Sit across from me and let me learn your soul,
here, unlock my heart and take the key,
I dare you to make me feel whole.
Sip at your coffee and let me gaze into your eyes.
Welcome to my brain that is a storm;
falling in love with me probably isn't that wise,
Have coffee with me, and let's make this a home.
The Moon is a lesbian.
How do I know?
She demands my attention,
shining like the boldest in the room.
In my slumber, my body aches for her;
I awaken and look out for her every night.
My mind feels settled when I see her.
She is safe, and she is home.
When I am with her, she makes me feel whole.
Every fibre in my being yearns for her.
She is always there.
I know I’m not her only one.
There were many souls before mine,
and there’ll be even more after.
All who caught her gaze swore to love her.
Not me; I worship her.
I lay naked in her light,
embracing her energy as her rays touched my skin.
She empowers my soul, making me feel intensely,
electricity surging through my veins.
She is the almighty divine and powerful,
invigorating and delicious.
She takes my breath away
every single time.
The Moon is a lesbian,
And she’ll forever have my heart.
This poem is from my poetry collection, The Moon is a Lesbian. You can order a paperback version or purchase the new extended version on Kindle here. If you have Kindle Unlimited, you can read the collection for free!
Hello lovelies!
As some of you may know, on my 25th birthday last year, I published my very first poetry collection, The Moon is a Lesbian! It's almost the first anniversary, and I am still shocked at how much support I received and all the love people have given to it. It is a proud moment when people buy your books (some even take pictures with them and cry each time).
Publishing the collection was definitely a highlight of 2023. It made some great sales and, at one point, ranked 9 on Amazon's LGBTQ+ Anthologies list, which was just incredible. Since the release, I've been writing my heart out (as always) and have decided that on the year anniversary (23rd March 2024), I will be releasing a Kindle version of The Moon is a Lesbian. However, it will include some new poems!! So far, ten new poems, but more could be added between then and now!
I altered the cover slightly, wanting the Kindle version to look somewhat different from the physical copy. So, here is the cover for the Kindle edition of my poetry collection:
In case you didn't hear about it the first time, the collection is filled with personal poems that cover the topics of love, lesbian life, coming out, mental health, politics, queer panic, and all that is in my heart. I'm excited to share this extended poetry collection with you in the upcoming weeks!
Keep an eye out, and thank you as always for reading my blog and supporting my words <3
even if my brain sometimes doesn't feel like my own.
I feel intensely, even when I wish I wouldn't,I was sober.
Until I wasn't.
I forgot how good wine tasted,
how good wine would make me feel.
After a rough day,
a bottle of wine greets me like a wife I never had.
Never disappointed in my being,
but always there to soothe and listen.
I was sober,
until I wasn't.
Hello, lovelies!
I am back with the cover reveal for my new upcoming poetry collection: The Moon is a Lesbian. I am super excited about it all, we're a couple of days away from the publishing date!
You can buy your copy on the 23.03.23!!
Pros of being a poet:
Cons of being a poet:
Pouring out your heart.
Today, I healed my inner teen.
She is no longer the person I wish to be,
Or wish for the world to see.
She deserves to be healed and be in peace.
I’m no longer my sixteen-year-old self,
We’ve loved, lost and grown as a person.
I feel that I am someone she’d be proud to be.
I’ve parted ways with my teen self,
I no longer wish for her naivety or a smaller waist.
But I thank her, I owe her a lot.
I thank her for being passionate and forever hopeful,
I am proud of who she was,
And who she has turned out to be.
Live for yourself,
don't live up to expectations,
Break your own heart,
don't let anyone shatter your kindness.
Always pondering,
wondering what could be.
sobbing over the never could be.
Never present,
but always full of thoughts.
the idea of you was sweeter than the reality.
I prefer the version of you,
He gives each of his lovers his entire being,
and loves them with his whole heart.
