i close my eyes on the walk home, warm may breeze brushing its fingers through my hair, and gently closing my eyes. but that’s all right. because i’ve still got half a coffee to finish, and nothing left to do this afternoon. it tastes so sweet i want to cry.

wrapping me up in its arms like forgiveness, sea-salt and caramel melting on my lips. and even though it’s over now, it’s i’ll still trace the lines of scars on my skin; spend whole afternoons learning to copy them out by memory.

and what do you do, when every drop of nostalgia is poisoned with spindle-sharp cotton candy? when every embrace takes you back to grass-stained jeans all alone? ’cause i don’t have a fucking clue. but maybe that’s okay.

i’ll sit in my ignorance, like a cheap blow-up pool. i’ll cut my hair, i’ll make a friendship bracelet. i’ll take off my shoes, and wade in the water until i get cold.

i’ll hold your hand for just a moment, before it overwhelms me. i’m not used to being loved this way, rosewater and malt. i’m still learning to be soft, to let i love yous flow freely off my tongue.

and it tastes like sunscreen and sweat, as i press my lips to the back of my palm. but that’s okay. ’cause the blood will dry, and the scars will sink in. i think i’ll mount them in the portrait hall, and tell the world that i have slayed my dragon, for once and for all. i’ll take my victory forgranted for one more afternoon, and doesn’t that sound perfect?

So, this is very self-indulgent, but it’s finally warming up here, I wore shorts for the first time this year a few days ago, and I’m allowed to be ridiculously self-indulgent from time to time. Humour me.

In all seriousness, I’m constantly trying to give myself permission to write happy poems–not just the depressing ones. I don’t know, sometimes you just need to romanticize the little things in your life, and pretend you’re the protagonist in an animated movie, and I think there are far worse coping mechanisms in the world. So, I don’t know, go out there and like whatever the hell you want to! Have a good time! Be creative! I don’t know, it’s really late at night and I’m in a weirdly good mood, if I could shower the world in flower petals I absolutely would.

Lots of love,


third person

i narrate my life in third person, sometimes, when i need to get away. i paint myself a hero, a protagonist, maybe the villain on a bad day. and when it gets bad, at least it’s only ever in a controllable way. where i can watch from the sidelines, and think to myself wow, that was some compelling characterization, all right.

because if someone’s always watching, at least i’m not alone. and when i’m lost at sea, at least i know there’s always gonna be the three-act story structure to guide me home. to hold me tight, and love me to the bone.

so i close my eyes, and pretend this isn’t really my body, on the bad nights. when i can’t help but feel like the sky is falling down. i shiver, and i shake, and i pinch my wrists, waiting for the tornado to dissipate and leave me shattered on the ground.

i take one step back, and then another, until nothing makes sense anymore. and i’m a kid on the swingset, i’m strangled tongues and rusty verbs. i’m a picasso painting, but only the ugly parts. and maybe it’s avant garde, or maybe we’re just stupid. and we take ourselves too seriously, and we never call home.

we go mad for an abstract concept. for a chance to be remembered. and so here i am, staring down my demons the runaway. and maybe this is what destroys me, but goddamn, if they’re not something to describe. i make myself mangled limbs and traffic accidents, and i know that i’m not really fine.

but i am not going down with this plane tonight. i won’t let the cancer spread to me, along broken, dilapidated limbs of this family tree. i’ve come too far to give up this early. and god, it sounds pretty, doesn’t it?

like the first page of a brand-new story.


fade in: i’m the main character in a teen movie. and i live in a third person paradise, where someone else is always looking out for me. and i’m brave, and pretty, in an effortless kinda way. i stand up for what i believe in. i scream until my lungs bleed out. i make the right decision.

and when i’m lost, i dream of cityscapes, and burning nights, finger on the pulse. reminisce about the good days, when i don’t doubt these hands are mine. and when the world goes silent, sometimes i like to sneak out after dark, and swim across a monotone sky.

i pretend it’s bittersweet; make poetry from this bleak desert wasteland, but no turn of phrase will ever make it pretty. because death is not a friend, it’s not an enemy. it doesn’t give a shit. which is worse, honestly. because i swear, i feel it watching me sometimes like an unpaid debt. i think i’ll bide my time. smell the roses, and get old, or whatever people do.

but my wrists murder me, and the chords ring out fuzzy, the pasta boils over on the stove, and i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry. in my head there’s an angle here, a narrative, and as the world burns a part of me is already sitting at my desk, 1:25am, trying to make the lines fit together, like pieces in a puzzle. remember those?

remember swingsets and naivete, and whole world i can’t control? i don’t miss it. i just wish it was different, you know?

a letter to my younger self (spoken word!!)

So, I’ve been really trying to get back into making spoken word stuff again, and it’s been going well so far! This is one of my favourite poems I wrote of late, so over the weekend, I decided to record and edit it into this piece, and I’m super proud of how it turned out! I got really funky with the reverbs, and I can’t tell if it’s too much or not, but I had fun with it anyway. You can check out the original post here.

Oh! So, as I write this it’s actually really late at night on the 30th, but as you’ll be reading this, it’ll be the first day of 2021. Last year, I think I wrote a whole special New Year’s post at 1am, after consuming one too many sugary beverage, which undoubtedly aged like fine wine. This year, I don’t want to humiliate myself, should we have a second pandemic or something, so I’m gonna refrain from that. But anyway, hopefully 2021 will surprise us, and good luck, future-readers, with your first day of the new year!

All sound effects are under the public domain. Song is “Starling” by Podington Bear. It is found here, and used according to this license.

tomorrow (spoken word!)

Hey guys! So, this has been a long time coming, because I am the queen of procrastination. But finally, at long last, I present to you the “tomorrow” spoken word track! I’m really proud of this one, and I’m gradually accumulating footage for a video, which I’m hoping to put out soon, but no promises. (See the thing about procrastination.)

Honestly, working on this poem has been kind of a lifeline for me. It’s not been great in my brain of late–which isn’t abnormal, I always tend to get really bummed out around Christmas and New Year’s, and obviously everything going on in the world right now isn’t helping. So I hope this piece can offer you the same relief it gave me.

By the way, as I write this it’s the 21st, but when you read this it’ll be Christmas day. So if you celebrate it, Merry Christmas, and if you don’t, I hope you have a wonderful day. ❤

Lots and lots of love,


If you want to read the written version, you can find that here.

The backing song is “Aria” and is from It is under public domain, as are all sound effects used in this track, which were found on 🙂