the effort halved

your head placed naturally on the pillow of my lap, it's cramped (with crumbs and coffee stains) but we make-do, being each others' lucky coin or soft toy rabbit. the train, it's going faster now, it's chaotic and we share one set of lungs. breathing amongst foreign character is more comfortable when shared. it sounds… Continue reading the effort halved

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This Beating Shape

One year encompassed by my heart strung across Paperchase postcards; a tangible copy of my soul, now sat waiting in your College pigeon-hole.   Legs intertwined amongst our make-shift bed of blankets and last night's sweat and lust. With you, lust isn't temporary, lust is sick to my stomach, a comforting nervousness. The way your… Continue reading This Beating Shape

No, I’m Gay (A slam poem)

Hi, my name is Lu- Wait, it's not like you care. You've already made assumptions based on my hair, Both the length on my head and what's down there. For my sex life, my body image is clearly your business, broadcasted news. If you can convince me it's a phase, for it's God's message (well… Continue reading No, I’m Gay (A slam poem)

She’s

Her eyes are a marble collection of rainbow hues, fabricating past mistrust and apprehension, into a revised perspective.   For she now carries her coat, her mac, her jacket; no longer a protective cape, but kick-ass costume. She’s colour, an orbit of Crayola; strides of smashed kaleidoscope; her glass half-full. Painting her former demons onto a… Continue reading She’s

Different perspectives excercise

Mid-thirties I’d say. First thought was married, only there’s no ring on his finger. His lips, pursed. Eyes scanning the menu. All an act of course, he knows the ins and outs of the thing. Probably too much. You know it’s mostly ready meals, but keep it quiet mate. He’s here every week yet he… Continue reading Different perspectives excercise

Break Up Writing

She did that thing with her hair. Twisting it playfully around her finger like a loose thread. In the same manner she did on our first date. It used to be endearing, flirtatious even, but right now it’s pissing me off. It’s too dark for her pasty complexion. Once, it shone caramel; the colour, contagious… Continue reading Break Up Writing