No lousy poets, and no talk about love, either. No mention of the future or empowerment, just coffee and toast and the emptiness of the morning after the night before. Forget romance, all I want is for you to cradle my bones and keep me safe for a while. Wrap me up in black… Read more

  Wiping my face and sucking on a cigarette, I glimpse a lynching on the streets of a Brazilian Favela, and the sight of man’s inhumanity to man is enough to take my mind off how much I want to see her suffer. Well, at least for an hour or so. As some slum kid… Read more

  The glow of angel eyes and the scent of lemon drizzle cake that reminds me of her mum’s old place. A car ride to a strange town that still contains her ghost and where the air tastes like the strip of flesh behind her left ear, the area I rest my nose against while… Read more

  Drink some beer, listen to Jeff Buckley, and stab yourself in the chest until you feel something. Those are my three tips on how to become a better writer. When you shimmer and pulsate, mutilate your heart, and then, once you come alive, begin work on destroying your mind. Disturb yourself until being disturbed is… Read more

  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