Necropolis(TwinCity)

Can you stay a while?

Without your flesh all that’s left Are concrete bones, a wet grey. My eyes were that colour once, Before it ended.

@itsanna.r

Storm Colloms

@otrsm

I was once sick outside the Glasgow Cathedral

Moonlight filters into my mouth. I taste stars and talk utter shite but all good poets have a vice, don’t they? Liquid loveliness and the Sunday scarys, what was I saying –observe the Sabbath from under a duvet, pray that nobody saw that Instagram story. (Remember: don’t mix tequila and Chardonnay)

When it’s not long afternoon, I’ll rise pushing the rock and the vertical regret takes on a blur hot groan; the ill shakes; dull thundering pulse climbing the shame from my spine to my ears before the purge and the porcelain, the grout and cracked tile make patterns of my skin.

Reconcile the white with the new bruise before the phone screen lights-up Buchanan green and we fall off the waggon all over again

Text: Rachel Smith

@sillyviaplath

Images:

Eva Lopez-Lopez

@eva.kronos