The Illustrated Man

His canvas is withered; once a gallery display, Now ‘distasteful’ graffiti on recycled paper. If auctioned back then, they would’ve been collectible, Now faded, only fluorescent in sepia photographs.   Once young and kicking, but that’s forgotten, as if his art’s backdrop was always creased mess. Once complimented, they’re now ignored, Like taboo patterns on …

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Sanitary

When I was twelve, I thought I was dying “pre-adolescent, bleeds to death,” Crimson-stained, battle-scarred knickers Sat in the comfort of the toilet cubicle stuffing DIY bandages in the now-nappy of my underskirt   The unspoken word, the insult; euphemism (‘time of the month, love?’) Hidden parcel of embarrassment amongst groceries; Scanning the over-priced assistance …

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‘parent’s’ house

what you thought you knew becomes just recollection a story you tell uncertain if it’s a photograph performed or someone else’s words home for christmas, your walls, the framing deems artificial the positioning is different, you’re new ‘student life’s changed you’ they say as your clothes reek of half-price laundry detergent your eyelids coated in …

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