People Watching Again

Watching the world through the eyes of strangers, a cold coffee in my left hand, my right stretches out. Grappling for their dreams, that like smoke on a breeze drift through my fingers, leaving a far-off burning smell to linger and soot to clean. I prefer coffee shops to galleries; I find the best art … Continue reading People Watching Again


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Blurring through days in the carriages of sleepless dreamers, Sitting in the backseat of a burning star, me and her, Looking out into the mists. I once wished - that I could fly, Now I’m drifting, on the ripples of old explosions I didn’t realise that I had missed- my chance to make a wave. … Continue reading untitled poem


Withering colors, in carbonated yellows Rusted green and foaming white, Bubbling leftovers of humanistic pursuit. Rotten corpses of artistic benevolence lining the streets. The scrunched up flesh of unfinished stories, Discarded as fear that their imperfect toxicity might scar a pure white page, Just a bag of waste. Wasted potential Wasted time Waste