drink me.

She reaches for it.

It doesn’t so much as say “drink me” but it taunts her nevertheless.

This will be it. Her last drink. Again. Continue reading drink me.


All or Nothing

Photo courtesy of Matthew Smith.

You play me like a game. I’m a pawn in your chess match and you change the rules as we go. But, like a fool, I’m in too deep and I’m blind to the Game Master’s corruption.

“You’re in this. All or nothing.” But all and nothing seemingly fits much more appropriately. I’m risking it all and I know I will win nothing.

Like a chip, I’m flicked away again and again as you hope for a better deal, unsatisfied with these cards that you’ve been dealt. I’m trapped in your slot machine and I’m dizzy as I spin.

But, darling, this isn’t Monopoly and I’m not your “get out of jail free” card and I don’t owe you any rent. You can’t decide to mortgage me and you can’t decide to trade me for Park Lane.

I’m not your pawn to move as you please and I refuse to abide by your rules as if I’m dictated by your disease.  Gone are the days of manners, “no thank you” and “yes please”. I can see through your disguise but can you hear through my cries? This is no longer a no-win situation and I refuse to fall victim of this state of stagnation.

Continue reading All or Nothing


And I fell; deeper into the darkness, deeper into his arms. I should have known that everything that falls ends up broken. Continue reading Fracture

Untangle Your Vines

I’m sure by now you’ve heard those poems, dictated by the imagery of flowers symbolising love and loss. A rose, apparently a symbol of both love and death, suggests that two contradictions might even be synonymous.

I suppose you’ve read the tear stained pages of a girl in love and how a boy so selfishly planted seeds in her lungs that grew into the vines of vast wisteria, strangling her and suffocating her.

The tell-tale sign that determines whether somebody loves you, “he loves me, he loves me not”, became a notoriously bulletproof method as quickly as the leaves withered from the poor flower; the victim of such criminal poetry. Continue reading Untangle Your Vines


“You can run,” It’s a man’s voice; cold and raspy. A bead of sweat runs between my shoulder blades, down my spine, as I listen intently for his next words. I half expect him to reel off the cliched sentence, but I know he’s too original to surrender to such tormented platitude. “But there is no finish line.”

Found on tumblr
Found on tumblr

— Fictional response to the title of this post.–

There will be a scarce number of posts on this blog over the next couple of weeks because I won’t have internet connection. That means there won’t be any Sunday link-ups for at least two weeks but you can still participate in prior ones by checking them out here. Regardless, I’m going to try and schedule as many other posts as possible. I’ve got a few posts planned – and one of them is incredibly controversial (hint: it’s about this).

As ever, link-ups are a great way to introduce yourself to the community, increase your follow count, and find new content and friends. If you want to participate, just scroll down to the rules in the bottom of this post.

Continue reading Run


The sand spills through your hourglass, but I’m not listening. I cannot bear another moment knowing that soon you’ll run out of sand and all that will be left to utter is “goodbye”.

Our time is slowly withering away and I hear it only as a scream. You were my rock, and I should have known that all rocks turn to sand. Continue reading Hourglass


6736D67B17The rise and fall of your breathing is as soothing as the sound of the tide, but I’m not ignorant to the concept that I’m fishing in troubled waters. I took your bait and jumped straight into the deep end; now I’m drowning. Despite this, there’s still a comfort this deep into the water; intertwined with the kelp, this is home – but, I’ll reluctantly admit that it’s time to swim to the surface. Continue reading Drought