settle your stomach

settle your stomach

as we lie about

the how

and where

and for how long

but not what,

we always knew there was something –

we didn’t care what it was

as long as it was there.

I settled on your stomach

laughing about

the mess we have created

with our dishonesty

while your laughter

shook our skin

so that pieces of memories

fly in every direction

discharging our obligations –

if we cannot remember

our love

if we cannot define our feelings

maybe we never loved

maybe we never felt

at all.

what love can be

on this colour-palette of paper

let me try to paint a picture of love

to the soundtrack of drums

and the intoxication of feeling young

and knowing that the summer comes


they kiss beneath the stars

they don’t know who they are

but who they want to be and what they see


an impish smile that warms the night

a hand to hold just for a while

until that while becomes a life

and that life is lived in the pursuit of light


no one knows when lovers will meet

or how serendipitous or sweet

no one knows how souls collide

or what makes a groom and what makes his bride


we know that when two people walk the same path

when they play music

create magic and make each other laugh


when they commit to one another

and fit into each other

then they become believers and friends

and family and lovers


but love cannot be explained with words alone

it is not a parable, a story or a poem

it is not a grey-scale poet

and a pot of ink

but a choice you make on the journey home


love is a picture of your creation

it the hues and the tones of your elation

it is yours, it is unique

it is the soundtrack of your heartbeat

it was formed in that moment your colours collided

your future revealed in the light it provided

Old messages made new

One day you may find this message. Just know that today you were forced to find strength that you never knew you needed. Life is never simple. It is lonely. It is surprisingly unhappy, even when it looks like it is on the up and up. Remember to keep climbing. One day you will read this message and it will tell you to look behind you. Only when you have seen how far you have come, will you know what strength it took to get here.

I wrote this message in my diary, to give me strength and hope. When I wrote it, I knew I would need it. I recently found it. I have needed it.

Be who you seek

How lost we are in these melodies

Never to be repeated

What truths we seek in the defeated

In words depleted of meaning

How weak, how weak


With crying voices we speak to the unopposed beats

Obstructing our philosophies

Seeking our victories

In the defeat of others

How weak, how weak


Be strong when you speak

The power is in speech

Reach for others only when you’ve found truth

Find your feet before you help others

be who you seek, be who you seek

You hold guitars like they are offerings

A well of words

which spill over troubled bodies

a deluge of whispered sounds

which soothe thirsty skin

soaking the silence with quiet messages

which swell the heart


Your music touches minds

with lullabies of good intention

with fingers that seek wounds to heal

and fill crevasses with emotion

and flakes of skin


You hold guitars like they are offerings


Your gift is incoherence

a dam that breaks with joy

your water brings comfort

a place to warm bodies

a place to meet friends

and pay homage


Yours is a place upon which stories grow

on which to build homes and dig moats

in which to hold the waters of your words

it holds back enemies, our memories

it saves us from ourselves

Pale Blue Mornings

We sit across from one another

our wares laid bare

by our ineptitude for words

I recite poetry in my head

about your premeditated eyes

and how they look on pale blue mornings

when voices are murdered

I have tried for knowing you

you’re incapable of secrets

especially those you wish to keep

(A wish to belong)


We lay across from one another

our ineptitudes laid bare

while we try for secrets

I recite poetry in my head

to silence the gaps

Silence is a secret you told me once

now it belong to us

on pale blue mornings

Across spaces where we once tried to find each other

I feel our ineptitudes most distinctly

We live so that we might die

There are rules for this life, I know. There are ways of being. I have chosen my way. I am 28 now, but I won’t resort to clichés about how old that makes me. I am as old as today, as the time I woke those few minutes before my alarm beeped its unpleasantries, until this moment when I drew these thoughts towards me. I am not afraid of this life.

I am not afraid of getting old, because I know that my mind will adjust with these changes. It is only when I go back to the place where I grew up that I see how far I have come, or rather how far away I have gone. I walk streets and know memories; know who I was and what I did once. I am not that person and perhaps I never was. How can we really know ourselves when we change so quickly – our skin cells shedding en masse, as much as our memories do?

It does not matter what you did to me. The beauty of age is the art of forgetting that one learns, or perhaps the art of beauty is forgetting how to learn, because we love most that which we know. You only matter to me if you are present, if I can remember the colour of your eyes and know the smell of your breath. You only matter to me if what I feel now is dependent on you. I have only fond, fleeting glimpses of time’s past and I am happy to live by remembering to forget.

There are rules for life. They are scattered around the internet as a means to feel better about oneself. They contradict and confuse more than they help. Don’t pay too much attention. Truthfully, no one can show me how to be happy, not even me. I am what I am. I just have to trust that with sadness comes happiness and that I won’t feel that same way for the rest of my life.

I am no longer afraid to be alone. I have to trust that statement. I have to believe that my purpose will become clear in time. My life is endless, boundless, an eternity, because tonight I will close my eyes and today will no longer matter. It makes me invincible. Let go. Trust in growth, trust in time.

We live so that we might die. Our certainty comes from death, our uncertainty from living.