Sunday was a bright yellow thread weaved between two papaya trees

Their trunks are young

Your lips are mine

The sickening taste of last night’s argument distilled with 7am headache-


You say ‘I love you,’

I say ‘I know.’


How long should we lie?


Sunday was a bright yellow thread weaved by your cautious fingers

My spine has been arched

Toward your stomach

The cockroaches in the kitchen will stop feasting on Thursday’s mango-


Instead they will flock

To our rotting bodies.


How long will we lie?


7am (self-talk)

Let’s slash


This crawling juncture of sleepy smoke and eyes prised open-

Why not go?

I’ll drag myself through a drunken sunrise and emerge

Alert and sparkling clean-

You’ll be grasping the bones of my wrist looking dazed-

And I’ll laugh:

‘Have you ever seen it this beautiful before?’


A child’s frown-

‘But it’s ugly,

It’s fucked up, it’s a wreck.’

Smile slips-

I was in love with it, a grey that one could sink into and nobody would look for you-

Submerged in a silence and a noise, a humming forest of slick concrete-

You look up and say:

‘I do like this rain though.’

We are soaked through.

7am (self-talk)

self growth/decay

My outline is blurry now

The fade from breath engaging with frost on a window in Autumn,

I’ve left her behind.

Scan for her body in the garden where I’m burying her slowly

as she decides to lay down;


A new heartbeat grows stronger every day

I feel tainted and confident and disgusted,

I want to leave it all behind.

Scan for my exhaustion, sweat layered under my cockiness

Her body’s in the garden,


I’m burying her slowly.

self growth/decay

@ the butcher

Today was another day that I stepped back into that room

The one where flames licked the walls as you spat at me

You spat at me and told me that it wasn’t rape

Take my finger and point it at the head of a girl

Who got drank too much

Wore that dress

Said yes the first time

& Shoot.


Today was another day that I stepped back onto that driveway

The one where the moonlight is pooling red around me

Your hollow teen eyes filling up with alcohol watching it happen

I wonder if you think about all those nights

And cringe now

I wonder if you’ve tried to push it down

Like I have,

Smother it.


Today was another day that I tried to please your ego

By being less loud, less opinionated, less intelligent, less brave

I’m a butcher everyday, I choose which chunk of myself to present to you

To make myself more palatable

So I’ll lie down next to you

All of you

Every single one

& Carve.

@ the butcher


do you ever think about me, how i’m doing


i’m doing fine if you’re asking

if you’re asking when i’m out of breath

looking at another face i don’t care about

out of focus, deep water, salt/

salt in a fresh wound you know the ones

the ones we give to those we think we don’t need

do you remember talking about that shit

or was that too problematic/

it’s been a few years and now you’re just a glitch

my programming skips over your face every month or two

i can picture you walking toward me on the street

to fight or to fuck/

it’s so beautiful when we fight with each other

i feel like the earth is birthing another

better version of itself

one that we can all live on/

but i know you gave up on this a while ago so

here i am

looking at another face i don’t care about

out of focus, deep water, salt.




I am in a new place

I am coiled in the lazy mist on the hilltop the same mist that brought me in on an aeroplane

Remember that flight where you thought you would die?

And I really want a cigarette curling lazily through me,

Because I’m alone and in a new place

I am stretched out in the garden ready to be dug into with new hands; there is soil there that I have turned recently

Remember when you thought you would never feel a sense of calm again?

There are new buds flowering,

They are weeds but they can stay.