Fear is the Strength and Strength is Abandon


A gang of evergreens sway unbothered in increasing wind

He crouches between them


Pressing darkness overhead races to meet the thunder

Casting air into lungs – he erects from dirt


The seduction of submission gnaws on his heels

He brazens into open field


Closing in are the bleating calls of scathing violence

Nothing but red rain on the horizon


Water falls – an unrelenting beating of the Earth

Afraid – yet past indignities ignite the war-lust within him

Existential Ramen

one less package of ramen in the pantry today

it somehow now appears empty

even though I only threw out a

single expired package of ramen


there were two,

and now only one

when there were two

it offered unique touch of colour

amongst the myriad of dried pastas and canned foods

one green package, one orange


I was going to make a couple stir fry

my first homemade ramen

these small yet comforting ideas

nestled in the back of my mind

easing threats of boredom and redundancy

and how utterly stupid

to feel a jab of loneliness as the garbage lid shuts


I stare into my pantry, with the light off

and it stares back



Picture-perfect sundial, spinning on a curve, away from the porch light, not catching time the way I want it to. Such a useless present from Mom on my 28th birthday.

He had bought me a silver necklace and the pajama set I’m wearing. I’m 30 now.

I pick up the sundial and spin it again. Glowing amber and blue, so subtle, the precursor to sunrise, begins to illuminate my surroundings. The haze hangs lovingly.

He said he would get the car tuned up for our upcoming road trip to Bill and Dessie’s wedding.

The sun is now peaking over the horizon of suburbia, glittering not only the grass, but windows of homes and cars, hurting my eyes as I shield my face.

I saw her name in his phone on Wednesday.

More minutes pass, slow and painful. The dichotomy of the neighbourhood waking up and I having not yet slept, pangs brutally in my temples and chest.

He stopped telling me he loved me.

The birds are snapping up the worms protruding from our green, liquid-dusted lawn. How cruel an outwardly beautiful life can be.

He said she was just a friend, just an intern at the office.

Hunger rumbles in my stomach but is quickly replaced with sickness. Replaced.

He went to a work function last night where there was fine dining, cocktail dresses, champagne, and power-point presentations.

Ms. Mary steps outside in her fuzzy, pink robe to retrieve her paper. She waves to me. I wave back and for some reason – this innocent transaction produces tears from my insignificant skull. I don’t allow these tears to fall, because that would make it real.

He didn’t come home last night.



There is no substitute for your love


That sweet alluring nectar

Of the God

Who sucked me in

Teasing suffocation

Inhaling rotten skin

So good, so mean, so clean, I see

It’s dizzy being free

I ride the spiraling



Never pay the fee

Through illegal skies, I fly

I’m young, so it’s okay

For me to play with sugared knives

And waste away the day

Sudden wounded tremors

I feel the fire now

Licking at my feet I sense

A threat to burn me out

Hot showers of my crimson spite

Begin to splatter down

Upon the heads who turned away

The truth’s a battleground

Laughter sees

A starry night

Pouring from my belly

Sliding into atmosphere

Scents of sweat and lavender

She isn’t who she thought she was

My wretching body

Sick and numb

A blurry warmth

A fatal tongue

The devil rips my twisted gut

Scares me straight

He always does

Now I regress, I must confess

Chewing toxic crayons

Colour outside the lines

‘Til my heart is sobbing

I know

It begs, It pleads, It sighs

Only then I will surrender

I sleep

But never rest

The night salutes, “I’ll see you soon,”

Morning whispers of regret