Part of my places project. CW: eating disorders, eating disorder behaviours and thoughts, mention of sick Life repeats itself in various...

I know what you mean, though you don’t quite say it. You thought, by now, that you’d be living with the more ordinary metaphors, but...

CW: eating disorders The cliffs are two arms that wrap the waves up in a safe embrace and the evenings are the calmest shade of blue. You...

It’s kind of funny how the place I feel the greatest semblance of hope for the future is at the top of a cliff, no cordons to keep me...

It's not real, but when it comes down to it, neither am I. Just a ghost, rattling round inside a tin can body, just a collection of ideas...

(The beginning of a possible new poetry project, that may or may not happen, about places and me) (CW: Eating disorders, inpatient...

They look in her face and call her sweet, bright names: she’s the angel girl; she’s Galatea refined. Her dresses are the rich red of...

Let’s say I was born and then I died but I got stuck – an unalive thing caught up in flesh. Let’s say I’m a ghost and no one knows it yet...

While I can hardly claim to have known her, it feels like an inaccuracy to say that I didn’t. What I mean is, for about six months, we...

(TW: Suicide, self-harm) So what if I do die? What if I finally blot myself out of existence – cut the albatross from around the necks of...

So what if I don’t die? What if five years into the future, it’s a warmer day in January and my heart is still beating and I’m breathing...