He looks for long-lasting love,
he thinks quick and easy love is a farce.
He promises complete devotion,
a kind of love you only see in old films.
He'll chase the girl across the globe
just so she'll be his world.
Mister gives her his all,
but always end ups being Mister all alone.
The cold air makes me wrap up just that little bit warmer.
The first sip of my first pumpkin spice latte of the day.
Dark mornings, and even darker evenings.
Oh Autumn, how I've missed you so.
The days are getting darker, quicker,
I yearn to be home the moment the skies begin to dim.
The way leaves crunch beneath my feet,
they used to spark excitement deep within.
The seasons are changing,
I am afraid I am changing too.
Once upon a time, I found joy in little things,
Now, I cannot remember the last time something made me stop and think.
Right here, right now
this is my stage.
To share with you all of my rage,
rage fucking rage.
My rage is because my body is a topic,
it almost feels like it doesn't belong to me.
Everyone seems to have an opinion,
too fat, not pretty, she must be lazy.
Fuck you, that's not the real me,
but you see what you want to see.
I live for me, and only me.
My rage is for my period,
for wanting it to stop.
I don't want children,
but I am told what if?
I shouldn't need a reason,
I shouldn't need an excuse.
Don't project your ideals onto me,
for my life is happily childfree.
My rage is for men's opinions on abortions,
you don't have a vagina, you don't get to talk here.
"But a bloke should have a say?"
Why should a woman give birth if she doesn't want to,
spill your sperm somewhere else,
a child shouldn't be left to be a woman's burden.
Just say you hate women and move along.
I rage because as a lesbian I am not taking seriously,
apparently, I just need a bit of dick inside of me,
I'm not sorry sir, I'm not attracted to tools,
even if I wanted dick it wouldn't be from a fool.
Leave me be, I am a woman loving woman.
I rage from the top of my lungs,
knowing it will never be enough.
Our struggles, our bodies always the topic,
fuck that, now drop it.
---
This is my response to WritingMyPrompt August's prompt.
I never thought I'd learn to love again,
the shattered pieces I look at in disbelief.
I don't feel that familiar cold dread in my chest,
no voices talking me out of this.
I found you,
I am relearning all that I know.
My heart beats faster than it ever did,
this love is different from before.
This love feels gentle,
no games: just our hearts,
I know this is only the start
but loving you isn't hard.
You make me feel whole,
I know this may not be forever,
I have never felt like that before,
but I like us being together.
Oh, little fairy,
how cunning you can be,
shake your wings, sprinkle your dust,
for us all to see.
Oh, little fairy,
I see the games you play.
Twirling your hair, watching me all day.
Up to mischief, up to no good,
behave you very much should.
Oh, little fairy,
don't fly too close to the fire,
danger danger,
is that your desire?
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| Artwork by Rebecca McDonald @the_little_artist_room on Instagram |
The writer,
the writer in me is ready,
ready to spring free,
free our words,
words to the world,
the world better be ready,
ready to connect with our mind,
mind your business,
business being my heart,
heart is what we will give,
give our heart and soul,
soul on a platter,
platter, eat my words and weep.
I have made a list of my favourite poems from the collection: 
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| In the middle |
In the middle of a pandemic,
it's normal to panic and worry.
We are told these are unprecedented times,
uncertainty is the new normality.
In the middle of a pandemic,
I miss the little things.
Like sitting at the front of the bus,
smiling at strangers,
but you cannot see smiles behind a mask.
In the middle of a pandemic,
I miss human contact.
Hugging my best friend, tightly and publicly.
Now we wave at a two-metre distance.
In the middle of a pandemic,
we have these things called bubbles.
A support network to help you mentally.
They used to be called friend groups,
they now feel more like a lifeline keeping us sane.
I long for the days:
we are safe to be outside again
when covid isn't plastered all over our screens.
I long for when we are no longer in the middle of the pandemic.
(Photo is not my own, I got it from Google)
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