this right here,
this scares me.
it’s happiness i hold cupped in my hands,
happiness that threatens to spill one second and fly miles away the next, taking along the heart i tied to it in hopes of holding it down
(this is new for me please excuse my foolish attempts).
you know, the probability of things going wrong at any point in life are at least 50%,
that you can only take so many risks
that the universe is naturally titled towards entropy
sparks fizzle, fires burn out
and even the sun is destined for collapse
until everything’s shrouded in darkness but the world has always been wearing a mantle of night ever since i can remember
so these tingling fireflies you awaken in the peripheries of my mind are nothing but temporary and when everything’s done and dusted
neither you nor i will remain,
definitely not this supernova between us that I foolishly cling onto in the hopes it will warm me
when probability clearly tells me that this is going to hurt,
that when it melts in my hands it will catapult me to the farthest reaches of the galaxy
that its tempestuous glory won’t save me from the way it will gently scoop out pieces of my soul and sprinkle them between the stars.
so when you ask me why i hide under the safe ridges of bar graphs and the comforting, but mostly, predictable curves of equations and decimal points
its because there’s a sturdy beauty in exactitudes,
they don’t betray me
and they don’t change their minds when things get hard
they don’t vacillate faster than i can keep up,
exhausting my eyes in efforts to follow.
so darling what can i say
it’s not you,
it’s me and the fear that doesn’t let me breathe
doesn’t leave me alone.
what can i tell you but that it’s hard enough chasing away nightmares of my own making because they know all my weaknesses
but it’s much harder letting you know exactly how weak i am because
there is no beauty in my frailty
just chaos and doubt
that won’t let me believe that this happiness i carry delicately between my teeth
might just stay for the softness in my smile
and that perhaps one day
i could show it all the ways the ocean commands itself from miles away
in the corners of my eyes and over the hollows of my cheeks
and we could brace these storms together.
maybe one day.
but for now,
it’s easier to unleash the storm in all its unadulterated fury and terrify you
so that when you leave
these fears will finally leave me alone and there will be no doubt for they’ll finally be put to rest by the conviction of their beliefs
and failure, too, is a decided if not desirable outcome.
i can calculate to three decimal points how much it will hurt when you leave
but i can’t calculate what happens next if you stay.
_______self sabotage is easier than vulnerability.

also like I have an instagram and I’d be honoured if you checked that out because I post most of my work there? There’s probably a link to it somewhere on this blog or something


Memento Mori

In the silence of the night, I hear nothing but my own feet as they crunch crisp autumn leaves. I wince at each sharp crack but there’s no helping it. Onwards I make my way through the silent woods, my breath condensing the air in front of me, the sound of each intake and exhale my only companion.
The moon watches me and I glance up occasionally, smiling at him. We’re friends, the moon and I. I think he knows what I hope to accomplish today and I cross my eyebrows at him and shake my head warning him not to tell on me.
I walk until my feet go numb, keep on walking until my mind is blank and I’m meaninglessly trudging through the darkness. At one point I think I hear something in the night but it doesn’t bother me. Perhaps it knows I seek deadlier game. Or rather perhaps it knows I go to meet someone scarier than itself and that my meeting is my security; it wouldn’t do to anger beasts greater than yourself. Sometimes there is logic in running with your tail between your legs.
I giggle as I contemplate this.
Suddenly I step into a clearing, almost perfectly circular as if someone meticulously defined its edges. The trees seem to have grown twisting slightly away from the centre, as if trying to distance themselves. Fog spills over the ground, creeping along ominously. There’s a sudden chill in the air but I don’t hesitate as I step inside the circle of moonlight and stride to the centre.
The silence seems to be thicker here, as if it’s separate from the world, as if I’ve walked off onto another plane in the universe. The prospect is fine with me. I didn’t plan on staying on that one for long anyways.
And then the silence becomes him. I smile because I can always feel his presence.
I invoke him. I know I do.
Ever since I was a child we’ve been playing this game of hide and seek, he and I. I know he taunts me on purpose, teasing me, drawing me out and I can’t take it any longer.
I stand there with my eyes closed, my face turned up to the moonlight cascading gently on my face. I’m smiling.
I bet I’m the picture of serenity.
What a sentimental kook, I think to myself as I fight the laughter this thought brings. And then I’m no longer laughing because I feel him as he steps into the clearing.
Death treads on light feet, years of experience aiding him. He is chaos, master of pain and rage and he carries it all cradled next to his chest like the souls he steals. He waits till the last breath is his and he leaves, no longer needing to be as silent in his departure as his arrival for it seems the household has awakened. And sometimes he draws it out, watching how it plays against his fingers, and sometimes he yanks. It’s all a meaningless game to him anyways.
I wonder how he’ll steal my soul. Will he draw it out? Will he be quick? Will our years of trysts mean anything to his millennia of existence?
My whole body thrums with the anticipation as he stops a few steps away. I wait. For that swish of the scythe, wait for the pain to blossom against my back, wait for that last drop of agony.
But the blow doesn’t come and I can’t wait any longer.
I fidget restlessly.
I’m contemplating opening my eyes and turning around to demand the meaning of this when I feel him step closer and I gasp as I feel his essence around me.
Im so so cold. I feel the breath leave my lungs and I’m floating. I’m eons away suspended between dark matter and I’m sure that if I stretch out my hands I can touch the stars etched on the back of my eyelids, I’m that close. I struggle to pull in air and there’s a furious pressure in my head and a jarring noise in my brain and I think my nose might just be bleeding but then he withdraws and my mind is void of everything for a second.
I stagger but catch myself before I fall. I feel his wrath and glory as he leans down close behind my ear, his breath warming the side of my face as he whispers in a voice born from insanity, ‘memento mori.’
And all is silent once more as he leaves in a gentle rustle of robes. All is silent once more, as I expected, but the silence is empty because he leaves and I’m still standing there, dazed and dumbfounded.
This wasn’t supposed to end up this way.
I can’t stop shaking my head.
He was supposed to take me along. This was not supposed to end up this way.
I’m angry.
I am fire as I burn in the heat of the promises I felt I was owed, the destiny I felt was mine, snatched from me. I am the night as I tremble and gather destruction to me, praying to the demons of the afterlife. I am the wolf as I vow my vengeance sitting there howling into the night.
I scream and scream until my throat tastes raw and yet I do not stop until I taste blood.
I touch the corner of my mouth, my fingers coming away dark and I see this and laugh. Silent and shaking, I laugh and laugh, the sound gurgling in my throat.
I raise my head and look at the moon with my soul in my eyes. Did you know, I want to ask him. I want to yell at his serenity, hate him for always watching and never doing anything. I want to hit something. I want. I’ve always wanted so much. But I can never have it. And I sit there for so long I lose my sense of time, just staring into the vast night sky, lost inside.
When I’m done I get up and dust myself off.
I start walking with cold eyes, my footsteps heavy with the weight of the retribution I feel I’m owed, I-
‘Katie.’ I hear hesitation in that voice.
I turn around and everything is bright. Im momentarily blinded. I blink as I see that wretched table and that wretched lady behind it, half sitting in her chair, hand still outstretched as if she made to move towards me.
I examine my surroundings.
It’s these goddamn lights giving me a headache. I’ve told them countless times to get rid of them. I rub the sides of my head.
‘Katie are you okay?’
I drop my hands and stare at her. I don’t seem to want to speak to her.
She regards me nervously. I can tell by the way she’s fidgeting she wants me to sit down but I don’t seem to want to. So I don’t.
She gathers herself and clears her throat, ‘They found you crying in the woods, trying to…trying to cut your own throat. Do you remember that?’
I cringe.
‘A nearby farmer heard you crying about how you weren’t strong enough.’
I smooth my face into blankness and shut my eyes and ears. I don’t want to hear this. She doesn’t know, none of them do.
He left me there. I squeeze my eyes shut harder.
He just left me there. But not for long.
I can’t help the smile that comes from this and I can feel hands on me, trying to stop me from not listening and I laugh because they don’t know.
They can’t make me understand if I don’t want to.
I’ll chase him.

