Adrift – A poem

Maybe I’m a drifter
Drifting

I’ve seen so many drift

Yet
I let them

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The ways a place can hold you

There are different ways a place can hold memories. Sometimes you see them and other times you feel them. It might be just a breath, other times the feeling can consume you. But either way it moves you and either way it’s there.

Sometimes it can be like a waft of familiar perfume that makes your heart skip a beat. Or it’s like you travelled back in time and you’re no longer standing there but surrounded by your past unfolding in front of you. As if your soul escapes your body for a moment and the only thing possible for you to do is stand there and feel it.

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Sometimes I wish I could be like a tree – a documentation of growing pains.

Sometimes I wish I could be like a tree.

If I were a tree at least I’d know my purpose (or I wouldn’t know I had one).

But instead I’m here, not still but not moving, questioning…

Who am I supposed to be?

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My front porch – A poem

Whenever my breath feels stale but I need to breathe, I sit on my front porch (preferably in the early morning But sometimes afternoon) Only when it’s sunny (Usually I have to squint my eyes but I don’t mind) It cleanses me in a funny sort of way (Even when it’s loud with endless planes…

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Everything that’s left

Journal entry: 14/9 | 9:27pm Yesterdays are only mixtures of memories and maybes. Maybe I’d be happier if things had been different. But maybe I wouldn’t be me. I try not to regret. I try not to let all the stories that fill me, consume me. Time is only the rhythmic in and out of…

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Grey skies and no rain – A poem

This is one of my favourite poems in my new book, ‘Messages in Bottles (hoping happiness replies)’. By the way, it’s not actually about grey skies or rain.

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Time spent still – A poem

There is time spent still
And time spent running
You are still
You are quiet

You are in between
You are a breath
You are fresh air and petrichor
You are an escape

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Last night I turned into a mermaid

Last night while my eyes were closed, I turned into a mermaid. It all started on a fairly regular day when my family and I decided we wanted to try out a new place to eat, specifically to try the breakfast sandwich on their menu. It had a name I don’t remember, but there was…

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Used to – A Poem

I got used to the way
The wind in the chimneys
Sounded like ghosts.
You get used to all the things
That scare you
Disappoint you
Hurt you
When they’ve happened
So many times
Yet got no further than
The fright
The disappointment
The pain.

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