Winter Sun



Take the box of matches from out of my jacket pocket. Light your cigarette and call in sick so we can spend the afternoon in bed reading dog-eared books while watching vintage pornography on your laptop. These cold days bring us closer together, as does the threat of war. The shadows that lurk on the streets, they make us inseparable. They make us complete. Sometimes there’s lovemaking. Sometimes when you fall asleep, I sketch your face in my notepad imagining all the ways I could hurt you. It’s not that I’m a bad person, at least I don’t think it is. It’s just that you need to remain anchored, for whenever you begin to fly away, I’m afraid I might lose you. I’m afraid you’ll not have need of me, so I clip your wings and hold you close. Whenever you cry, I see myself in the tears that roll down your cheeks. When you curl into a ball in a fit of despair, this is what I feel inside but can never express because I’ve never known how. Please, put your heart in mine and make me come alive. Give me your mouth and do your best to breathe me to life. As leaves fall before the winter sun, come undone in an act of beauty unlike anything I’ve ever been able to show. There should be words, there should be actions, but as hard as I try, they never seem to materialise. Instead, there’s only a silence you mistake for content.

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

A Journal for Damned Lovers on

17 replies »

  1. Your lines convey the sense of fear and longing so beautifully and I love how you translate the inner torment of the character into words in each write, it’s subtle and yet so compelling. Lovely as always.

    • That’s very kind of you. I’m glad you mentioned those two words- fear and longing- because they’ve been forcing my hand quite a lot just recently. The way they collide is most satisfying. Thank you for such lovely words x

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