I am 12 Oclock

A ragbag of whispers quilled into verses


When the morning sun rose that day, I couldn’t have dreamt that it symbolised the rise of something new and uncommon in my life.

The evening stepped in without me knowing that it did and that day was when my hands started dancing in twists and curves and I wrote my first poem.

After that, whenever something touched me, I knew that my feelings would transform to find life in my words and come out as something different.

This book is a huge little dream in itself and is the only thing that has been able to assure me that I can trust every letter and every word I write.