Lying in bed thinking about past relationships, I squirm at the mistakes that were made. There are so many it’s almost impossible to remember each one. And where am I now? Still in my dead-end job with dreams of making it as a writer. Looking through the blinds at the stars wondering what will… Read more

  She’s an eraser with a thing for black stockings and not shaving. I say I don’t like it, but she doesn’t care. Smoking my cigarettes as she drive’s us into the night, within the hour I’m deep inside of her. She wears her mother’s curse and has her father’s eyes. I try not to… Read more

  It’s not that I don’t care, or that I think I’m better somehow. It’s more to do with knowing when to walk away. People come and go. Some touch you, while others are mere wallpaper. It’s the ebb and flow of life. There’s a few that get beneath the skin, but mostly everyone you… Read more

  A yawning fox sleeps at my feet. Curled in a circle, it twitches while subdued by its animal dreams. There are no women; they dissolved out of sight like salt in a bowl of warm water. Clutching my pens, they tell me I’m mad, but I don’t believe them. They want me to become… Read more

  Checking for lumps, my fingers itch for the end, but the end doesn’t come. At least not today. Beads of water trickling down my body, I attempt self-abuse but it’s too hot. Losing my footing and slipping out of exhaustion, I pull the shower curtain down and fall to the floor like the woman in… Read more

  Armed with pens to draw bodies I haven’t seen in years, the effect is different to writing, and yet the results stay the same. I once took a photo of her as she slept, and every night for a month I tried capturing the innocence she exuded so effortlessly. Such delicate features she has,… Read more

  An empty swing is the grandest image I can muster. Swaying to and fro in the afternoon breeze, there are dead children playing just out of view, and so I go out of my way to avoid them. It’s too difficult. They remind me of her, and of all those things that were once… Read more

  I remember the ostrich that walked up and down the street where I live, and how in the early hours of the morning, it would peck at my front door trying to force me out into the cold and biting January air. It died soon after, struck by a vehicle with no licence plates. The… Read more

  My heart is made from obsidian; it throbs like body parts that excite at the merest sight of something that merges our fears and perversions like the sounds of a lover screaming by the side of the road. It’s snowing, and as she struggles to cut through the traffic, the one she showers with is… Read more

  Curled on the floor with slender lines of light cutting across my body, the hours of the day pass unseen. Sunshine spilling through half-open blinds, the only thing that could come close to my hangover is being arse-fucked by the devil himself. Attempting to crawl beneath the bed and disappear, my frame won’t fit,… Read more