I don’t know where. You are. 

Or who you are. Anymore. 

But here. I am. 


Sans you. 

In. And out. 


Out. And in. 

And I don’t think. I ever stopped. 


You. Or anyone. 

Or me. 

So breathe. 

Here. With me. 

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2017


Oh gosh. You’re sublime. He said. 

And then he turned. Into a monster. With half a heart. Wretched by love. By pain. By fear. 

And left it bleeding. In your hands. 

And you. 

You tried to heal it. With love. Patience. Kindness. But couldn’t. For it was not for you to heal. 

And so it goes. The story. The unfolding. The damage. Done. 

As the monster in him. Conflicted. Tormented. Haunted. Tried to destroy you. 

But you. 

You will have none of it. 

Because a clumsy oaf of a fool. Deserves not an ounce. Of you. 

Of beautiful. Delicious. Sublime. You. 

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2016


All Hallows Eve. The Devil returns. To haunt your heart. 

To tear at your flesh. Your human flesh. To remind you. That once upon a time. You loved. 

But never again. For love of flesh. Is never love. But lust. 

So you walk a path. Of the dead. The haunted. The darkest of darkness. 

For they know not. That you have sold. Your soul. To the Devil. A decade now. Your master. 

Because you never thought. A boy who lived by the cross. Could hurt you. The way a monster could. 

And every moon. Upon All Hallows Eve. He feasts again. On your bloodstained heart. A ghost of haunted past. 

So say a prayer. And laugh not. At their naivety. Nor yours. 

For on All Souls Day. You resurrect. To breathe again. To be. 

And one day shall. Love again. A love of beating heart. 

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2016

southern boy

Open your heart to me.
And I will show you a world. Beyond your understanding.
Where love exists. Without boundaries.
Do you dare?

Fight distance or space or time. Or the labels they insist on.


I miss the vibrations of your voice. Dancing on my skin. Like echoes in the night. Silent in your absence.

So I’ll trace the outline. Of your silhouette.
And bring you home. To me.


And open your heart to me.
And I will show you a world. Beyond your understanding.
Where love exists. Without boundaries.
Do you dare?

Naked. And loved.
Just you.
And me.
And nothing else.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2016

bleeding brilliance


You’re bleeding brilliance. He said.
Writer that you are.
Words like bullets.
Shoot to my heart.

And I am floored.
And so was he.

I know your soul. More than you know. He said.
More than they. And them. And you.

Overwhelmed. Am I. Is he.

I miss you. New York. Us.

And how do you convey. The beat of your jetlagged heart. Halfway across the globe.

But my love.
Look at you.
You are already better the poet than you believe.

And I am brilliant. Because of you.

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2016

the bottle


There would be highs.
And there would be lows.
I tried not to think.
Of when there’d be those.

So I bottled the moments.
The laughter. The bliss.
And I savored the second.
Our lips met to kiss.

Then the morning came.
And gone you were.
Cruel light of day.
When reality stirred.

I’ll pretend not to miss you.
But you know that I will.
With miles in between us.
In the quiet and still.

For there would be highs.
And there would be lows.
But bottled are moments.
For when there are those.


Copyright © whoisannawatts 2016


The work I want to write will encapsulate and beautify all the things you never thought you cared for.

And all the things you once cared for but now lay forgotten in the recesses of your mind, cobwebbed through time.

I want to give a gift to you, my reader.

To move, nourish, and invigorate your senses so you feel invincible, but simultaneously human.

And mortal.

So that you are inspired and encouraged to live and feel every moment to its absolute completion. And so that you are hungry for more.

For only in this moment of hunger, can you truly understand what it’s like.

To be human.

To feel human.

To act human.

And never waste a moment ever again.

Dare you come on this journey with me?

Copyright © whoisannawatts 2015

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