She Bled Red Wine

I wrapped her, in red ribbon. I breathed against her skin, and heard her thoughts crashing against the inside of my skull, like bones clicking when stretched too far. She ached. Though I didn’t know why. Nor could I ask. Not yet. Her eyes changed colour with each mechanical snap of the lens. A flash … More She Bled Red Wine

Only Joking

Close the door, please. Open the window please. Stand, in the shadow of the sun. Smile. Make eye contact with the devil’s souls. The ones that leave trails. Fingerprints. Scents. Dance. Mingle. Laugh. Breathe. Mouth the words to myself: Stay calm. Have a drink. Sink; into the temporary release that comes from the gift of … More Only Joking

Gone.

… after she died I breathed in the sorrow of everyone else. It was so thick and so heavy. I didn’t bend. I didn’t lean. Or need from anyone. I let it all unfold, and I let them all grieve in the way they they needed to. Then, someone showed me the video of her … More Gone.

You Left Me Here.

When the sound of sirens become as real as the yellowing bruises that stained your skin like cigarettes. When I begged you to stay; Please don’t go. But you left yesterday. And again today. Your time here is as unpredictable as the discolouration on the face of a battered woman. I missed you before, then. … More You Left Me Here.

For Shaida

If I could pull the night stars down, like wallpaper. Peel it off in strips and roll it up like gift wrap, I would, and I would store it in a drawer. Tuck it away, and hold on to all those stars. Keep them. Save them. For a day like this. For a day like … More For Shaida