Objectify Me



The Attic


A ghost fashioned out of love and nostalgia to calm my storm paces the attic floor. The lines of her hands trace up the stairs with fingerprints and echoes of laughter. Aching for the breath and bones, I sit with the construct as she continues to color me. With all that grace and light she speaks to what was and what should have been. I gently nod and remind the ghost I have made, she is loved truly and unconditionally.




My Dawn


Before my dawn……………

I stepped out

Onto cold basement concrete

Only to have it fall away

To head-smack another bedrock

My dawn was……………..

A chemical key

Shattered a dark lock

And flew open the doors to

Raw emotion laid bare

That uncut magick

The profound source

Of much needed healing

After my dawn……………..

Washed spotless

Of my sad tyrant

I shave from my face

Tired toxic stubble

To begin anew

Clearing Rubbish


Bits of rubbish left behind

Tossed aside like I was

For something ‘better’

Thrown to the wayside

I pick up the pieces

Collect them in a bin

Staring at them

Pining for the past

With nowhere

To empty the can

Should I leave it be

Accept my burdened fate

Or embrace the refuse

Knock over the receptacles

Of hurt heart shards

And live among them

Sculpting garbage art

From the remnants

Of unrequited love