We want it so much that we succumb to the illusion. Talking circles with a distinct sort of nausea. Flagrant on our own accord so don't believe every thought you think, fool.
Madness and Monotony
I am tired / of being tired / don't mistake my / helplessness for laziness / if i could do something / I bloody well would
Heads and Tails
I am not such an interesting creature. I talk about moss, I dream of fog. I am a prawn head on crustacean shoulders.
Habitat
Our bare walls are created upon against their will, sculptural relics to activity all of which is good even when bad.
1093 Miles from Home
A poem about sexual assault.
Special Kind of Hell
"It's a special kind of hell my dear, i wish you never feel / But if you do, know that you can and will heal"
The pernicious hierarchy of self
"Don’t tell me battered minds matter / less than bruises"
Soft, soft eyes
"Tell me / Where it hurts the most"
Paris and Helen
A poem by Nikita Tilak
