Present Tense Delirium Notes on a Plane
Embrace the monster I've become at this altitude, where oxygen deprivation meets social claustrophobia and creates something beautiful and terrible and completely unhinged. Monster.
On Longing
She haunts the frequencies now, compressed into pixels that bear no resemblance to her weight against my ribs. One thousand miles collapse into glass, yet expand infinite when I press my palm to the screen at three am, willing warmth from cold circuitry.
Unapologetic
Survival is not his aim. He wishes dispersion, atomisation, the kind of ending that leaves nothing for mourners to gather around.
The Inventory of My Damage
It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities. I've accumulated poor choices the way some collect scars or lovers; they've become my signature, my calling card.
Without You
There’s a hunger that lives only in absence, in the pause between your steps, in the untouched half of the pillow where I bury my face and inhale whatever’s left of you, your perfume decaying into something sweeter, sadder, more mine the longer you stay away