fear of something
August 3, 2025
it is a fear of something,
of anything,
of everything.
we wake up with fear.
fear walks under our skin
and slips through our body
like a snake.
you are fragile like
a sheet of air.
Tag: creative writing
imperfect, mortal daughter of men
August 1, 2025
imperfect, mortal daughter of men
fright, the madness of the blind,
the rag of the wind,
the muzzle of cold,
the knife of silence,
the stoning river.
a viper with a child,
the agony of an ox,
a witch on fire,
a stained rose.
my notebook
July 28, 2025
the words that sing
in my heart, and
vibrate through
my bones,
they live and hide
inside my notebook,
like buried treasure
left behind.
this morning
July 27, 2025
this morning
i hear the frogs again.
birds and insects
join them in song.
these things hold us
up in life, things to write
and draw and observe.
the things for us to
walk amongst.
safe
July 25, 2025
ππ ππππππ ππ πππππππ
π πππ πππ ππππ,
ππππ π πππππ ππ πππ π ππππππ
πππππ π πππππ
π πππππππ π πππππππ ππππ.
ππππ πππ ππ πππ ππππππ ππππ πππππ.
πππ πππ πππππ π πππ πππ
πππππππ ππ πππ πππππππ πππππ
π πππ ππ’ πππ.
ππππππ ππ ππ πππ ππππ,
πππππππ πΆπππππππ πππ π²πππππ & π·πππππ.
π ππππππ πππππππ ππππ ππ’ πππππ’
in ππ’ πππππππ, π πππππ πππππππππ ππ
ππππππππ πππππ ππ ππ’ ππππππ.
if
July 23, 2025
if more people valued home,
if more people followed their childhood dreams,
if more people could sit and be,
the world would be a merrier place
i believe.
handstands
July 21, 2025
i used to do
handstands,
all the time
and watch TV
upside down,
feet propped
against a wall,
or inside the
door frame.
the world looked
better that way.
everything made
more sense to me
with clutter free
ceilings.
they sailed away
July 20, 2025
eventually,
they all go,
one by one,
like paper boats
in a downpour
towards a drain.
along the gutter
they float,
effortlessly.
until they
disappear.
and you wonder
why they went
like that, and
what you did
so wrong.
inside of nowhere
July 18, 2025
inside of nowhere
i stood, wandering
whilst wondering what
it would be like to
stand amongst friends
and whether i even had
any. feeling more alone
in a crowded bar than
sitting by myself in my
armchair watching the
birds and feeling the
morning chill on my skin.
memories grow wild
July 16, 2025
they wore flowers in
their hair and beards.
the grasses beneath our
feet quickly trampled flat.
i laughed along with them
but the man in front of me
could not see for a time.
memories have a tendancy
to grow branches longer
than their roots,
they invite us to climb and
explore until we ourselves
become entangled and forgotten.
THE LONELY WHITE WOLF 