Poisoned by my storm
Your city looks so different without you holding my hand, lovely. Rose-tinted glasses on the back of my nose painted it bright in the slow-burning heat of last July. Sometimes, I wonder, how you’ve been.…
View PostYour city looks so different without you holding my hand, lovely. Rose-tinted glasses on the back of my nose painted it bright in the slow-burning heat of last July. Sometimes, I wonder, how you’ve been.…
View PostWhat is love, in these modern times, dedicated by cellphones and lives lived through creations of ourselves that couldn’t be further away from the truth? Drawn by phone conversations, kisses at the end of the…
View PostOn our last facetime call, you asked for a letter. More specifically, a letter in your inbox, a week after we called it quits, from the writer you dated. You walked out of my life…
View PostI always knew this day would come. From the day we sold her house and moved her into her room, a care home with bright yellow branding, and orange curtains everywhere, making the light look…
View PostI am back in the blue melodrama of my teenage years, maybe that’s the magic effect of spending the majority of my time in a room I used to listen to “teen idle” by Marina…
View Post