The waiting room

Sitting, wishing, and waiting

All within the waiting room

I checked my phone a minute ago

And I’ll check it again soon

My mind races

As if trying to liven the idle

Flipping from happy to sad

In a manner almost tidal.

I think about how I yearn to love

I think about how I’m still not ready

I wonder if I can be enough

I wonder if I can hold steady

Pacing, wondering, and waiting

All within the waiting room.


Jesus Alone

The darkness ate you and it didn’t leave much behind

Just fidgeting fingers

Pale blue eyes

And the wonderful wave of your hair.

I sat and watched you from my unobstructed view

Through my rear window

Through my lens

I saw you forget love and self-care.

Soft Rain

For years I believed what Holden Caulfield said
and that this sore on my inner lip
would leave me dead,
but I’ve soldiered on
through numerous bouts of illnesses
that only existed in my nervous head.
I’ve smoked 7 cigarettes in my short life
and maybe that’s where this sore arose from,
two weeks on and still not dead
and the mildest of pains
as if my mouth was splashed by soft rain.
The operator in my brain
slams their fist on the big red button
and I’m sent into a panic
over dead memories
and made-up maladies.
I drench myself in the softest of rain
just to steady myself all over again.


Pale bruises on your arms

A red tint on both of your cheeks

Messy mousy hair

I’ve never seen someone more fair.

I think of you sometimes

I think of how things went

I guess when you’re so young

Things are always bound to crash.

We grew up

I took my time

I’m still getting there

And I can’t help but hate

All of my mistakes

And I want to forgive the boy I used to be

The boy who used to crash

Each and every day

And even though I’ve changed

I’m mostly still the same.


Longford is an oft-forgotten county
And if this country is a pack of Celebrations
then Longford is surely the Bounty,
valued by some and altogether ignored by others.

For the first 19 years or so of my life
I don’t know if I really believed Longford existed
until I made a friend from there
and he insisted
that it was indeed a real place
and I remained skeptical as I made another friend,
as a fella from Longford moved in with me,
and still I doubted.

Christmas 2016, I was at a friend’s party
and came a knock upon the door,
as 15 purported Longfordians
came bustling through,
bottles of Corona in hand
and a few wearing Paddy caps,
with the rhythmic beat of feet on the floor,
and my skepticism waned
but a tinge of doubt remains.

Laura (in a pale blue dream)

All of my dreams have been violent and sad

All of my thoughts have been scattered and mad

And I dreamt of you in a pale blue dream

And I dreamt of you with pale blue hair

And I dreamt of you Laura.

I previously dreamt of dying

Or dreamt of falling to the floor

And I swore off all that stuff

I believed it had no meaning

But then I dreamt of you in a pale blue dream.

At least it was here

Hold onto hope
if you’ve got it
Pull it back in
if you’ve lost it.
Sifting through old photographs
but something’s different
it’s like I’ve lost something
it’s like I’m colourblind
but something was there
at least it was here
I want to cry
I want to laugh
and most of all
I don’t want to choose
one or the other
for this exact moment.