Mondays

And every Monday since I was 14 has been a promise of being better, broken by the fingers of Tuesday morning. And this isn’t where I’m going to end up, but it’s kinda nice here. […]

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walking zoe winther

Maybe…

And maybe my heart is too broken and maybe my imagination runs too wild and maybe this is just a form of self sabotage: breaking my own heart, longing for moments that linger on my skin. And maybe this isn’t art but it could be. […]

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What would it mean to not change?

To not hear that you’re interested in comics and so delve into my high-school brain to share something about DC so you’ll like me. So you’ll know I’m not just a Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn poser? What would it mean to not tap into the limited car trivia learnt by a second grader to impress […]

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Well, he came back.

And stayed in my bed. And felt so thin. I told him I was grown because I had a linen duvet now, and a second pillow. I had a picture of us, hanging low on the wall. I realised egg powder was in my jar of spackling. So he asked me if I was vegan […]

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I thought about you today.

Thought about the dimples burrowing in your cheeks, and the warm breath softness of your skin. I wondered what you’re wondering about,  what your hopes and dreams are, what you wake up each morning thinking about. Are you a dewey morning person or a sacred night owl? I wondered what your favourite colour is, and […]

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