My shadow carries knives and bullet slings. And I didn’t miss it one bit.

I knew it wouldn’t be long –

But why now?

Couldn’t you just give me this moment?

 

 

YOU’RE TEARING ME UP INSIDE

YOU’RE TEARING ME UP INSIDE
YOU’RE TEARING ME UP INSIDE

YOU’RE TEARING ME UP INSIDE

YOU’RE TEARING ME UP INSIDE

 

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Windsor’s Battle with Coffee Dreams and Paper Glasses| Art by Myung Keun Koh

When everything I ever write has been written before,Myung Keun Koh

When one’s last supper is another’s break from fasting,

When the shoes you wear will be worn again,

When the friends you make have made their own,

When the seeds you’ve chucked someplace else sown…

The sugar-glass in these glasses won’t see your print

on a world so small, you barely fit.

Eraz Her | Art by Patrick Woodroffe

Patrick WoodroffeIt’s been gone for so long now that I’m starting to think that maybe it never even existed.

 

I’m talking about my razors.

The ones I kept in the box under my bed.

The ones I took out over and over again and then placed them back, burying deeper into the folds of my notepad each time.

Except the last.

 

Tomorrow must be churning the butter from my brain spews.

Am I going mad, spinning delusions from the abuse

I put myself through?

 

Were my razors there?

Or had my parents knew…