A haiku for my cat on her birthday

It is your birthday
You are one years old today

You furry dickhead


To be read really really fast


I keep starting and stopping and starting and stopping again,
And it’s a pain – because everything that I am musing is valid yes
But not enough for me to advance on them or attempt to digress
And I can only bring my own truth to the words that fumble from my fingertips and fall carelessly onto paper
But at this stage I’ve got more chance of being a butcher a baker or even a fucking quaker
Because I’m distracted by the thought of skin on skin and psychical interactions
And if I only had a small fraction of the day to be writing I suppose my focus wouldn’t be as flighting
But my own brain has shut me out temporarily and is refusing to let me in even though I am the one who primarily interacts with it on a day to day basis
Suppose I’ll go back to basics and start again tomorrow in a different environment with a new set of faces…




I sat on the cold metal bars of the bench waiting for the train to arrive
I watched eagerly down the line for a sign of movement, rubbing my hands together to create warmth
It must’ve been 2 degrees out
I wrapped my scarf around my neck
and again
and again
and until only the tassles hung down

The train was late

I reached into my pocket to grab my phone forgetting the mass amounts of receipts I had in there
They quickly got caught up with the wind, circulating through the air like symphonies
There was no point trying to grab them
Plus there was no one around so I didn’t feel as bad about littering

I perched eagle eyed waiting for the train to come, I just wanted to get home
I was shattered, I’d been walking all day
I felt like I’d been walking for 10 hours and all I wanted to do was be horizontal for a while and stare at the ceiling

Looking down the tunnel I saw two lights approaching, this must be it
I stood up and went to pick my rucksack from the floor when I saw it
Your face
Your pass card
You’d shown it to me when we had sat up in your room that time
You were 13 and long straight hair grazed your forehead
You were nothing like the curly haired boy I had come to know and love
I told you I was taking it and tucked you neatly into my purse

How was it on the floor now?
I must have accidentally have swiped it up with all my receipts and stuffed it in to my pocket
Too heavy to be swept up with the wind you just fell to the floor
Now you were just lying there, vacantly staring at me
I stood for what must have been too long just remembering
too long because I hadn’t seen that face in a while and
too long because now the train was at the platform
I bent down to pick you up and then thought against it

I guess it’s time I let go
I guess it’s time I leave you here
I guess it’s time I move on too

I stepped onto the train and walked over to the next free seat
I gazed out the window at the small laminated card on the ground as the train pulled away.



Hidden messages in my mirror
Hidden messages in my notebook
Hidden messages in my conversations
Hidden messages on my computer
Hidden messages in my thoughts
Hidden messages in my actions
Hidden messages in my food
Hidden messages in my dreams
Hidden messages in my laughter
Hidden messages in my clothes
Hidden messages in my music
Hidden messages in my home
Hidden messages in my smile

I’ve not been myself for a while.



Spring was just a day away.

We prepared by folding away our winter clothes and placing them neatly in the drawer below the oak wardrobe.
It didn’t matter if the cold still crept in through the draughty front door because we were hopeful that the morning light would bring warmth and hope

Even if tired minds and sunken eyes from the long night before made us slow and weary, we knew we had each other.
And just like all the flowers that grow their first leaf of the year, our love did bloom. Because I was you and you were I even under the unknowing glow of the moon. We gave this house with its tall ceilings and condensed windows warmth and understanding. So when we sat to dinner, you in your chair and I in mine, I looked towards the spring and all the light and all the love that this new season would bring.

Tinder boyz


They will tell you their height but not their woes,
They’ll inform you they’re bearded like you didn’t already know
They’ll relay you their job title if they think you’ll be impressed
All these tinder boys are just after pics of your breasts

They want full length photos and they are all, ‘have you got snapchat?’
They’ll harp on about how much they hate cats
The obligatory ski photo to show that they’re outdoorsy
But can’t hold a conversation, it fucking bores me

So, you like to travel but are too lazy to explore my mind?
They won’t ask anything meaningful
Claim that they’ve got no idea of what they want to find

If I had a pound for all the dick pics in my phone
Jack, Kyle, some lad, ummm unknown
I could afford a trombone

A couple brief exchanges and an absent reply
Leaving you checking your notifications like, ‘wow, did they die?’
I’m bored of the game and I’m bored of the choice
I’m bored of the swiping and typing
and the abscence of voice

Having all that choice is pointless if you can’t make a decision
Dating apps are a catalyst for social circumcision
The ability to rapidly connect is causing a disconnect
So let’s reflect
On the defects
Of society
Come up to me in a bar
And get to know