I guess

I guess I am writing now, Words as they come into my mind As they arrive into my thoughts Almost as if they are being beamed there by an external force Ideas and memories are found.


How much water can be drunk in a day? Where does all the snow go? What should I be doing now? When will that personal statement be done? How much more pain can we endure? Why am I doing this to myself? Where do you want to go to uni? Can we ever go there…


I am sat here trying to write, Only finding myself unable to, Write write write, What should I write, What words lie inside me waiting to be freed, I want to find something that can be meaningful, Is there something, Is there something there at all.


We were waiting for our teacher Waiting for her to arrive Only to find out we’re having a break In which we need to work. I’d rather have a lesson.


A spine filled with pain A spine that clicks A spine that squeaks My spine.

Rocking has begun

I don’t usually rock, Chewing is more my thing,   Today rocking started, Caused by biology assignments, Chemistry is finished, I handed it in late last night. Breakfast was a banana, I’m yet to have a drink, The bottle fell behind the seat of the car, I could not retrieve it. Tonight I have 5…


November brings the winter, November brings stress, November is for Nanowrimo, November has come again.


My sorrow is worn like a cloak of midnight, Darkness lit with starlight, To lose the endless folds of night, I must abandon too, the stars, I know not how to leave their light, Attracted like a moth to a flame, The night grows comfortably around me, This cloak is my own, The tailor fitted…

Things will be fine

I feel anxious about the future. I feel anxious all the time. It pours into me Overflowing Spilling out into everything around me Surrounded by green lights softly Breathing as deeply as possible Things will be fine Things will be fine

The legs that I walk upon

The legs that I walk upon, Are very far away from the body they hang upon, My knees have begun to creak, So much that it seems like they speak.   I’m sure they have things to say, Like hey! Lose some weight! Okay! I can’t deny, That I’m not quite as spry, As I…


I am back at that bench again, Like a mirror, the surface of lake reflects, The ice is deceptively thin, Bulrushes standing as soldiers to attention, All around things are sleeping, In many shades of brown, they wait, It’s not quite time, Not time for the unfurling of leaves, Waiting.

The Sea

The sand shifts across the beach, Rolling with the tide, Down the shore and out of reach. Salty spray from foamy waves, Boats bobbing in the harbour, A fisherman mending his nets, This is all that he craves.