End of days 12
A serialisation of 200-word chapters. Drugged up in the asylum director's office, our hero remembers his holy sword ...
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Petal
Round, flat, bright and beautiful, the intensity of your colour attracts all creatures great and small. Sweet, Soft, Lingers your scent; a mesmerising blend of all things delicious.
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I just can't word it
Its a bit odd, this feeling, It sort of rattles inside my ribcage, Jiggles in my belly. Every time hear your voice or see your smile, I cant help but feel; Delighted Uplifted
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Un-Authorised access
A poem I wrote when feeling a lot of dark emotions.
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London in the Summer
If this city was like this all year round I'd never want to leave. If the long shadows stayed forever I'd stay until the end. If people were always this happy I'd smile at everyone.
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The Idle Pen
For someone who is an aspiring writer I still never seem to Find a pen when I need one; Much less a crucifix. Eventually, though, After I’ve checked under Every book Piled on my bed,
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Whiskey Filled Sunsets
I used to give a fuck about you, Darling: The way you always sat there In that cozy cafe And listened To my circular analysis Of the anti-aesthetics In modern poetics.
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