I love dark romances. Not because when most responsible heterosexual women who happen to be responsible adults go ‘ugh, he has a neck tattoo’, I go ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph he has a neck tattoo’, no. I like the dark romances because the climactic heart-breaks are horrific. When a criminal or biker or werewolf or … More When I’m famous
I don’t want you anymore that I did yesterday, this desperation is not new and it is not for you. The dull ache is the same low throb that it was a week ago. All you are is the last tangible memory. I don’t want you, I want… I want to have never met you. … More Late night text
The sands were the colour of light. Sun kissed and Persian rug comfy. The sun was was a companion, a friend, a comfort. This was her home. He was escaping snow, she would give anything to see a white Christmas. This was no love. He was like a turtle, on the beach for a moment, … More Beach holiday
To the love letters that could have been written, the boys who would have quoted Shakespeare, the girls who obsessed over them and stored them in perfume. I would have been queen, there would be no awkward phone conversations. No. I would have written, and it would have brought him to his knees. To the … More Ghost of love poems past.