Let Go.

• 8th April 2015
• 63

 We’re lying in bed and he’s lying. The signs are not as obvious as one might think; no lipstick smudge on his collar, or used condom in his car. But I knew that another Goldilocks had been sleeping in my bed; sitting on my chair and dipping her finger into my porridge. The signs

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Unintended Muse.

• 2nd April 2015
• 13

Why do you write? I write because he didn’t want my love. And I am left with all that he refused- the residual affection, the debris of us in the wake of his hasty departure. And I don’t quite know what to do with it. Unlike a mug or an IKEA photo frame, I can’t

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Aftertaste.

• 22nd March 2015
• 4

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