Risk.

This was written as a spoken-word poem, it was made to be read aloud.

I’d known you for years, we grew up in the same town
I used to listen to you talk about some new girl that you’d found

You’d talk about how you met like it was destiny
How you’d fallen in love and...

Who do you ask when nobody knows?

How do you get to where nobody goes?

How do you speak words as yet unspoken?

How do you fix what was never really broken?

Who's fault is it when there's no one to blame?

What do you call something deprived of a name?

How do you read what was...

Mutare (Noun. M-you-tar-ray)

Mutare. That’s what they’re called. Mutare.

They say, they all have blue eyes – that in direct sunlight, look purple.

But that’s not true.

They say, they can breathe underwater.

But that’s not true.

They say, that when they die, their souls cryst...

You’ve googled it, haven’t you? ‘Things we don’t know we’re consuming’, or something similar along those lines. You’ve clicked on various links and been sufficiently horrified by the gunge you’ve discovered that massive co-operations are pumping into ready meals and ca...

Jessie Jones lived for Christmas. From the reindeers to the ribbon, the turkey to the tinsel - she loved everything about it. And to top it all off, Christmas Day was her birthday. She’d count down from Halloween, let alone Advent. She especially loved her next-door ne...

There once was a mouse

In a very large house

He’d often been seen

But blessed had he been

For days he just hid

So no one could rid

That unfortunate house

Of the troublesome mouse!

Despite all their tries

The mouse was too wise

He’d steal food and drink

And poo in the sink

Then scr...

“License and registration, please.” He recited, monotone.

“Of course.” She casually responded as she dragged her bag onto her lap from the passenger seat. This wasn’t her first time in a situation like this - in fact she was quite practised in dealing with law enforcers...

The Clock

I hate the way, the hands, they dance

Number to number they mockingly prance

As if, somehow, they gleefully know

My heart is breaking as they go 

Tick after tock, I hear it’s daunting laugh

As I mourn my beloved’s chosen path

Counting the seconds as they pass

Clingin...

She stood there – deep blue eyes alive with curiosity, slightly slouched shoulders, drowning in over-sized uniform.

Ethan turned towards her – dark brown eyes alive with anticipation, tall and austere, not a strand of fiery auburn hair out of place.

“Isabella? You must b...