A Perfect, Pale Blue*

My mother once told me that hearts open only when broken, And that truest courage is born from a coward’s battle cry. I did not recognise blood when my father’s lips ran like war, all Because my mother spoke in stuttering pinks and lullaby blues. Now these walls pray at night with their palms bent […]

Waiting Room

I sat motionlessly in the dark, grubby, dim, and lifeless room, gently tracing the rim of her emerald ring. The shine that it once gave off was no more; it portrayed nothing of the memory that I had of it. The sound was blurred and somehow seemed to have slowed down, and the only thing […]