Memento mori: remember death

the blight.

My brain matter is sticky and
entangled are a hundred different people,
millions of fractured thoughts,
the sludge of wonderings I don’t need,
anxieties I shouldn’t have,
it’s all stuck with me and I’m peeling apart my scalp
because maybe if I could reach it, I could get better but
brain matter is all over my fingers, spreading,
trying to cocoon me alive
and I’m crying tears of frustration and fear
because I don’t think this will ever leave me alone,
and I so desperately want it to leave me alone
because I’m sick of reaching out for a better life
only to be brutally yanked back so that it
forever lies just beyond my reach,
tempting and taunting me
so when you asked me why I can’t just make it stop,
why I can’t just stop thinking about it-
as if it’s that simple-
why I can’t let it go and why on earth
I can’t just get over it all
please believe me when I say I’ve tried.
____you asked me to try harder and I had no answer.


the world has always been
shrouded in darkness, the galaxies
are entire masses of empty voids and
universes ravaged by black holes that
consume the impossible and threaten to
rip apart the very cosmos and
are the clashing of fires that burn so hot
they freeze and the scattering of
stardust and exploding galaxies;
yet you wonder at this
consuming intensity in your soul?

of growing distances.

I’m doing what’s best for me but
what’s best for me is toxic for you;
I guess what’s best for me isn’t really the
best for you,
but won’t you ever wonder
why you’re no longer the best for me anymore?
I changed,
but that’s what people do,
why didn’t you call it growth and
most importantly why didn’t you
grow with me?
-I guess the only option left was growing apart.

a promise kept.

was always falling apart, you
just never saw how the effort of
keeping myself together tore me apart
and I
painstakingly stitch myself together
because you don’t deserve the
pain I carry cradled next to my chest
but I
walk around with veins running on empty
because 365 days of simply breathing
will never equate to living;
you made me promise
I’d keep breathing and so
I did;
you never asked me to stay
alive, and so
I didn’t.

Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa

Yesterday they took me backto the hospital and I thought of you
(I always do you know) 
I can’t tell you why I was there but I think it was something to do with you
or maybe that’s just me
and I’ve always been biased;
today they asked me why I am the
way I am and
I lied. 
I told them 
did this to me
and they tell me it’s like
cancer, it’s no ones fault and I
have to start living, 
but they’re wrong because
it’s not the same, 
there’s no day the pain ends 
and I’m pretty sure I
invited destruction inside me
because I loved how he played
with my demons but then he
they don’t know I laugh in the
face of adversity because nothing’s
ever made me feel alive and I
keep searching for something
that will, they’ll never know how 
hard I try, even if I chase 
all the things that are bad for me 
and they’ll never understand 
what it feels like to be so 
you’ll take anything you can get just to feel real again,
and they’re wrong because
it’s my fault 
and they’ll never know, 
it’s my hidden secret and 
I hope it can lure the Devil to come
play with me again