Calisa

Dominica

17| Just a dreamer who exists solely in her words because the real world is too damaging of her fragile nature. her biggest dream is to escape her tiny island and let the world read her works

Published Work

A Bird with Wings

My Best Friend Wants To Change The World

My best friend and I always talk about how we're going to change the world. We joke about taking over and making it in our own image. But we know we can't do that. So instead we talk about backpacking across Europe and Asia to learn new cultures and adopt new languages. We talk about going to Africa to reconnect with those ancestors who were stolen away so long ago. So we could listen to the songs the land would sing so we could feel some connection to those roots. We were uprooted and forced to adapt to a world that was unnecessarily cruel. And people may pretend like it's not cruel anymore and that we're accepted but that's false. Because there are always those who feel like we have no right to be among them. I tell my best friend that I would never want to be one of those who gets treated in such ways. We call ourselves...

Flash Fiction Competition 2020

We Hid Our Love In A Photograph

A photograph contains all the love that two girls shared. It had been years since they existed on this planet but their story was newly rediscovered. At the end of Wallow Lane stood a house that had been abandoned. In renovating the house, a photograph of these two girls was found and it was like they existed again. The photo was taken the last time they saw each other. Before they went their separate ways to die. Casualties in games they didn't ask to play. The girl with the darkest black hair and the girl with the lightest blonde.

Flash Fiction Competition 2020

We Hid Our Love In A Photograph

A photograph contains all the love that two girls shared. It had been years since they had existed on this planet but their story was newly discovered. At the end of Wallow Lane stood a house that had been abandoned. In renovating the house, a photograph of these two girls were found and it was like they existed again. The photo was taken the last time they saw each other. Before they went their separate ways to die. The girl with the darkest black hair and the girl with the lightest blonde.

I Need A Pack Of Highlighters

There's a pack of highlighters
That sits on a geometry set
It's in my sister's bedroom
That I'm not allowed to enter.
It's strange that it's all I can remember
About a room I fell asleep in before
But that pack of highlighters
Is the brightest thing in there.
I don't think she's ever used them
Because they're all covered in dust
The geometry set has not been moved
In almost four years. 
The last time she used it
Was probably when she got it,
At just 18 for an important exam.
They both sit on a ledge
Bathing in the dust of the world
Probably covered in cobwebs too,
I would never touch them.
But I need some highlighters
And I have none of mine.
I should probably go get it
But it's all dusty and that makes me sneeze.
And I'm also not allowed
To step foot in her room.

I Need A Pack Of Highlighters

There's a pack of highlighters
That sits on a geometry set
It's in my sister's bedroom
That I'm not allowed to enter.
It's strange that it's all I can remember
About a room I fell asleep in before
But that pack of highlighters
Is the brightest thing in there.
I don't think she's ever used them
Because they're all covered in dust
The geometry set has not been moved
In almost four years. 
They both sit on a ledge
Bathing in the dust of the world
Probably covered in cobwebs too,
I would never touch them.
But I need some highlighters
And I have none of mine.
I should probably go get it
But it's all dusty and that makes me sneeze.
And I'm also not allowed
To step foot in her room.

from a girl who made a home out of you

To The Yellow House I Spent Most Of My Time In,

You were always yellow to my knowledge. You were always there. You had that bunk bed and that flat-screen television but before that, you had a huge piece of my childhood.

I remember when all the kids were there and we would have the time of our lives. We would come to visit and we would have so many laughs and the fact that they're gone now is heartbreaking. I have vague memories of playing power rangers in your yard. I have memories of playing shop with cousins that weren't actually our cousins. I remember us all piling onto beds so we could all spend the night. I have this one memory of waking up and a cousin was watching Barbie. 

