I folded three twenty-dollar notes and zipped them into my track pants; beginning the dress-down role I was planning to take on. Each of my silver rings I squeezed off my sweaty fingers and chucked them next to the sink. Next I took out some black eye shadow and rubbed it carelessly over my lidsContinue reading “The Night I Tried To Buy Dope”
Three years after beginning my journey on dating apps, fuck-boi behaviour still slips through, parading as a ‘sex-posi dude who is interested in feminism and indoor plants’. I know. That’s like three red flags I missed. “Did you know that the deadliest spiders are actually those that live underground, like the funnel web?” Isaac awkwardlyContinue reading “Bumble and the Faux-Feminist Brigade”
Dreams hold me hostage In the morning… I fail to rise like a stubborn loaf, a lazy thoughtful oaf Under subconsciousness White sheet Comatose Semi-conscious Sweaty bed hair mess
Like agent, or Citrus. Or that show with the female prisoners. Like a place in New South Wales or Jamaica, Orange Bay.
Above – Sunset from Ruckers Hill (2017)