Stood there in a daze as I tell you to come on over, you open the window and stick your head out wondering whether or not it would kill you if you were to throw yourself onto the pavement below. It looks too close to the ground though, and what good would broken bones… Read more

  She’s behind every door, and she’s in every mirror. She’s a phantom just like me, and when we’re drunk and skipping down the street, the tears in our eyes shine as bright as the lights of passing cars that see us not as humans but ghosts beneath white sheets. She’s broken, and she’s used,… Read more

  Sometimes I preach, and sometimes I’m too bored to do anything other than scratch my balls watching TV while smoking rolled cigarettes that stain the fingers of my right hand the colour of those fields Van Gogh used to paint. Sometimes, when I’m feeling innocent, I write poetry and think of myself as a… Read more

  As the wind swept through the streets outside, I spent a few hours watching compilations on YouTube of car crashes and shit like that. Each time I reckoned someone had died in a wreck, I imagined what it must’ve been like. That final moment. Those last few seconds. The dashcams showed vehicles flipped into… Read more

  I’m cold and sick and need a bath, but I’ve already had a bath, so I lie down and attempt to lower the tone, but of all the horrors my imagination has run bone-dry. The women in my head have deserted me, and those on the screen of my laptop are just so thin… Read more

  It’s just before midnight, and she’s drinking straight from the bottle. It’s not very ladylike, but I’ve been doing it for years, and so who am I to judge? When she’s angry, she gets this red mist, and nothing I say can lighten her mood, so I just sit there looking at her like… Read more

  Through one door and out the other, there are flashes of light on your face and static charges that jump the length of my arm. Linking my fingers with yours, there are crowds of people that swarm around us as you try removing your clothes much to my annoyance. Teeth, Fingernails. Your smile as you… Read more

  80’s horror films and cups of tea that taste like that blonde girl I used to know at school, the one who had flaky skin on her fingers. The biscuits I eat taste like her as well. Those crumbly ones with the strawberry filling. At the school prom when we were both 10, she… Read more

  For an unspecified amount of time, I’m crawling on my belly through fields of wet corn and then in the blink of an eye I’m pissing down some alley walking back from the pub. When she dances up ahead visible only to me, the taste of smoke hits the back of my throat and makes… Read more