Remember that time I had an existential crisis in WHSmith? Stood in the queue with a notepad and some magazines under my arm, I was checking to see whether or not to pay with cash or card when the realisation of my situation hit me. The dinosaurs- they had been dead for millions of… Read more

  I’ve known others but never myself. I’ve seen the whites of their eyes belly to belly at 3 am after a night of drinking but my reflection never registers no many how many times I’ve gazed in the mirror. Not that it matters. None of us are who we think we are. Sometimes I… Read more

  Drunk and fidgety, we climb into the flat above the chemists. It’s not Canada, and I’ve never been, but it feels like Vancouver somehow. When we slide open the window, I check the rooms and they’re all empty. I used to live here many years ago. My room was on the landing. No door,… Read more

  There’s blood on the bedsheets, it’s hers, not mine. There’s smoke in the air or it could be fog rolling in off the sea not sure don’t care. She morphs she comes. When I shoot she shivers and goes limp so I carry her to the bath and wash her until she smiles and… Read more

  The animals gravitate to her hips, as do I. From dancefloors full of insects to the alley behind where she lives, they move through the shadows to a soundtrack of Japanese electronica, and as the stars twinkle, so their whiskers vibrate with joy. When she gets close, I bite my tongue and stare at her… Read more

  After breakfast, I drank a cup of tea and enjoyed a cigarette while soaking in the bath. The radio was on but as my ears were submerged beneath soapy water nothing was audible. It was all just a dirge. Getting dressed, I left the house and headed to the doctors. Haven’t been in nearly… Read more

  A tattered copy of ‘Salem’s Lot to ward off boredom on dreary car rides that stretch from city to sea. A collection of Polaroids detailing my state of mental decline between relationship B and relationship D. Those bus journeys that wormed their way through the local towns and villages, and those women who pulled… Read more

  Tampa Bay. Clogged veins and ovarian cysts. Your memories, your precious heart that won’t let go. You’re a good luck charm, and no matter where you are, I can feel you calling. The more I write and embrace what it is to be alive- the less need I have for others. Dreams of unicorns.… Read more

  We walk on shattered glass and breathe in the stench of stale beer. There are no lights, and nor are there sounds, just our sweaty palms in knowing what comes next. Nudity. Oneness. All kinds of blemishes and shame in revealing what we are. You and your stretch marks, me and my belly. You and… Read more

  Smeared ink on her belly. Lyrics. Poetry. Prose. I dip my fingers in the pot and scrawl whatever I please from her belly to her breasts. Alienation. Cancer. Secrets concerning the loss of virginity and the first time I touched a vagina. Squeezing tight, sunlight illuminates the flesh of my eyelids and the whole… Read more