There's that one time we decided to climb the cherry tree by climbing the roof. Everyone was scratching after that. But we made our juice. That hammock that...

from a child who felt at home in your arms

To The House I Grew Up In,

I visited you a couple weeks ago, or maybe it was months. I can't seem to keep my days straight anymore. The outside looked different but it wasn't such a major change that I didn't recognize the place I grew up. There was still that gate that faced the street that we would tire ourselves out on. The house was still painted the same colour and the same number of windows were there. But the flowers at the front were missing. Those hedges that hid the front yard from the outside world, they were gone. They were gone and I didn't know when they disappeared. There weren't any flowers outside the fence surrounded by rocks anymore. Maybe it's because she's dead. She was the one who planted all those flowers.

But I was fine with those simple changes because everything else seemed the same. It still seemed like that house I grew up...

The Wind Is Angry Tonight

The wind is angry tonight
And the stars went to hideaway.
The sky is pitch black tonight
The moon has disappeared for now.
The wind is angry tonight
Whispering its troubles to us.
The sea is preparing  tonight
And the people have gone to sleep.
But I am still awake
And longing 
For the wind to calm,
The sea to give its final cry 
And for the stars and moon to come home.
But alas that will not happen
Because the wind is angry tonight 


The wind is angry tonight
It sounds like a shrieking child
Pleading for those awake to listen
And those asleep to awake.
The wind is asking for our help
As it tries to knock everything down
Because it’s like a scared little child
All alone and hurting.
The wind has given its last cry
As it strips my night sky bare
It has given its final warning to prepare
As it rears up the sea...

Letter Writing Competition 2020

Hoodies, Brownies and 'Sad Girl Hours'

Lindsay,

It's July 8th today. I write this date like it has some significant meaning when it doesn't. Dates mean nothing to us. We don't even care about the days we were born. There isn't going to be my normal spiel of questions about your well being because I know you're fine. Out of the two of us, you're the one who is always fine. I guess it's because I've suffered more trauma that I'm mostly never okay. I will tell you that I miss you though. And there isn't anything I miss specifically, you just always had this way of getting through to me and making me feel at peace. I haven't felt at peace in months. And I honestly don't know what to do about it. I wish you were here right now with me to review my current WIP or to take stupid pictures of me and edit for fun. I wish I had our phone in...

Letter Writing Competition 2020

Hoodies, Brownies and 'Sad Girl Hours'

Lindsay,

It's July 8th today. I write this date like it has some significant meaning when it doesn't. July 8th is just another date because those mean nothing to us. There isn't going to be my normal spiel of questions about your well being because I know you're fine. Out of the two of us, you're the one who is always fine. I will tell you that I miss you though. And there isn't anything I miss specifically, ou just always had this way of getting through to me and making me feel at peace. I haven't felt at peace in months. And I honestly don't know what to do about it. I wish you were here right now with me to review my current WIP or to take stupid pictures of me and edit for fun. I wish I had our phone in my hand right at this moment so we could listen to your 'Sad Girl Hours' playlist....

4 a.m. conversations when sleep evades me

But I wanna run away. I wanna go to a mountain top and scream to my heart's content. I want to sit with my best friend and eat ice cream as I shed all the tears I've held in. I wanna lay in bed with someone I trust with my whole heart right next to me as they tell me everything will be okay eventually. I wanna live a life that makes me feel like I'm actually alive. I wanna be hugged like I'm worth something and like I mean something to someone. I wanna be loved and cared for and not just abandoned when someone better comes along. I wanna be free from blame and arguments and scars. I wanna take a walk with my best friend or go on a hike or go to the beach as we fool around. I wanna have a picnic as we talk about everything and nothing. I wanna be kissed like I'm...

A Sense of Familiarity

The sweat poured down his back as the muscles in his legs ached. It was a familiar feeling that scared and comforted him. The familiarity of his movements soothed his aching bones. Yet, the reasoning behind these familiar movements kept a cold grip on his heart.

He stumbled into the trunk of a tree and his palms roughly connected to the base.

He didn't pause for one second. He kept going. Only an idiot would stop to nurse the cut.

The wind was rushing against his sweaty skin as he thought of a way to heat up his freezing cold hands. The circulation seemed nonexistent down there.

He shoved a branch out of his way with his palm, ignoring the stinging pain. Not caring that his blood got left behind, he continued with his quick movements.

