I can’t bear the thought of sleep; every night I surrender is another morning I wake with that fog overhead, weighing me down, seeping the strength from my bones.

Winter Rose

I used to wonder if I should have brought you flowers, like I was afraid that my words would never be enough.

Tobi Kaye, November 9th, 2016


As a child I remember barbecues in my grandparents’ garden, an alcove by the greenhouse, sheltered by the trees. I remember labour in the sun, my grandfather’s strength, my grandmother’s kindness. Their garden… Continue reading

Shir Madness, October 28th, 2016


There’s a fog forming over the horizon, creeping down from the mountaintops and spilling over trees; a static of the senses, a dampening disease.

Faustina Finnerty, August 3rd, 2016

Sean Leonard, July 2016

Emma Roberts, May 2016