Conglomerate Softness

Conglomerate softness
Plying blissfully the scars off my wounds
An addictive activity with bleak endings
Leaving a small dent on my skin soon
A memento of this visit
Comforting words and faces explain greatly
The niceness in which days daze away sadness,
So I savour this.
A kiss of kindness disguises itself in the random acts of allegiance
Only friendship commits
On the edges of wit,
And the brinks of sanity
I treat my own mind with such levity that fails to address the subject topic.
One day I’ll get past this
Like the seasons which pass by the skies like temporary trips
Staying long enough to make you feel sad when it’s gone
But hopeful that it’s not lasting
Bombastically feeling nostalgia for everything.
The world makes me happy
In the way that happiness only exists within this realm
The only one we know
And for every day that I grow I show the fruits of my labour
Flavouring the air with words that fall out my mouth like crisp apples
Perishable but delicious and nurturing,
Though this apple tree can’t really fend for itself
It has gardeners who defend its’ health,
And I am so grateful
For this help to grow,
Hopefully through these fruits
I can show you
as well.

SOMETHING DIFFERENT; Feelings of the Day: Thank you for helping me feel again.

There comes a time in life where after a horrific break-up of some kind, you fall back into patterns and motions. Your life becomes a series of routines that make you feel like you’re on auto-pilot for most of the time. The days become shorter because the nights are longer, and you find yourself smoking a cigarette outside on an abandoned picnic table, wanting nothing more than to feel the wind cut into your skin amidst the solitude.

Then winter comes, and the cold numbing feeling on your fingertips and toes start to trickle into your heart, and you realise that the burning furnace of passion that used to drive you has extinguished.

And it’s fucking terrifying.

Of course, you’ll still have friends and meet new people, constant reinforcements of very brief happiness that nights of drinking and talking will bring, but at the end of the day, there’s an overwhelming sense of apathy. It’s much harder to admit that you’re not actually sad; you just feel like the world around you is going at a pace that you just don’t recognise, nor do you really even care that you can’t fit into its’ rhythm anymore. You’ll try to join activity groups in attempts to feed your boredom, only to know that once the event is over you’ll feel incredibly alone again, so it’s not even worth it.

But then, you meet someone.

You meet someone who feels the same kind of mundane existence. Who’s also lost their sense of purpose. They are only too familiar with the efforts to feel at home in a country that isn’t their own. The fact that they’re willing to share their worries with you even though you have only just met makes you feel privileged to see their vulnerability. In that, you find solace that there is this someone who exists, and if you happen to have a tonne of interests in common, a new sense of elation takes over you heart. In time you’ll see that you cannot get enough of them, because they know of this indie band that no one you know has ever heard of, and you can’t help but feel just a little bit more gratified when they laugh at your jokes.

Eventually, you’ll start to think about them a lot, and start to notice just how intensely beautiful their eyes are. Staring into them would be like swimming in a luxurious pool of mysteriousness, and you love to take the occasional dip into someone’s soul. The world looks a bit brighter, and even though the frost of the weather might make your hands feel tight and raw, a cup of tea with them is all that you need.

You’ll tell your friends about them; how there’s this amazing person that you never knew existed who makes you want nothing more than to talk into the night about everything. You’ll do double-takes when you walk around, seeing the features of their face everywhere, only to discover inferior doppelgangers. Everything you find amusing will be screenshot and documented because you want to share the things that light up your life with someone who lights up your life.

Soon enough, you’ll realise that you have a crush, and the expired membership to the world of love-fantasies suddenly will be renewed. Poems explode of your smitten heart, as the words start to come out like mushy-gushy cheese worthy of a pop song. You will tell people about your re-discovered optimism, who will point out in delight that you’re no longer deeply unsatisfied with life.

And though you might know that this person could potentially never feel the same way that you do, you’re just completely thankful that they were there in the right moment and the right time, opening up the bit of you that was starting to completely shut down; cultivating the withering flower of your heart back to full health, even if they didn’t mean to. Most of all, you thank them so fiercely from the inside of your mind, hoping that they might know; all these emotions inside of you were just patiently waiting for someone like them to allow growth again. As much as it would hurt to hear rejection of some kind, it’s just simply sublime to walk around with a little bit of liveliness in your step. Something from what seems like a past life.

So, to the person who inspired this article, I can’t help but say, “I have to thank you for helping me feel again.”


Another appearance I make here
Refreshes my lenses for memories askew
I came back to the place
I thought I’d known
And what I know now-
I knew.

Never changes, this place
The storefronts are course
The streets are repaved
The old man, still hoarse

Renovations are made
The essential’s the same
Though from here, I came
It’s like I never left

I can call this my home
Yet hear the discord
I never belonged
And I feel no remorse

I cannot feel safe
The confines of this land
Anxiety fuses with sand
Filling my hourglass

I am different
No longer satisfied
No longer ignorant
No longer tolerant
Of how things are run here

Yet I,
Tumbling around
Oceanic waves
Pushed lunar and seismic
Barely keeping me sane

Sea water makes me nauseous
Makes my eyes tear up with pain
The saline, it burns
And I pray for the rain

It is here I step onto
A piece of small sea glass
Seeping smooth sensuality
Something cloudy and comforting.

It is but a mirror
Of what I see here
I shall keep this eroded shard
Ever so near

Where my heart never was.
Nor will it ever here, stay.
I hold it to my chest,
Continue on my way.

