i’d be grade 8

the tips of my fingertip- -toe against the base of your spine in a rhythm only we can spell out, our tongues drumming against naked skin. you count the freckles that burst across my cheek-bones, bones and flesh, one... thing singular, we've now become. a humming, a moan, you teach me to play the drums … Continue reading i’d be grade 8

to feel, to be felt

My whole life, I've been told I'm 'too.' Too quiet, too sensitive, too negative, Too much. Take things 'too personally', give too much, too soon   For years, I saw this maximum, this superlative, this giving my all as... a flaw. That I should seek limits, seek hindrance, in this world that speaks opposite, breathes … Continue reading to feel, to be felt

What I’ve Learnt Since Finishing University

I finished University in April 2018, and graduated in July. What I was massively unprepared was what was to come with post-university life, and how much I'd be faced with once I'd handed in that final essay and embraced what I initially saw as gold tainted 'freedom.' Although you're technically an adult, as far as … Continue reading What I’ve Learnt Since Finishing University

for the time being

The tip of your finger, your tongue, your eyelash outlines my silhouette in semi-permanent stain. I knew from the first touch you were, we were only temporary. Only. Not wholly. For the time being. But your mouth imprints my own and for something half-hearted and incomplete, you've made a home out of me.