She paints me as some morbid drinker, but it’s just not true. I’m misunderstood. A painter who’s lost his way. Tonight she sticks needles into the fleshy bit between my balls and arse. She says she read something in a magazine about how it prolongs erections. I think she does it because she likes… Read more

  Something about Sophie. A piece to detail how fleeting she was. Those blood-red gums. Those eyes that grew so wide at the mysteries that awaited her in London. Write about the curls of her hair. Write about sheltering from the rain under market stalls and her refusal to kiss me because of my cold… Read more

  When I put the ring on her finger, she whispers something about electricity. As she bites through the string I’ve tied around her wrists, she presses her body against mine, but I’m drunk on two bottles of wine and can barely stand. There are bees and butterflies in the garden, and the sight of… Read more

  There’s no explanation, yet she’s always looking for one, just like the rest. All they ever seem to do is constantly search for answers- anything that will give them meaning. But there’s no meaning to any of this. The days tick away, as do so many lives that pass without merit. Words can shine… Read more

  Sometimes, I insert a bicycle pump into her vagina and pump her full of despair. I used to pump her full of my love stuff, but the days are cold, and I’ve grown to resent all that she stands for. I’m not sure if my actions are perverse or an attempt to humiliate. Maybe… Read more

  A girl with searching eyes that know my tricky desires. I try and pretend I’m too old, but it’s useless, for the older I get, the more pointless it feels to be lying. When you’re young, you try and pretend you’re normal; that everything is fine. That life is great. This I once attempted… Read more

  While looking at decade-old porn, I attempted to lift weights for the first time in years. It didn’t go well, though, and after twenty minutes of agony, I gave up. It came about as an effort at looking after myself due to self-neglect of shameful proportions. Writing makes me inactive. Coupled with drinking and… Read more

  The first books read at university puked upon in a drunken haze some Friday evening after a dozen pints and a kebab in the center of a strange new town. As a matter of fact, it was the only kebab I ever ate in my entire time there. Some of the books were saved;… Read more

On my way to work last night, I was chased by a badger. At first, I heard its paws on the concrete, and then as I turned the corner, the black and white of its fur came flashing into view beneath a streetlight. Sidestepping out of its way, it changed direction and charged. Pounding the… Read more

  She comes around with wet hair and demands I strip naked and wash my cock. When I do, she sinks her hands into the bath where I lay submerged and grabs hold of me. Her fingers peel back tightened flesh, and as her eyes pick away at my dirty truth, the rivers of the… Read more