Fill in the Blank

It is what is said in the silence
A paradox of meaning
Interpretation abuses overthought
Saying nothing
is saying everything

Forces you to read between the gaps
Between the lines
Looking for other signs of sensory evidence to reduce the suspense that lingers after uncertainty
All that what you see or seem
Is almost never what it is

That’s why a cold shoulder hurts more than the frostiest winds
Is it spite or anger?
Is it fury or contempt?
Wondering forever
Forever suspecting
What that glare or stare
Actually meant

That’s why a loving look
Can border on romantic
For not even Descartes could tell you how to distinguish loves
particularly dramatic
Is this a gaze of desire,
Or compassion?
Or empathy?
Just, look at me,
Secretly thinking
Yet walk away

still looking
I’m hooked on something.
Perhaps you’re lovely
I’ll make you lovely.

How do
see silence?

Pregnant with bursting potential…
To be

ILY (i love you)

It’s funny how easy it is to say “I love you.”
For me it’s a physical strain to actually utter the words.
I am careful with what I do with them since I feel they have a very real impact.

As if in saying them I add about 10kg onto their chest and now there’s the burden of carrying that around.
but I suppose they do that happily.

The weight of the words has always affected me
When they’re said I feel punched in the stomach
Like when you’re hugged a bit too hard and your rib cage is crushed

But it’s a painful sort of love
Like when you’ve got a really big crush on someone
And the butterflies in your heart turn back into caterpillars
Stuffing emotional overflow into cocoons
And feigning normalcy to disguise internal insanity

For some people it rolls off the tongue
Because it’s been doled out the same way to them
For me I did not get it so easily
I thought that love was what it was when people gave me things
Thought it was something else entirely
Through actions I believed it fervently
So maybe the words shouldn’t be enough.

And that’s why I don’t say it back as fast as I should
I suppose I imagined a more intimate moment
After gifts exchanged or sentiments expressed
Then those three words would emerge
Usually I need time to mentally prepare
To stiffen my abdominals for the phenomenal event
I need to be ready to receive the hit
So that I may be ready to give it right back

But I’m afraid.
Afraid that my reciprocated words will be blocked off
Like a lame right hook right into the trunk of a tree
And the pain in my right hand will only teach me
That my broken fingers are in vain and that you don’t actually love me
Cuz those words can be cheap like crappy chocolate for 33p
And even then the chocolate is better cause at least…well, it’s chocolate and that makes everything better…most of the time.

I hear them said everyday
From kind strangers who speak so openly
As if love is a free piece of candy that they’re handing out on the street
Or from sassy people who call each other “honey”
Or from those who admire some other’s audacity
Seeing me wear cat earrings, someone once told me
and I couldn’t feel at ease.

And maybe love should be a simple thing
And I shouldn’t think so much about words like these
But it should be sincere at least
And that’s all that really matters to me.

So I make sure that every time I say it
It is coming from the core of my soul
That my love is transcending from every fiber of my being
And that my words aren’t worth shit Sainsbury basic chocolate
But at least a love heart piece that says
“From Me”

I’m Wobbly

​dedicated to my wobbly friends and my wobbly heart ❤

I’ve grown accustomed to instability
I’m wobbly
And wobbly people walk like penguins
With anxiety

We look ok
We look just fine
We still ramble on with the hands of time
But the truth is
Deep down inside
A pendulum swings
Between blurry lines

Increasing angst
Frustrations tense
Pass this fence
Pressure immense
To act ok
In the end
We are still pained this way

Afraid of where the knives are kept
Afraid of events
That came and went
Afraid to mention
Afraid to vent
The tension builds
Breaking and bent

Then to defence
Movement erect
I don’t want you
To see me like this

I excuse myself
Despite wanting to spend the day with people
There are too many persons in my brain right now
The ones who cry wolf
The ones who scream with tears
The ones who emphasise despair
permeating constant with fear

To those I find dear
I can’t look
I leer
To mask the uncertainty
I may tell you the truth
But the truth isn’t clear
Even to my vision
I thought my sight was near

I need time to regroup
My mind overworked in hyperdrive
Not enough storage
need a factory reset
To restart
And cry

But if you tell me to just get over it
To just “get better”
I just
Might throw myself
Into the deep end

I’ll get better
At dodging
Your questions.

I’ll get better
At hiding myself from those who don’t understand at all
Because the pressure to “be better” makes me worse

You can’t rush these things
You couldn’t tell someone to just “get over” their broken leg
My mind is broken from trauma
I don’t even know where it came from
All I know is I need crutches
I need friends
I need trust
I need love
I’m wobbly
And wobbly people walk like penguins with anxiety

So walk with me
Tell me everything will be ok,
And some part of me
Will start
To believe it.

Favourite Poem of the Day (Month): The Earth and Her People by Janina Degutytė

To us you are as indispensable as bread,
A sky-blue well of never-ending life,
A shelter built of birch or cypress logs,
A mother and a child to us you are.
And we so often kiss you and we curse you,
We are so ruthless
and so kind to you…
We are your dust, we are your soul and body
With all the imprints of the twentieth century.
We are your living joy, your living sorrow,
We are your honour, also your disgrace…
Enveloped in an apple-blossom veil
And laden with a load of bread and honey
You’re flying to the Sun you cannot reach
But which is to be reached by us –
your restless dust, your soul…
…You, Earth, are an eternal song
and mystery to us…


I’m going a little bit crazy about Eastern European poets ❤

Autumn Stupidity

I can feel myself falling in love with you
Even though I promised myself I wouldn’t
I can feel it in the hugs I give
I can see it in my stupid smile

I can feel myself falling fast into foolish rhymes
Pertaining to the colour of your eyes
I would’ve thought myself wiser
But I am a master of disguise

I can feel myself falling in love with you
Perhaps because I see you falling too
I see you falling for your actual lover
Yet I fall even though
That fact
Is true.