He would succeed this time around. He was determined.

He heard a whistle in his ear and he dove to the side. He heard...

Letter Writing Competition 2020

Hoodies, Brownies and 'Sad Girl Hours'

Lindsay,

It's July 8th today. I write this date like it has some significant meaning when it doesn't. July 8th is just another date because those mean nothing to us. There isn't going to be my normal spiel of questions about your well being because I know you're fine. Out of the two of us, you're the one who is always fine. I will tell you that I miss you though. And there isn't anything I miss specifically, ou just always had this way of getting through to me and making me feel at peace. I haven't felt at peace in months. And I honestly don't know what to do about it. I wish you were here right now with me to review my current WIP or to take stupid pictures of me and edit for fun. I wish I had our phone in my hand right in this moment so we could listen to your 'Sad Girl Hours' playlist....

RED Stains

I left my mother a note taped to my bedroom door. I was apologizing for the ugly sight in my room. Seeing red everywhere isn’t exactly a nice sight. It clung to the carpet in a desperate attempt at having a life but I know mother is just going to throw it out. No one likes a red-stained carpet.

I left my sister a note telling her about her favorite shirt. I know I shouldn’t have worn it that day because now it’s covered in red and I deeply regret it. It’s buried somewhere in the laundry. I don’t think mum threw it out. It isn’t that ugly.

I left my best friend a note on her phone. I was telling her it’s okay that it doesn’t come off. I was always told that red stains. I mean that is a fact. Red leaves a stain behind and no matter how much you scrub it refuses to get off your...

Excerpt- Here's To Everything I Didn't Say

I never properly understood the concept of love. It was something no one could properly explain. In asking my mum once, she told me that love was admiring all the little things he did. She said it was wanting to be in his presence all the time and when the two of you finally separated, you felt devastated but hopeful because you knew that you would meet again.  
I asked my grandma once and she told me about her friend Lila who kept forgetting her husband was dead. Every morning, she would wake up and prepare his usual cup of tea. She would set it in its usual spot, on the little blue table, in the kitchen and wait for him to come back from walking the dog. When he didn’t her eyes would fill with tears and she drank his cup.  
I asked your mum once. My mum scolded me for that. She whispered to me that there were...

Write Whatever You Like

They told me to write whatever I wanted and when I did they judged me. They said it was too sad. They said it was boring. They said no one would relate to it. So they deleted it. They tore it up. They threw it in the trash. They said it wasn't worth the read. So I told them to buzz off. I told them I wasn't looking for their validation. I liked what I wrote. I related to it. I wrote it so because it reflects who I am. They then told me that I wasn't sad. That I wasn't boring. But they don't exactly know me do they?

Writing Streak Challenge Week 8

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 1

The torments of the past are simply meant to strengthen you for the war of the future

Writing Streak Challenge Week 8

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 1

The torments of the past are simply meant to strengthen you for the war of the future

Writing Streak Challenge Week 8

Writing Streak Week 8 Day 1

Walk with a crown on your head pass all the people who belittle you

4 a.m. conversations when sleep evades me

But I wanna run away. I wanna go to a mountain top and scream to my heart's content. I want to sit with my best friend and eat ice cream as I shed all the tears I've held in. I wanna lay in bed with someone I trust with my whole heart right next to me as they tell me everything will be okay eventually. I wanna live a life that makes me feel like I'm actually alive. I wanna be hugged like I'm worth something and like I mean something to someone. I wanna be loved and cared for and not just abandoned when someone better comes along. I wanna be free from blame and arguments and scars. I wanna take a walk with my best friend or go on a hike or go to the beach as we full around. I wanna have a picnic as we talk about everything and nothing. I wanna be kissed like I'm...

vow

It was in 2015
What a beautiful year
When I stopped caring
And my heart gave up
The exact date
It escapes me
But on that day
Something broke
Within me
It was in 2015
When my tears fell
And you touched my shoulder
And that made me cry more
But it was in 2015
When I was only 12
That I promised myself
That I would not waste my tears 
On things that didn't matter
It was in 2015
Maybe in April
That those words were seared into my mind
It was 2015
When I last shed a tear

