Realising false motivations — I grow tired each step that drags me further from where I began. In hazing sun, the ground becomes a reflective pool, shining fatigue into my already exhausted eyes. People see me hiking, finding joy from my struggle, mocking me when they think they are out of ear shot. I can’t tell you how much I despise the climb, how inside…

You could not trick me into staying — I, I know just the words, the words you wanted to hear, the face you asked to see. There is plenty I could’ve said, I could’ve spoken, I could’ve asked for, begged for, anything you wished me to do, but I chose, I chose silence, silence enough to feel every breath I took, and every hope you were losing. I am free once again, and…

A fruitless search for love — My feet begin to ache as their tiresome stepping progresses through what forest, what obstacle separates us. I asked myself once whether the journey was worth the risk, the reward, the mere sense of finding you out there, and I said to myself in response, it is the right decision. You were the call dragging me from my bones, from the…

A poem of inner battles — As heaven bears no fruit for my unspoken soul, raptured tendencies collide with virtue and with pride, my ego fights a war it cannot seem to win, but quit, it will not dare for all the world is watching. Pushing through struggle, an open wound, unholy, pouring pain and power like water falling…

A poem about condemnations repealed — my mind a character crossed with concupiscent chaos buried in a tomb of drowning sin covered in censured crucifixes pleads in silence for mercy and love all until self-worth unveils a new being within and chattering voices embedded in my ear lose their frail footing exchanging their place with mine …

A poem shaming indolence — There is a canopy of love covering the heads of those whose feet leave prints in the sand that lines the shore. …

A poem fighting the urge to wait — Ice disappears from the thin plastic of my sleeping bag. Rays of violent sunlight, direct and determined, sneak through the gap between tarp and tent. Time, wound back at least two hours. Sticks rustle themselves in the thicket that surrounds me. I pray for a handful of minutes more, even as the face of light screams in my ear. Cowering behind a blanket, beneath…

A poem about waiting — When I reminisce, I do not go to great happiness. It makes no footprint in the golden sand of my memory, for the rains of time wash away what remnants of their joy remained. Instead, I picture moments raw, filled with moving emotion, emotion changing pace, like a sprint to long-distance then back to…

A poem about struggling with one’s voice — I often find myself searching for the words I want to say, it not existing in my immediate grasp, and it annoys me how quickly a friend or a colleague can pull a thought right from the air into their mind and speak it through their mouth clearer than I ever could…