I’ve been so lost.

I’ve been drowning.

Not drowning my sorrows in a good bottle of Jack

But instead inhaling and exhaling the smoke God let grow

I don’t know where I am

I’m unsure to where I am going to go

and for once I can’t see my own future.

Its like water filling my lungs


Choking on responsibilites

my fear of heart break

my fear of never belonging

my fear of failure


I’m choking on anger.

Waiting for someone to help me breathe

but no one is coming.

Realising, that in this world you have no one but yourself

even the flower you helped grow will die

even the person who watered you, will die.

but anger.

I can die angry at the world.

The anger that corrupted my spirit, my soul

The pain I cover up with fists.

With yelling

With shouting.

Questioning why

why does it always seem like the grass is greener on the other side?

why does it feel like the world is crashing around me?

why does it feel like my poetry has no direction?

why do people hurt the people they love?

why did the world have to let my grandma die?

why couldn’t I stop it?

why couldn’t I stop it.

pain is just a consequence of love.

maybe I loved her too much.

maybe I needed her too much.

maybe I deserve to spend the rest of my life choking.




I no longer believe in things I cannot see.

that means that theres a lot of things I don’t believe in.

I lack faith. Religious guidance. Emotional support.

I believe actions speak louder than words

I don’t believe the words you say

the terms you use

the words you pray

the lies you create.

I don’t believe ‘I love yous’

I don’t believe in ‘I’m sorry’

I don’t believe in ‘I’ve changed’

I don’t believe in promises.

I barely believe in myself anymore.

I can’t see who I am anymore

All I can see is that I exist.


Blindness is a mental disease.

What’s the point of living

if you can’t believe

in the things you cannot see?


hopes and dreams

I have a lot of hopes and dreams

dreams of you near

hopes of you staying

dreams of your existence

hopes for dreams to become realities

I do a lot of hoping and dreaming

hoping you care

dreaming of love

forever hoping for dreams to become realities

because i want you in every reality

because I dream more than I hope

I dream of someone who likes the same tv shows as me,

someone who understands me,

someone who will risk it all for me,

someone who likes hot sauce on chips

someone who’s stars aline with mine

the comfort to my blanket

the seed to my soil

the hopes to my dreams.

Lottery Ticket

I would die for you,

take a bullet straight to my brain,

a knife in my chest,

lay down my life,

take my last breath,

venture into the unknown which is life after death,

if theres even a life at all,

let myself fall into the uncertain.

would you do the same for me?

would you take a bullet straight to your lungs,

a knife in your leg,

hoping for a heaven and even a hell.

its crazy.

absolute madness.

how certain I am that I would give everything up for you,

and how unsure I am that you would do the same.

it like buying a lottery ticket,

its like answering a 22 mark question and praying you got it right,

because in the end you either get what you want,

or you fail,

life is a gamble,

and sometimes it always feels like your losing.


There was a time,

when I thought I knew how much I meant to you.

Now it just feels like a knife in the back,

and a bullet to heart.


even now.

with everything I now know,

with all this knowledge I have acquired,

with a firm grasp on how much I mean to you

If the bullet were to fly in your direction,

if the knife was to pierce your chest,

if the angel of death was knocking on your door,

I’m sure,

that I wouldn’t think twice about my next move.



The Platonic Breakup

No one talks about a friendship ending.

No one talks about how its feels to lose a friend.

It might sound dramatic, a bit silly, stupid even. But think about it… how does it feel when you to lose someone that was so close to you? someone who almost felt like family? someone you thought was going to be there for all of your achievements and you for theirs? someone that you’ve known for years and was convinced they would be there for many more?

I was watching Sabrina Benaim spoken word poem called “On Platonic Love Being a Real Thing”. Contemplating what she meant, and how the universe somehow knew that I needed to watch that video at this very moment in time. Where I was starting to lose faith that people knew what true friendship meant. That I even knew what true friendship meant.