 

all those nights

Those stupid arguments
That rang through everyday
Over things that never mattered
Just a few hours later
But it left a scar on people
And they'd never forget them
As the screams could be heard
From every inch of the house
And the kids with the sensitive ears 
Will hear it the best
And they'll whisper to themselves
"I'll never be like her
When I grow up"

Why Should I Love My Name

Why is it that I hate the way my name rolls of the tongue? I hate the way it gets pronounced so much. When my best friend is mad and he says my name I just want to curl up and die because it's saying so much. When my mother calls out to me and she says my name I just want to block my ears and scream that isn't my name. But I can't do that because it is my name. And when my teachers take attendance and they call out for me, I want to just run away because they've taught me for so long yet they still get it wrong giving me variations that aren't even mine. When my uncle tries to discipline me by saying my name I just want to tell him to leave me alone but that would be rude so I bite my tongue. And I can't really explain the feeling of hating...

To The Woman Who Loved Me

I sat down to write you a poem
To simply express how much I love you
But my mind drew a blank
And I felt immediately guilty.
Why was I unable to
Come up with the words to tell you
How much I appreciate your presence?
I don't understand why I can't thank you
For my love for reading and writing.
For giving me life
For giving a life
For giving me dreams
For giving me friends
For giving me  a hug
When I need it.
I can't seem to thank you
Because I'm what you call 
Selfish
Ungrateful
And maybe I am.
I'm not one to express things
Just for the sake of it.
I like hidden meanings
And words you don't know.

I like mind games
And having my way.

And while writing this
I still tried to think of a way
A way to say thank you

For never letting go.

You would let me go off...

To The Girl Who Fears Her Spark Won't Ever Return

To the girl who hasn't been herself lately
One day...

One day maybe soon or not
Your spark will return.

Maybe it will be one morning
You'll wake up and love being alive
And you'll ring your best friend
And just smile because it's been a while.

Maybe it will be one afternoon
You'll be finishing up a shift
You'll remove the apron from around your neck
And then you'll feel so content. 

Maybe it will be one morning
When you wake up next to a random person
And you'll laugh at the things you did last night
Because you realize it will be alright. 

Maybe it will be one evening
Where your friends kidnap you from your dark bedroom
And they shove you into a car
To go cruising into the night
Around your tiny island
With an admiration for the stars.

It doesn't matter in what moment
You find the want to be alive...

...just know that the...

A Second Apology To An Ex Love

She looks at the blue hoodie hanging behind her door and her eyes fill with tears. An apology that wasn't accepted had broken her. "I apologized to you once before and you didn't accept it. Instead you walked away." She wipes at her eyes and fiddles with her necklace. "I'm sitting in bed right now. I have Back To December on blast and it just reminds me of my birthday last year. Take me back to that day in December when you gave me chocolate and I ignored you after. I just walked away and I apologize for that. I didn't speak to you at all. If I could go back to that day I don't think I would change anything but I would apologize when I got home. I never meant to ignore you all those times I did. That time when you asked me out and I said yes then just ignored you. That time when you told...

To All The Girls

To the girls who liked a guy who didn’t like her back
I’m sorry
You didn’t think it would turn out this way because you guys had a connection
He was everything you wanted him to be
He was there when you almost cried yourself to sleep.
I’m sorry that he let you go because he couldn’t see how great you were. He didn’t appreciate the girl your mama said would one day run the world.
To the girls who let go of the guys who loved them
Don’t play games hun, I know you loved him too.
But emotions are funny things and you didn’t understand them at the time. 
You packed your bags and moved out of that little apartment you guys shared sitting on top of that Chinese restaurant.
You took a bus and moved back into your old bedroom at your mother’s house.
You’re sitting on your mother’s couch crying now wishing you were with him.  ...

