locking myself in under the covers feels liberating, as the universe unfolds within, and the world feels desperate as it always does. scraping off the luxury leftovers off the keyboards of my mind institutions, my fingertips leave smudges on the glassy quick dry top coat lenses. closing my eyes into blindness to feel the edges of this golden cage, gold to display the...
the pieces that i have built up; fragments of pictures that make up the whole, staring back at me through the mirror glass with a raised eyebrow; the hole behind it full of visions of fights and bright lights romanticised through the tame curtain that lies on my real nights. waking in bed full of tiredness, still not dirty enough for you, the...
to go, and to come back, and feel home in all the tips of the world that matter; i don't want to say grateful, but days are full of great gestures, maybe it's finally time for heroes, the ones to wear shiny capes and spit in each other's faces. the wide open sea lies next to me as i roam around this tiny...
