brookecutler2

  • Piano

    I’ve just done some counting. My absolute least favourite thing. And according to my calculations, I’ve had my piano (a digital piano) for seventeen years. Seventeen years. There was a moment a few weeks ago when it didn’t turn on.… Continue reading

  • In The Arms Of A Dream

    If I sit with you. On the patio, by the sunflowers. If I find you with my soft and steady gaze. If I give you my heart, if I whisper your name will you hold me? In the arms of… Continue reading

  • Soon

    I know you hear them. The bells that ring for you sing for you bring for you the stepping stones of destiny. What if I were to tell you it’s all much easier than you think? What if I were… Continue reading

  • Truth and Lollypops

    I’m not the victim of circumstance. Of uncontrollable life. Of this eternal river that constantly flows and changes, sometimes lifting me right out of the water, sometimes flowing me steadily along. That’s what I try to tell myself, anyway. That… Continue reading

  • Free To Fly

    ‘If I am free to fly,’ said the girl to the moon, ‘why are my wings still closed?’ ‘Because you have not yet decided to flip the closed sign to open,’ said the moon. To the girl. Continue reading

  • Lake Humanity

    People say there are certain truths that whistle louder through the weeping willows of lake humanity. Love bounces and drifts over the still waters, sweet and true. Hate gathers in clumps of stone and ice and shatters the peaceful flow,… Continue reading

  • Let Us Dance

    Hold me with your eyes. Feed my aching night, lover sweet, and I will be your spin and tumble and roll into the haze of the forgotten day. The air around me soars with the thrilling madness of you. Take… Continue reading

  • This Quiet Place

    I’m feeling a little tender, today. It’s a lovely feeling, don’t get me wrong. Soft and sweet, like a warm rainy day. It’s a feeling I’ve sat with at various points over the last few years, a new softness that… Continue reading

  • Woman

    I couldn’t possibly know who I am. I’m so many things, places, people, feelings: it would be impossible to really say. Who I am, that is. The question of who I want to become also seems pointless. I want to… Continue reading

  • Those Eyes

    There is a softness between us. I gaze, but I do not see you first. I feel you, first. I know you, first, down to the bones that hold you. I would ask for a kiss, but I see it… Continue reading