We Are Meant To Fall

We are all meant to fall.
Now I’m not talking about falling in love. That is not what I mean.
Well I mean that too but it’s not all I’m talking about.
When I say that we’re all meant to fall I’m talking about that time I fell off the stool that day in the lab. 
I’m talking about that time I fell from my bed and used my hand to catch myself and my wrist now aches every time.
We are meant to fall out of trees and break our bones. 
We are meant to fall down stairs and get a couple scrapes.
I mean that we are meant to fall while running and start bleeding a deep red.
When I say we are meant to fall I mean that every time he looks at you, you just melt.
You fell for him in a matter of days and you just can’t let him go.
We are meant to...

My Friends, My Friends

My friends, my friends
Forget me
Don't remember me as the girl
Who spoke too loud
Don't remember me as the girl
With the saddest smile
That you never seemed to recognize

My friends, my friends 
Forget me
For I am broken and bleeding
And singing a song
Of my tarnished youth
A song that none of you
Should learn so soon

My friends, my friends
Forget me
Remember me not
With tears in my eyes
And a smile painted to my lips
As I spoke words of beauty
That meant nothing to me

My friends, my friends
Remember me
You didn't know me all that well
So you'll remember an empty shell
My smiles and eyes
My words so bright
My friends, my friends
Don't forget me

An Apology To An Ex Love

She walks up to the podium with her fluffy blue hoodie and a tremble in her hand. “Good morning,” she clears her throat as her voice cracks and she wipes her eyes. “Hello. I was never one for apologies really because I always believed I was never in the wrong. This time around though I feel I was in the wrong maybe because I didn’t explain myself properly. I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone really. Well I knew someone would get hurt and I expected it to be only me. I was talking to a couple of friends and one told me I was being selfish holding on to a guy I loved when I was in love with someone else. She told me that would hurt him a lot more than anything I could ever do to him. I realized that she was right about me being selfish so I decided to let him go. I didn’t let him...

The Girls Can Be Monsters Too

They would catcall us 
So many times a day  
And we’d just ignore them 
And laugh lowly to each other 
Because we were taught young 
That it’s another thing boys do 
That is deemed acceptable 
 
But our mothers would tell us 
To ignore their calls 
Because we’re not objects 
For them to play with 
They’d say that if we don’t ignore 
They’d call us nasty names 
They’d call us things 
To tarnish our fragile reputations 
 
Some things mother never taught me 
Are the things I could use. 
Don’t talk to the boys 
With wicked gleams in their eyes, 
They’ll spread rumors ‘bout you 
And make you want to die. 
 
Don’t let your friends fall 
Prey to their smiles, 
Because not even you can save them 
After the boys have caught them. 
My mother never taught me a lot, 
But she warned me about the girls; 
 
The girls who aren’t your friends 
But they’ll pretend 
To give...

The Girls Can Be Monsters Too

They would catcall us 
So many times a day  
And we’d just ignore them 
And laugh lowly to each other 
Because we were taught young 
That it’s another thing boys do 
That is deemed acceptable 
 
But our mothers would tell us 
To ignore their calls 
Because we’re not objects 
For them to play with 
They’d say that if we don’t ignore 
They’d call us nasty names 
They’d call us things 
To tarnish our fragile reputations 
 
Some things mother never taught me 
Are the things I could use. 
Don’t talk to the boys 
With wicked gleams in their eyes, 
They’ll spread rumors ‘bout you 
And make you want to die. 
 
Don’t let your friends fall 
Prey to their smiles, 
Because not even you can save them 
After the boys have caught them. 
My mother never taught me a lot, 
But she warned me about the girls; 
 
The girls who aren’t your friends 
But they’ll pretend 
To give...

To All The Boys Who Were Told That They Aren't Good Enough

“To all the boys who were told they aren’t good enough. Take this from the girl who believed that you were not good enough. You are filled with big dreams and brittle smiles. Your eyes are covered with tears yet they tell you it’s not okay to cry. To the boys with dreams inside the heads, it’s your time now to give them hell. And when they start laughing at you, just turn your head because you are better than anyone who laughs at you. And if you ever fall in love, ensure that you tell her she is good enough. Because girls never understood what you say without words, yet they never use words to tell you how you make them feel. And when she asks you to describe the color of her eyes, it’s her trusting you with everything she ever had. So just remember to make them seem like the most beautiful thing. When she tells you...

