Crooks of elbows Squared in pegs Cream coloured walls The cool between your legs Closed buttoned eyelids Cloudy skies Web of fingers Your beautiful lies Tucked away neatly Amongst bits of red Metal staples Running though your head Yet a round saucer Swirling in the sea Grey mists and bones
A Clinical Psychologist, Facilitator, Baker and Candlestick maker! Love to write. My career is based on the spoken word. I use words to connect, heal, create insight, facilitate growth and evoke laughter.Words twirl and curtsy, They do as you say. Accurate and reliable, They don’t betray! Cheers!
On a wrinkled trajectory the blood averts to abstract remission, I am out of place in time and history. Try to nudge the jumping ants with their cyberweapons ready to strike the antique nectaries of judgements. The predators were coming.
In some secluded corners of my heart, the blood turns cold, I feel a chill, in this warmed breeze, I am turning cold, lifeless, no emotions I’m left with, The voices I hear are just cracked up sound. In the