The way you feel

A hard but good goodbye.

The Eyes of a Starving Mongrel

Feed me, they say, I’ve never been fed. She’s sitting with her head on my lap now, Drool threatening to leave slimy trails on my bare leg I look at her, daring her to do just that

Outpatients

Outpatients Its the hideous kindness the "oh dear we'll have to try the other arm" the jolly phlebotomist although behind us the curtains are closed and I'm afraid they might be doing

Like a tipped up cup

Like a tipped up cup I let it out grit and rubble into the mouth skip the lip palped me meteors wind eye, heart jump. Bellow into my neck that you want to bite my back
Cherry

Can't quite

Can’t quite And you can’t quite wash the smell of nicotine off your fingers and a friend comes out to you in the rush hour tube and everyone at work is doing lines off the bar
Cherry

She dives like Geena Davis

poem

Thief with the key

The numbness of days that passed With no expectation left Save that it too should pass

Street Wife (13/9/4)

Street life. It's the only life I know...

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