I deleted Your Story And I Regret It

I have a secret to tell you.

I wrote you a story once. 

You're probably not shocked by this though because I've written so many stories you say I can't remember where the inspiration came from for each. But I remember. I remember writing that story for you that late night when we debated where you would fit in my story. I remember being so sad that night because I knew for a fact that you weren't going to get a good position in my story. And because I knew this, I decided to write to you your own story.

After I wrote it I was going to send it to you. I swear, I was going to. But maybe the tears were too much in my eyes and my glasses got covered and I accidentally hit delete instead of send. For the first time it wasn't a sad story.

It was the story of a best friend who held...

Something About Galaxies

I remember the first time we met back in May. I had so many secrets clutched tightly to my chest before you convinced me to let them go. You had a way of convincing me to let go of all my troubles and worries. You always convinced me that you would be there.

I believed you. My mother called me a fool for putting my faith in a man. She said you would eventually let me down. And she wasn’t wrong; you let me down a number of times but you never hurt me. She probably wished that you would so I would stop putting faith in a lesser being than her god. But I never lost faith in you.
On our first date you brought me a bunch of lilies. During one of our many conversations preceding the date, I had bashed lilies so many times. You promised that you would help me see the beauty in them. Eventually...

I deleted Your Story And I Regret It

I have a secret to tell you.

I wrote you a story once. 

You're probably not shocked by this though because I've written so many stories you say I can't remember where the inspiration came from for each. But I remember. I remember writing that story for you that late night when we debated where you would fit in my story. I remember being so sad that night because I knew for a fact that you weren't going to get a good position in my story. And because I knew this, I decided to write to you your own story.

After I wrote it I was going to send it to you. I swear, I was going to. But maybe the tears were too much in my eyes and my glasses got covered and I accidentally hit delete instead of send. For the first time it wasn't a sad story.

It was the story of a best friend who held...

To The Girl I Told Her Skirt Was Too Short

To the girl I told her skirt was too short, 
Now I wasn’t trying to be offensive but I saw the way the boys looked at you.
I saw the way their eyes traveled up your legs
And the way they licked their lips.
They tapped their friends on their shoulders
And pointed at you
And they too gave you that look
Until you disappeared from view. 

A little while after, you walked by again
And a different group of boys 
Looked at you with a raw hunger in their eyes.
I tapped you on your shoulder and 
Told you that your skirt was too short but
You snapped at me and walked away.
Maybe instead, 
I should have warned you that the boys
Who linger around drank you up
With the thirst of a man in the desert. 
I should have told you how
They licked their fingers itched to grab on to your skin and
Leave a couple...

A Little Too Much Redd

Sadie Redd pulls the hood of her hoodie onto her head and holds on tighter to the basket in her hand. “I don’t understand why I had to do this,” she complains aloud, “Cassie was right there and doing nothing. I have a test to study for tomorrow and mum is forcing me to do this.”

She turns into the alley and rests her back against the wall. “Stupid grandma for getting sick. I swear she’s sick every other week so that means every other week I’m walking to her stupid little blue house to drop off food and medicine.”

“Talking to yourself girly?” A voice from further down the alley sends a shiver racing up her spine.     

Her head snaps up at this and she shakes her head. “Just thinking out loud.” Her eyes connect with chilling brown ones. He smiles at her expression of caution and exposes his slightly crooked teeth.

“So you on your way...