There is such heavy importance on when you breakup with your significant other. But everyone seems to dismiss the importance of platonic relationships. How they shape your views on relationships altogether. How they affect the way you love. How they affect the way you view other people. How it feels to breakup.

I’ve experienced many platonic breakups. It feels as if the older I get, the more painful they become. The more aware I become on how much I care about the people closest to me. Like any normal breakup, you consider why the other person doesn’t care as much as you do. Even though you instigated the breakup because you no longer felt cared for, listened to or respected. You thought… at least they would fight. To then come to the realisation that not everyone has your heart and not everyone deserves a space in there either.

How to deal with a platonic breakup is to allow yourself to feel hurt. Allow yourself to reminiscence. Allow yourself to be grateful. Allow yourself to stop being angry at how it all ended. Remind yourself that there are people out there that know and understand the true meaning of friendship. Remember that you don’t always need answers, sometimes it better to not know why.

Most importantly, you have learnt something. You have gained knowledge. You have grown and maybe the breakup was a message from the universe to remind you to trust yourself. To never second guess your choices. To remind you not to love less, but to love wisely.

To ensure that you will always value, love and care for the ones that stayed. Even when they didn’t have to.


At what cost?

Lately, as per usual, I indulge in the chaotic media. Bombings in Syria. Pulse. Manchester. A hung parliament. London attacks. Grenfall Tower. Race politics.

I wonder at what cost?

How many lives have to taken away for people to tap into their morale, for people to tap into their hearts and realise this isn’t right? Its always those lowest on the social ladder that feel the consequences of those above them.

Victims. We are all victims. Victims to the system and its values. Victims to the choice of others. Victims to the actions of those who deem themselves better, who seem to always go unscathed. Its funny how those who we put into positions of power don’t care about us or our wellbeing. You allowed a 27 floor tower, to have no smoke alarm, no sprinkler system, cheap plastic installed and never thought or cared enough to see how it will impact all the working class families living there. You allowed, loads of little girls and their family members into a concert when France is still playing in everyone’s mind. You allowed Transgender people to feel isolated and forced after what happened at Pulse. You allowed a transphobic, homophobic, sexist, racist billionaire to be President of one of the biggest western powers in the world. You allowed the unarmed killing of black bodies. You allowed the ageing population to determine the future. You allowed governments to drop bombs, killing thousands of Syrians. But the only murders that matter are those that are close, close enough to feel. Then cry, scream and shout ‘terrorist’ after you created them. I bet your thinking who is this ‘you’ you keep referring to… take a wild guess.

Do you know what creates a ‘terrorist’? Do you know? Its pain. Its suffering… its feeling as if their is no other choice. No one else understands how it feels to be so low, in a war ridden country, where your government doesn’t care and cannot stand up to western powers. They ransack your country, killing your family members with no remorse or concern for human life.

The worst part is the desensitization. Death is inevitable. But this, this is the wrong way to go. I wonder at what cost? at what cost? at what cost?

Horror Stories

Was always so blind.

I didn’t comprehend…I didn’t see

That all I wanted and needed was right in front of me.

Waving, smiling, laughing, shouting , running, reaching

Fingertips nearly touching,

Hearts nearly close enough to perform a synchronise beat.

But eyes looking past,

Eyes wide,

Eyes blind,

All the things I couldn’t see.

I let them just walk right past while I focused on only me,

My dreams,

My aspirations,


I can read you horror stories about being scared.

I can swim oceans,

jump off cliffs,

run for miles,

and it still wouldn’t be enough to tell you about the magnitude of fear.

Scared is when you realise your dad has left and your all alone

Scared is the crazy heart wrenching fear of the dark

All the things you don’t want to see, manifest and show themselves in the dark

Scared is blaming everyone but yourself

Scared is letting life pass you by

Scared is severing sacred connections.

Scared is almost saying ‘I do’

Scared is almost crying

Scared is almost showing emotion

Scared is almost saying ‘I like you too’

Scared is never moving

It’s never ending

It’s forever blind.

It’s forever losing.

It’s forever alone.