There’s nothing like thwarted love smudged across my collar

Bodacious Red

The honey eyes of my beloved gaze happily, unknowingly from the portrait hung boldly along the corridor

A stroke across my nudity prods an erasure of guilt

Aware now of the more current events

and able only to respond in vulgar adultery, again

Sweet death to my morality as my temptations smother my waist

Sounds-forbidden, yet lusted for during long nights between the subtle breaths of my consort

Absent for only a few hours more as her slumbers holds records in its depth

More than enough had, gluttony fiercest in moments of weakness

which appears like a wolf in the night of the fullest moons

Thirsty for prey while its cave holds abundance in nourishment

A shuffle from the sheets arouse an overcoming anxiety

and we scurry

Shame-filled and frustrated at the thought of another rendezvous sure to come

I make my way back to the side of my betrothed

Enamouring beauty peaceful in her stillness

Her heart growing weaker from every stolen moment she knows nothing of

and never will



He kept them in pictures

Each memory capsuled in a frozen time made of ink and glossy paper

Guarded by a plastic shield ; a protection stronger than his own skin

And his heart held holes in proof 

Like acne, wounds spread around his insides 

Sores and scabs inflicted with no remorse or intent to heal

And he remained skewed,

only finding comfort in the fleeting moments imprisoned between the pages of then and no longer

Kindergarten Stuff

Its not sharing if you steal it first

Taking what you please

and setting a timer

Boundaries even

Scheduling visits with limits

Racking up rules for my own property

with no condolence in my loss

Just fees and absentee reminders that

your greater numbers pose a threat to my sucker-punched kin 

and that 

big hearts experience big loss but gain greater success

as a big voice expels after much deliberation


When joint custody is no longer satisfying enough 

and I take back what was mine all along

A receipt to ensure no memory loss imprints:

It’s not sharing if you steal it first.


Am I the victim if I let him abuse me?

Gave ultimatums and prayed that he would choose me

Night after night he would scream, yell and then bruise me

But I still loved him and that part always confused me

Wore things he liked so that he’d want to pursue me

He’d often swear that he’d die if he’d ever lose me

And then we’d fight and he’d find reasons to accuse me 

Then buy me flowers, he always knew just how to woo me

His punching bag became his favourite way to use me

My swollen lips I’d just accepted as the new me

It all got worse as he started to black and blue me

Told me he’d put me somewhere no one could ever view me

Fear outweighed love and the rage, it overthrew me

I forced his gun to my head, urged him to shoot me

He put his hands around my neck and then he threw me

Against the floor, I cried no more as he ran through me

Life left my eyes, free from myself, I was a new me

Soul to the sky, he watched me die and whispered to me

“It’s all your fault, I would have stopped if you refused me”

Am I the victim if I let him abuse me?

Book Review #1 – Poet Robot


I’ve noticed many Word Pressers getting published and/or thinking about getting published, and I couldn’t be more happy for them! That being said, I have had the honor of receiving a hilariously creative and unique copy of E.I Wong‘s book Poet Robot: An Introduction to E.I. Wong and wanted to share it with you!

This compact collection of humorous poetry keeps the pages turning with such an ease. It is clear through his style that Wong invests himself whole-heartedly in his art and takes the time to execute it brilliantly. His ideas are clearly expressed (sometimes in sincerity, often times in a joke) and are from a perspective that I hadn’t explored before. If I found myself confused at anytime, his funny and equally informative footnotes added the perfect clarity.

Satirical like poetry ranging from bears with chainsaws, to forgiveness, and even an entire section from the viewpoint of assassin training an apprentice (my absolute favorite part by the way)- there is enough diversity to hold anyone’s interests from start to finish.

After fully reading all 112 pages three times for my own entertainment, it would be quite impossible for me to keep this book to myself. You can find more of his works posted on his blog A Narcissist Writes Letters To Himself, and also here for purchase. I insist you check these out! E.I. Wong is an incredible writer.

Also, a big thanks to E.I. Wong for sending me a copy! It was a fun and enjoyable read! I found myself sharing it with my fiance every time I read something amazing, which ended up being every minute 🙂

Overall Rating: 5 out of 5




*If any of you have published something and want me to give it a review, feel free to leave me a message below and I’ll be in touch.

Interim Reign

Before the dawn kisses the sky, I warm the seat of my throne
In this place, I am king
The place where the greatest decisions are made, my musings stream as quick as I breath
I am in control
And though visitors approach with requests of the most inconvenient
I often oblige,
removing myself from my precious porcelain;
A ringing flush the sole reminder of my temporary reign

Amidst The Night

Pardon me,
I hate to be the one to rouse you from your slumber,
but do rise,
for He comes hastily with much chaos to spread;
Come hither now sweet child, no time for fear or shuffling feet,
We must ascend towards the attic’s arms,
our breathing softer than goose down,
Listen as He stirs the room, feet heavier than boulders;
His scent thick like molasses of the spiced rum He’s consumed;
Hide away here for the night, worry not of the shadows,
for each night occurring after will be met with my misty presence,
as I’ll slip away from my lonely slab tucked deep within the forest graves.