We never really learnt or adapted to actually be alone with nothing but ourselves – to pause, to think, to wander and wonder.
'Is happiness a common resource? A river that flows through every household?'
A poem on coping with the highs and lows of bipolar disorder.
'Today I am sad, because yesterday I was happy'
'It's okay if you aren't able to maintain the balance.'
A poem on a broken family during Christmas time.
A call for a return to peace.
My traumas are an undying part of me.
What we’re after is attained not by manically altering things on the outside but by taking control of the inside.