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Sometimes all I do is think. I think of all the poems I have stacked so neatly on the shelves of my mind. All gathering dust and welcoming age. All in perfect alphabetical order. In no particular order either. I think of all the poems I started but never finished creating, all the half written […]



I have my notebook out, my pencils are scattered all over the table leaving just enough space for my steaming coffee. I am so excited. It’s time to write! I curve up a few words. The first and second stanzas are done but how to finish? The first paragraph is perfect but the second one […]


How to Pitch Personal Essays at Longreads: An Updated Guide — Longreads

New submissions guidelines, plus information about our new essay series.

How to Pitch Personal Essays at Longreads: An Updated Guide — Longreads

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I let my blood flow, painting these pages

I embedded myself,
To the walls of this pages.
I let my blood flow,
Painting these pages
With my fingers,
As the brushes.
Gently stroking the pages
I let myself do the calligraphy..
I gave myself to this paper
When I finished writing,
I rolled a joint,
As if to captivate my troubles
Couldn’t wait to light it up
Just to watch sorrow float
So confidently in air
Like to the quiet sea,
A weary boat.

© feddiesharkhy


I trusted him 99 percent but the 1 percent sucks

In that moment, i hated him. I looked at him with my eyes shooting death curses, red as hell. I could feel my throat clog, the warm, slightly digested lunch threatened to come out the same way, it got swallowed in.

I despised every word he spat. I thought and saw through every plan i came up with, not to end that wouldn’t be enough, but to torture. I sat across him, a few inches away. Yet he felt rather further.

I knew i couldn’t go with it. I couldn’t stomach that kind of guilt. I would hate myself. Yeah, that made me tremble. I loved him. And i knew he cared. Why else would he be here anyway?

All i needed to do was to understand! Understand! Just understand. But to a brain cell in my hard skull, those harmless words translated into ‘give up!’ and that, i couldn’t let happen. I trusted him ninety-nine percent. But that one percent sucks.

He looked up at me. Meeting my murderous gaze. ‘Don’t put me in a tight position.’ He smiled. Not the warm, welcoming smile, but the ‘I won.’ smile.

I let him take the win. For his overgrown heart. I let it slide. Yeah, we could say i am a little mature (not to self-praise) but as the clouds gather, the storms charge.
© feddiesharkhy


But my demons will tire me to sleep

Here I go again,
Blocking everyone out
Shutting everyone out
Putting out the camp fire
It’s time to sleep
It’s time for me to roam
In the jungle
All alone
I don’t mind
Not at all
Here I go again
Killing all I ever gave life to
All you bring is pain anyway,
Let me be
I just wanna play with my demons
I know I can’t hide
I can’t run either
They will always find.
All you bring is pain
Plus laughter
But I don’t need that
My demons will tire me
I will fall asleep anyway.
All you bring is pain anyway
And, last night was fun
But I will enjoy
Running from my demons
Or at least trying to.
Here I go again
Summoning all my legions
Summoning my servants
Summoning my masters
Here I go again shutting you out. © feddiesharkhy.#EXPLICIT


As the orange
Was sprayed,
Across the vast realms
And the sun,
Slowly retracted
To its warm, cosy bed
Beyond the horizons
And over the mountains,
Dissolving it’s last rays
On the blue oceans
And the darkness
Quickly rose,
Like a mother, in haste
I knew it was time,
For me to sing and dance
It was time for my reign
And they would look up
To me,
As some find love
Beneath my glance
And the lonely
Feel most at home.
While some,
Find rest
For in my absence,
It’s darkest
And the witching hour
Would be upon us
nobody truly wants that.
And some to me sing,
Twinkle twinkle little star
How I wonder what you are.
© feddiesharkhy

Twinkle twinkle little star

Friday the 13th

Maybe it’s time I pulled out my chest box,
let it see the light of day,
let it bask in the heat of the sun,
maybe it’s time I bent over,
with my flashlight on,
take slow steps down the basement,
it’s scary down here.
I don’t normally come here.
It’s really like walking to your own death,
worse than having a gun to your face,
coz it’s fired.
Friday the 13th.
When my horrors come home,
with bags full of torture.
When my torments are unending.
When my laughter is too loud,
coz anyway, I’m screaming.
When my blood flows,
as I lie willingly in its puddle.
My heart, unwilling to beat,
is it not involuntary?
My feet unable to take the next step,
my eyes shut,
my breath heavy under pressure.
I know my lungs want to explode.
I can feel them.
Somebody spark the blunt. Somebody get the taco.
Friday the 13th.
I flow like water in a stream,
let them unfold,
like a lady at her peak.
Old tattered pages,
as I look at them, I think of my wages.
I’m tired of old faces.
My demons keep whispering, “I got you”
as the shadows creep.
But how would I let them go?
I’m a hoarder.
And, and, they have been man’s best friend.
How do I scatter their ashes to the oceans,
how do I throw our memories,
to the fields of forget,
would that not be betrayal?
Man’s best friend,
held my hand when you couldn’t,
slept in my bed when your comfort I needed,
held my pen as I wrote,
scribbled on my pages,
words I never could,
so courageously,
filled my whisky glass,
as I watered my sorrow’s pool.
How do I dig the earth up,
Just to give it back it’s dirt?
How do I walk away?
“Just take one step at a time.”
Easier said than done.
Easier done than undone,
easier the start than the end.
Easier me, as your worst friend,
easier you, don’t depend.© feddiesharkhy


They call me mean now
They say I’ve changed
Grown a lil darker
And slender
But is today yesterday
Does the week start and end
On Sunday
Does your calender
Read the same date
Is the moon always full
You weren’t there
During my fall
They call me mean now
Oblivious of the patterned scars
They tatted
On my once beautiful skin
Taking the form of Frankie
An ode to my name
They call me heartless
They plucked it out
Like a weed in the garden
Left me with a gaping hole
Stray demons found a home
Hungry vamps
Had blood in litres,
The supply endless
They call me dark now
Ignoring the stars
Sitting on me
Finding glory,
In my unending shadow
The darker I get,
The brighter they shine
But for the moon to rise,
In the west, the sun sets
© feddiesharkhy


And as you walk down the pavements of your empty being,
noting every wrong bend,
every overgrown flower,
with the hedge looking a little too bushy,
noting nothing but the bad that surrounds you, you can only stop,
to give thanks to the mountains of endless windows,
trying best as they can to illuminate your darkness,
to paint a little hope to your dark being,
but that only makes you feel emptier,
no portrait is large enough to fit in perfectly,
or at least what you consider perfect.
No flowers are wild enough to crawl up your walls,
would you even let them do the colouring?
But you hate the windows,
with the same might, you hate yourself,
they only bring out your worst,
only makes your shadow greater,
bigger than you.
You wanna smash right through them,
let their pieces fall,
to the ground below,
mock yourself a little,
only then can you manage a smile.
but that would only bring in more light.
You wanna walk away,
but you rest your palms on the window pane,
and as you watch your pain walk right in,
the sun sets.
© feddiesharkhy