Immaculate Fracture
Short Story Dead children. Wasn’t that the final trigger? You see death, grown up death – and you become cold to it. You see suffering, brutality, cruelty, you immunise yourself to them and...
Tagged: Shell Shock
Forgotten Light
Poem About Exploitation A desperate grasp for distant lights obscures the dawn surrenders sight what was taken left un-returned what is given all unearned and the open hand becomes a balled up fist...
