy, we created our own version of heaven but then he left and being in heaven alone felt a lot like hell. 

So 9 times like a cat I tried to bring our love back to life. But he always chose her. 

Her with a body shaped like an 8 and some days I don’t blame him. Really.

But the heartbreak I felt then should be listed as one of the wonders of the world. Heck it pales them.

He said “I was young, I didn’t know better”

I said even 6 year olds know how sorry.

He said it and looked at me expectantly like he deserved 5 gold stars. 

All I really wanted to hear was that 4 letter word especially when its part of that over used 3 word phrase but like always it didn’t come.


Its 2 a.m. and instead of sleeping I am trying to convince myself he is not my the 1. And I’m failing miserably.


Dear Reader,

I apologise truly for the silence. Once again I find my thoughts reaching a dead end in the maze that’s my mind. So here is an incomplete poem which I don’t know how to end. 

I am leaves in autumn every time I see your face,

I’m still turning my demons into angels in lace

Or dust in a chalice.

I don’t know where I went wrong my love

Sometime between sixteen and twenty five

I lost my way, lost my drive.


​Depression tastes like wine left out in the open.

Frustration is like drowning in your blood, sweat and tears, on land.

Grief is all the almosts, could haves and should haves you cradle.

Anger is more like a storm; always leaves you wondering if its all necessary.

Happiness is said to be a baby’s laugh but I think it’s sitting in the afternoon sun and not asking why.

Loss is inevitable, almost anticipated, but still shocking.

Loneliness is comfortable. It makes you go to parties and find a solitary corner in the backyard. Its a darkness your eyes know.
Lust and rust are the same, it corrodes the soul.
Love is why we hurt. And hate with a passion that can burn the world and freeze the oceans.


He met Rose on the first day 

Pretty with frills and pink lipstick to go

Her laughter brought out his

He plucked a flower and tucked it under her ear

It just felt right.
Catherine surprised him

Intrigued him, caught him offguard.

She had the ease of the river

the depth of an ocean

And the wit of a goddess 
Pessimistic Ann was his least favourite

She always had her brows crooked

Almost in the same way she viewed the world

He wasn’t sure she really liked him.
The day he met her 

Her name captivated him

She was gasoline to her own fire

He felt like ice; melting in her presence

But also like a candle; finding the lighter he so desperately needed.

Bookshelf inside my head

My head is full of stories 

Stories I pretend I made up
Because that’s the only way I can live in this lifetime.

Like that night when I was 8 

When you came to my room and told me it would hurt

But I shouldn’t tell because that’s what family does

I died with every push that night.
Or the Day my Mom died

I prayed day and night for her to be healed

I was only six and I believed our prayers got answered

My faith in God changed that day.
Remember Aunt Mary

She was sick for the longest

The day you went to the stores

She told me to bring her a glass of water.

I saw her take her meds. Or so I thought

When you came she was no more.
Did I tell you about my 14th year 

And how I cried myself to sleep every night

And my arms knew the razor blade too well

Looking back I don’t know why I was so sad.

Maybe it was the divorce and having to pick sides.

Maybe it was the whispers that Daddy wasn’t my father

Maybe I was just overwhelmed.

Latent Rapists

​Latent Rapist…for colored girls who have ever considered suicide (a must read excerpt)

Latent Rapists by Ntozake Shange

a friend is hard to press charges against

if you know him you must have wanted it

a misunderstanding

you know these things happen

are you sure you didnt suggest

had you been drinkin

a rapist is always to be a stranger to be legitimate someone you never saw a man with obvious problems

pin-ups attached to the insides of his lapels

ticket stubs from porno flicks in his pocket

a little dick

or a strong mother

or just a brutal virgin

but if you’ve been seen in public with him, danced one dance, kissed him good-bye lightly

with a closed mouth

pressing charges will be as hard as keepin your legs closed while five fools try to run a train on you

these men, friends of ours who smile nice stay employed and take us out to dinner

lock the door behind you

with fist in your face to fuck

who make elaborate mediterranean dinners & let the art ensemble carry all ethical burdens while they invite a couple of friends over to have you are suffering from latent rapist bravado & we are left with the scars

being betrayed by men who know us

& expect like the stranger we always thought was coming

that we will submit

we must have known

women relinquish all personal rights the presence of a man who apparently could be considered a rapist

Especially if he has been considered a friend

he is no less worthy of being beat within an inch of his life. being publicly ridiculed having two fists shoved up his ass

man the stranger he always thought it would be

who never showed up

As it turns out the nature of rape has changed

we can now meet them in circles we frequent for companionship

we see them at the coffeehouse

with someone else we know

we can even have them over for dinner & get raped in our own houses by invitation, a friend