• Hannah Flowers

i sit in the entryway from the back hall into the bathroom and chip away at the old paint from the door frame mindlessly similar to the way i imagine you chipped the soul from my body inch by inch, lovelessly i try to make sense of things as i lie on the ceiling but the world won’t stop spinning long enough for me to think and i don’t want to sleep because when i do i dream of you your skin, soft and warm hue of ivory with a peachy tint your eyes, deep and dark like the autumnal evening sky time runs backwards and still, i race against it even in the company of friendly faces i nurse my drink and fade out of view when i say that i want to go home what i mean is, i want to go to you

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(un)holy ground

what once was sacred is cursed perhaps it could be worse the temple at which i’d pray overrun now by this wraith my messiah led me astray that’s what you get with blind faith my friends were also fool

you were a house.

can you feel me looking at you? can you hear me whisper to the moon? in the same way i felt you refrain heard the breaking of these chains as i tried to hold onto your frame after i had been an earthq

candles / spores

you asked me to meet you in a dream yes, i will, i replied swiftly for a moment’s pleasure seems far more important than honesty. have you ever watched a mushroom grow? some have spores which, at nigh