You're the favourite month's follow up, Your own pity is enveloped by the rest of us. Everyone, fixated on diet, low-fat, gym crap You exhibit hibernation, yet you're everyone's favourite word. The talk of the town, you people person, you, 'I'll get fit for January.' 'It's January, new year, new me!' I pity you, first … Continue reading Dear January,
I remember the first time I traced your spine that felt like velvet. Memorised the coordinates of your collarbones with my nervous lip. I remember the laughter, the sweat, that unfamiliar. The glow of your skin, lighting my way home. Your eyes lit up like sparklers in November twilight, and guided me in line with … Continue reading Coordinates
your head placed naturally on the pillow of my lap, it's cramped (with crumbs and coffee stains) but we make-do, being each others' lucky coin or soft toy rabbit. the train, it's going faster now, it's chaotic and we share one set of lungs. breathing amongst foreign character is more comfortable when shared. it sounds … Continue reading the effort halved
One year encompassed by my heart strung across Paperchase postcards; a tangible copy of my soul, now sat waiting in your College pigeon-hole. Legs intertwined amongst our make-shift bed of blankets and last night's sweat and lust. With you, lust isn't temporary, lust is sick to my stomach, a comforting nervousness. The way your … Continue reading This Beating Shape
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
Her skin may need an iron’s once over, Its pigment is brash and fuchsia. But she smiles more than she did back then, So why bother with that cosmetic nonsense? Her day’s dictated by today’s timetable. ‘Lost’ doesn’t exist, ‘it’s adventure’, she insists. Quarter to the hour, or ten past, The maze of her head, … Continue reading Lady of the Bus
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by validation from Instagram praise, and seeing the world through their phone’s camera lense. Who absentmindedly critique a stranger’s outfit, or snarl in envy at her relationship, advertised on Facebook like a billboard. Who forget their friend’s birthdays, for memory is unnecessary when notified by an … Continue reading HOWL (Allen Ginsberg) – My version