I Love You

“I think I understand you now.”
A skeptical look passed through his eyes. I wouldn’t blame him. I can barely understand basic algebra so it doesn’t make sense that I understand him.
“I know who you are. I know which category you fall under. I now know what makes you tick and tock. I know you.”
A laugh escapes him. “You wouldn’t be the first person to say that. You’ll say the same thing that everyone else has said and when I disappear, you’ll realize that you were wrong.”
I shake my head hard. “No. I know you. I figured you out.”
A smile touches his lips as he speaks. “Then tell me. Tell me everything you know about me.”
I inhale sharply because I don’t know him. I really don’t. I just needed an excuse to get him to stay longer. I knew me saying I loved him wasn’t enough. “You’re a pessimist.”
A flicker of annoyance clouds his...

Three Grandmothers

As a kid I had three grandmothers. None of them were actually related to me but they loved me like their own. There was Granny Lesy, Grandma Octavia and Gran Adelaide.

Granny Lesy lived down the street from my house. My mother would take care of the garden outside her house because she was unable to. Granny Lesy had lost a leg in an accident. In the same accident she lost her only child. She would tell me stories about the little girl she loved more than anything else in the world. Well she said that was until she met me. 
Granny Lesy called me a ball of sunshine. She said my very presence would light up a room and allow smiles to adorn the faces of every person present. Granny Lesy would always bake me the same cookies every time I came with my mum and by the time I was 12, when I would come on my own....

I'm Not Here

“The sound of laughter fades
and I am left alone
to grieve.”

He refuses to pick up the phone as it rings, instead letting it go straight to voicemail.

“Ciel? It’s momma. It’s about Maggie. I’m sorry Ciel.” The line beeps and the call is cut off.
He sits up from his bed and slowly walks towards his kitchen, frail fingers clawing at the wall for support.
His ears ring as he sits at the table and places his head in his hands.

Maggie was gone.

He stands up abruptly allowing his nimble fingers to hold onto the table as his head spun.

Not wanting to give the message from his mother much thought, he walks over to the fridge.

And that is when he feels it.

Her long slim fingers wrapping themselves around his waist as he reaches for something in the freezer.

He can almost hear her laughter mixing with that of The Beatles.

He can hear...

we are the broken ones

We are the broken ones.
Those who were forced to keep quiet. Disciplined until they couldn’t move. We are the ones who were told that our dreams mattered not as much as what they had planned for us. The ones who were always promised a reason to cry.
We are the ones who stayed up late at night nursing the bruises and a bottle of alcohol to numb the pain. We are filled with bruises that are engraved in our bones. We have horrid words stemming from the deepest caverns of our hearts that don’t belong to us. 
The unlucky ones are what they sometimes call us. The underprivileged who were never given a chance to blossom. The uprooted the seed before we were given a chance to put down roots and sprout. We are filled with misery and pain.
We are the ones who know the rough caresses of a father’s hands. The biting sting of a mother’s palm....

In My Head

Uncle Danny got shot
He was on his way home from work
His car broke down so he had to walk
A cop shot him
Said he looked suspicious
At his feet where he bled out
Was the suspicious object broken in pieces
Too bad his little girl
Will never receive that music box he promised her

Neighbour Amorette is in pain
She just wants to be saved
The cops said it’s not rape
She confessed over and over
That he forced himself on her
They said it’s not rape
So she returned home
And her screams were heard
Because how dare she
Try to rat on her husband

Excon Tristan is sitting in jail
Because they said he was back to his old ways
Isn’t prison meant as rehabilitation?
A place for people to change?
Plus he did nothing wrong
And that can be proven
But they didn’t want to hear it
Because he already has
A reputation pinned...

Something About Galaxies

I remember the first time we met back in May. I had so many secrets clutched tightly to my chest before you convinced me to let them go. You had a way of convincing me to let go of all my troubles and worries. You always convinced me that you would be there.

I believed you. My mother called me a fool for putting my faith in a man. She said you would eventually let me down. And she wasn’t wrong; you let me down a number of times but you never hurt me. She probably wished that you would so I would stop putting faith in a lesser being than her god. But I never lost faith in you.
On our first date you brought me a bunch of lilies. During one of our many conversations preceding the date, I had bashed lilies so many times. You promised that you would help me see the beauty in them. Eventually...