The whites of my teeth show happiness I think. Everyone's too vacent to notice the big sink hole. Sinking down a deep hole maybe it's my life goal. Happiness is my biggest mystery And I wonder, was it really ever meant for me? See, I never understood how anybody could be so delirious, mysterious is … Continue reading Did you notice?
Writer's block, blocking my brain, my thoughts, my creativity. You, you are the cause for that I’m sure, board of it, of you, writing about you and about our love. Stuck looking back just so I can look forward. My project is a curse, therapy I never signed up for. Easy or so I thought, … Continue reading The Book – ghosts
Time passed, the space between us in bed got smaller, my heart got warmer, but my mind was still out of the game. We lost some pieces of the puzzle in the rebuild and as hard as I tried I just couldn’t find them. Love existed but my mind wandered, I became vacant and mentally … Continue reading The Words – hypocrite
I remember her holding me in the car park of the gypsy caravan site, strength on her face but heartbreak in her eyes as she told me how much she loved me. I couldn’t hold them back any longer and they began cascading down my cheeks, I watched my mum grow smaller and smaller in … Continue reading The Story – keeper of secrets
We never did get it right did we? yet you are still around, looking back at the jumbled history that is us, it's hard to put the pieces together, harder than all the rest. Maybe we were too complicated to comprehend? maybe there is just too much to remember? my mind presenting memories like a … Continue reading The Story – separate tracks
I remember calling my ex that day for an explanation, I needed to know why he played his part, what was so bad about his current relationship that he would risk ruining not only his but mine as well. His fella had found out too and walked out, I stayed. looking back now I’m not … Continue reading The Story – mr. bump
We are all living and breathing writers, we are writing our life stories every single second that we remain alive. The story is our own, we own it because we live it, we love it and we hate it and we chose it, we plant the seeds and we water them, some grow and others … Continue reading My Story Is Mine Alone