Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
my father never saw me smoke he didn’t see the way the clouds come out of my mouth and make beautiful shapes in the sultry sky between me and Her. I have never liked the way a cigarette felt between my two fingers but the sight of it between Her Read more
There is something indecent in the way she covers her body. Veins are sliding against the thick undertones of her pale skin, a bone on her elbow and peeks of hair unnecessary but unshaved, all are paving to her chest, filled with oxidants from things not inhaled. There, sitting on Read more
All forms of desire that shouldn’t be desired slither into her young mind. No two thighs touching and the sighs they breath out: consulting. Cautious and crude the raw flakes are dancing. A fresh, soft bow plunged across a clean sky. Flowery revolts and nights spent cleaning after her messy Read more
Five long, sticky and clinging thin, thinner, thinnest: numbering. One small and short, a stubble amongst the firs on her palm, the rest four ticking like ugly babies shoved in a cradle in a casket. The lines bleed out a night’s hard work we cry crimson and one sticks out Read more
She said she never had boyfriends.
But she also said something about
a tulip growing in her garden of daisies –
some unplanned turns that knocked her
perfectly clean, white socks out from
right below her small feet.
Every edge that I jump from; every memory that I try to bury within the freckled folds of my unkempt bedsheets; every word that I take back and fill my half-empty stomach with (never not empty); all comes back like gruel on the back of a bathroom sink. I hear Read more
A distorted girl, too round around the edges no numbing mind still embedding into the malleable mush that her fat, clammy fingers cannot hold yet. But let us still stuff an oversized expectation of casual conformities, forgotten deformities into the thick folds of her feeble soul. Running and glazing, two Read more
