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 AdvertisementsRead more "Courteous"
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, 2018Read more "Normal People"
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, 2018Read more "Bombing for Peace"
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 […]Read more "Blessed"
Streetlights and shopfronts softly lit the night as we hid in plain sight from the city’s prying eyes and your dreaded distant friends, just so we could kiss as if the world was going to end. I didn’t want to have to hold you under cover of darkness, but I’m loath to admit that it […]Read more "Hometowns and Religious Upbringings"
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 […]Read more "I’m Here"
You are my heart rate. You are my dilated pupils. You are my misspent time in grimy cubicles. You are the shakes I get these days. You are the time it takes for me to cave before I give up going dry. You are the blade of my knife. You are the love of my […]Read more "How Are You Not Dead Yet?"