Well…..Hi. Its been, *checks invisible watch* 4 years. The boy I used to write about is now my husband. My son is now 7 (woah). I just submitted my first ever submission of creative writing for publishing and it seemed like a perfect time to come back to my old space. I’ve still been writing and living. Just lost touch here I guess. But. I’m back!

Commence with the cute panda noises!!!

I’m exhausted

We run around in circles.

Me always chasing you.

Always the question mark

Of what you’d like to do.

See I never liked “tag you’re it” as a child.

I never liked watching other flee.

Is it a thought much to wild;

To want someone to chase me?


The blinding light

is near the door.

Its far too bright for little eyes to ignore.

It hides most of your faces but not those smiles,

that gleam with the intent of pedophiles.

The stained mattresses wadded up by the wall,

and the dinner of sweets that temptingly call.

Somethings not right here.

Its creepy and dim.

Barely any furniture and you’re giggling with him.

Is he your partner in this with his eerie small grin?

Last night when I came home from school with her

how could I have known,

that the monsters she were running from

lived in her very own home?

We went to sleep so early.

Such very strange dreams.

I realize at dinner the next night,

its exactly what it seems.

As you laugh over this “dinner”

of foods made to distract,

I smell the unfamiliar scent

and know that I must act.

For drugs are surely to be blamed.

They knock us out and leave us lame.

Who knows what you do once we rest,

while our drug induced dreams leave us unable to protest.

Eye contact with her and a mental interaction.

She knows what my plan is and she starts her distraction.

As eyes are off me and hands rush to resolve

the problem of her throwing her food at the wall,

I dash past the lamp with the over bright light

to stop at the obstacle preventing my flight.

As I struggle with the door that has thirteen latches,

I turn to see the creeps delivering lashes.

My eyes dart frantically,

 I pray God not leave us alone.

When suddenly my eyes spot a black corded phone.

I dash and grasp it anxious to mash

the three numbers to save us from this nightmare at last!





Suddenly all is dark.

I hold myself and shake,

as I realize the truth that’s almost worse………

I’m awake.




*I wrote this about a nightmare I had. I have always had very very vivid dreams. Which makes good dreams amazing. However, it makes bad dreams terrifying. This one was felt particularly real. Needless to say, I struggled for 4 hours after I woke up to fall back asleep.



I’m Just The Jester

Bright white screen on tired green eyes.

Small black keys do not recognize,

the rhythm bashed out by my too chubby fingers.

That hate the way this uncertainty lingers.

For who am I

in the throne room of masters,

to think I could move those,

who create so much faster?

Who am I to believe that this rhyme in this space

is enough to make others feel poetic embrace?

If the meter feels wrong or the words don’t quite rhyme,

will the reader roll eyes and move on to save time?

Or is it enough to just to pound out my thoughts.

Hoping someone relates and the meanings not lost.

Not lost in the doubt that my words aren’t deep.

Not lost by the fact all that rhymes here is beep.

I believe in writing just for writing itself.

Creativity is not something that flourishes on a shelf.

So i’ll write through the doubt that I do not come close,

to the skill of those artist through whom poetry flows.

Hopefully they’ll look over this piece that’s not full

of emotion and passion, all my usual bull.

This is just me being honest and saying

That in this big doubtful world of writing….I’m staying.



Greatest Find

 He says “Lean on me”.

Three words so sweet,

from the mouth, I so often kiss.

Lean on you I shall,

for you’re my strength,

whenever my mind is amiss.

A stronger man

I’ve never had.

You are my greatest find.

Of all the things I love about you,

my favorite is that you’re mine.

Red Rainbows (*Trigger Warning*)

Come to me,

make me feel,

or feel nothing at all.


 Silence the thoughts

that wont let me think.

 Make every big thing seem small.


Fall onto me with repeated grace,

  a ballet of shades of red.


‘Sweet relief can be all mine’,

        says the whispering voice in my head.


Give me the strength to deal by myself

a burden i shall not be.


Cut loose the chains of overthinking,

maybe then I will be free.


…..for awhile

Driving Thoughts

Sometimes when I drive

I look at other drivers.

‘Who are you?’ I think.

We wander around like strangers,

forgetting we are all linked.

So forgive me if, at the crimson emission that tells us

how fast we must go.

Our eyes meet for the first time,

and to pull away, my eyes are slow.

Oh the old familiar places I see


your face begins to turn.

‘Do I know her?’ you’re probably thinking,

as you drive off without concern.

Whats so wrong with eye contact;

wondering what another’s life is like?

Why do our minds have to be so defined;

to be on a one way track?

Is it so rude to intrude,

upon your travels in a way so small?

Or should I just march on in this never ending race,

Forgetting…its not really a race at all.



Blue (Prompted Community Writing Project)(Endever Publishing Studios)

Okay so I’m a bit late to the game for this one. This is a community writing project posted by a very new and very new and unorthodox Publishing Studio. They call themselves Endever Publishing. And seriously they’re amazing. Click here to go check them out. You definitely wont regret it!

They posted this writing prompt about oh I don’t know……17 days ago (!) and i’m just now getting around to doing it. They’re actually very proactive about being involved in our little community….here are the official rules for the prompt if you’re up for some inspiration or just wanna write outside the box.

I tried to write about something that was meaningful to me but still follow the prompt. I hope you like it.




Why is Blue associated with sadness?

In my 25 years I’ve always been puzzled.

That its known as the Hue of the boys;

The pigment of emotional muddles.

Why is it the male gender is given the shade

that even as a girl I so longingly craved.

Not because of the Chroma itself.

Although really it is quite pretty.

To ignore its Chromaticity

Would be really….very shitty.

But its more about what I see behind Blue.

The Blue things that life has bestowed.

The things that made my heart swell,

to the point it would surely explode.

The Ocean for one;

its varying blues.

The way it endlessly unfolds.

The waltz that it dances with seashells at its edge.

The secrets it so passionately withholds.

Waist deep in the water feeling its push and pull.

Trying to make me its own.

Blue has never felt so sensual.

As when its trying to make me moan.

Though majestic and living the Ocean may be,

Seeing blue in this way would have lacked;

the romance of seeing it for the first time with someone

whose love for me is a fact.

For two, look at you.

Blue has never looked so good.

As when its staring back at me in your eyes.

Just one moment of contact from your iris to mine;

yes there they are……