Dirty Love

Original Poetry

Let me touch your face, follow the outlines of wrinkles still yet to form.
I’ll trace my name over your heart so when death reaches us, we won’t be apart.
Let me whisper a thousand love stories in your ear
that would outrage our grandparents.
Pretty whore.
I’ll memorise your body like the favourite book you are to me,
so exciting, thrilling, tempting.
Dirty love.
The best kind.

A Waltz of Shivers

Original Poetry

On an autumn morning when the sun is just beginning to rise,
and mist still suffocates the air with its veiled blanket of moisture,
a chill caresses your body as you are exposed to the raw cold.
This feeling of goosebumps crawling across my skin
and shivers waltzing down my spine
is sort of how I feel when I’m around

Oh, My Love

Original Poetry

Oh, my love,
if ever you feel like stars do not quite
shine bright enough,
or the sea is too deep for you,
or you are suffocating in
the silence around you,
remember me.
For I will risk all I have
to rescue you.
I will paint the moon into the sky,
just to see her reflected in your eyes.
I will help you swim, and I will
keep you afloat even when you tire.
Oh, my love,
remember me.
Remember that.


Original Poetry

Silence deafens me,
but at the same time,
all I can hear is your voice.
You’re everywhere and nowhere
with intense destructive capabilities.
I cannot escape you,
nor do I wish to.

Leaders Of The Wolf-Pack

Original Poetry

on the sunrise.
He was going to kiss me,
but it didn’t feel real.
His hands on my back,
we were leaders of the wolf-pack.
When his lips met mine,
we knew we’d got it right.

Predator and Prey

Original Poetry

The setting sun,
the shining stars;
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
A hand on my back,
A stroke of the neck,
A love affair between predator and prey.


Original Writing

The ocean finally calmed and you came out with scars coughing up memories. The branches you clung to while you were being tossed through oblivion had thorns, leaving gashes in your hands while you clung for life, scared to go too far under. And blood and water caressed your lips, like the taste of his kisses when they came from a mouth that shot bullets disguised as words. But you survived. You survived the hands pulling you under and the currents pulling you every which way.

Honey-Dipped Eyes

Original Poetry

When sadness was the sea, you taught me how to swim.
Waves and waves of you now crash into me.
Yet, somehow,
serenity can only be defined by
living in your honey-dipped eyes.
Serenity can only be described
as you.