Courteous

Mother, I know you’re concerned. I’m doing the worst that I can. With time I’ve turned into a man of self-abandonment, and I know you half-understand.   I’m a conclusion you dared not consider. I’m your reflection in your least flattering mirror. – © Sam Hunt, 2018 Advertisements

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Normal People

Death is slow, a journey made from earnest trade-offs that we’ve labelled “trust” and “love”. I tell myself I need to trade again, but I’m out of things to sell. – © Sam Hunt, 2018

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Bombing for Peace

My eyes melted while the sky and the city fell. You shone like the apocalypse and I lost you just the same, a world and history up in flames as I extended hell from the confines of my brain. – © Sam Hunt, 2018

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Blessed

When it rains it pours. My knees are torn like rags as I crawl on all fours towards a never-ending nothing, a perpetual horizon against an ocean of suffering.   My bruises fade for a few more days as the rain melts the snow. Next weekend I’ll bruise again, never reaching out for help until […]

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I’m Here

All the rocks have faded to sand. Bridges rot beneath the sea and haunt abandoned land. Lacklustre hopes of revival die at the hands of supply and demand, while chances of survival have been dealt a losing hand.   I fade away, isolated in the past, dying like an economy which can’t be built to last, reliant […]

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