IrishWritersCentre
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Platform Wait
The platform wind cuts through my coat, My patience wears too thin;Two hours between each wretched train— What state are we all in?A bank-day hush lies on the tracks, The cold seeps through my bones;The loudspeaker stays deathly mute, Ignoring all my groans.I pace the boards, I stamp my feet, I mutter at the sky;So who designed this dismal plan And Continue reading
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Autistic. Gay. Creative.
When I first began writing, I often wondered if my voice would ever find a home. As an autistic, gay writer, the world sometimes felt like it was asking me to shrink, to smooth out the edges of difference. Yet writing became the place where those edges could shine—where difference wasn’t something to hide, but Continue reading
NeuroDivine 