In the glove compartment, there’s a paper orchid. In his pocket, there’s a stone with his lover’s initials carved deeper than love. The sound of laughter, and the rattle of teeth from a mouth that’s tasted death more than it should’ve. Bellies of desire that sit hunched in pain and anguish. The beautiful ones… Read more

  As she drinks a milkshake in some seedy downtown cafe, a thousand foxes have their bellies torn open in an act of vengeance carried out by those who have no names. As the blood creeps to our feet, a sudden downpour saves us from being tainted, and I smile, although I’m not sure why.… Read more

  There’s something in the way her photograph lingers in the back of my mind. It comes alive after several beers while listening to ‘Finally We Are No One‘. Such a mixture of sadness and beauty that remind me of lying in bed as a child imagining what it would be like to die. She must… Read more

  Each word renounces the life we have chosen to leave behind. Every sentence that follows, an act of defiance in the face of those that wanted so much for us to become more for real. Surface beauty tempts, but surface is surface, nothing else. The comfort of what they sell is a difficult bitch to… Read more

  Dreams of being strangled by my mother’s umbilical chord as I fall out of bed and land in the summer of ’06. Market stalls and mouth organs while rolling cigarettes as the rain comes down so hard it makes me want to take her right there and then, yet my thirst for alcohol can’t… Read more

  There’s an infinite sprawl of tiny memories that come alive when I catch an hours sleep after work. They dance and fit behind my eyes, but every time I try and catch them, they slip away leaving me to fall. Dreams of buildings, of green lawns and summer sun, but something is missing, and… Read more

  Scrawling black lipstick on her belly, I draw symbols that represent her sex and images of feral cats. She speaks of love, but my hands don’t care, they only have designs on what she looks like beneath those dreary clothes. Those breasts; how my mind races at the thought of what they get up… Read more

  In the back room, the place where I break myself, she ties me to a chair and pours wax on my chest while making me watch old snuff films. Her favourite involves an Indonesian thief being beheaded. It’s a bit shakey, but the look in his eyes has never left me. There are others,… Read more

  There are no words, only particles of faith that slip between my fingers as the wind blows against my window. There are no giddy heights to fall from. No sentiments that can ease a bruised soul. There is, however, a sense of beauty that few these days seem to be in possession of. How… Read more

  Numb to others, the landscape blurs past the window as lights shimmer like cats eyes in the distance, but I’m too tired to find them beautiful. Catching a handful of air as the car speeds like the shadow of a bullet, all I want is to eat junk food and take hour-long baths. To… Read more