​The possibility of being

The bursts of euphoria in your head. The memories of the firsts wading into the thoughts of could be-s. The molecules implore you to run out, pass through. Steal a glance. Convince yourself.  She exists.  The repeated splashing of water, wiping your glasses when you look up and the haze tells you that it's not … Continue reading ​The possibility of being


​The pin called reality

The 'safety' pin, overgrown nails, the palpable pressure of the aggression you never knew existed.  One sharp prick, enough pressure, and there it goes.  I dislike the sound. I dislike the impact. I like balloons. In shapes and colours. Especially the ones that refuse to stop the sky.