4am snaps at my ankles As the smoke of my joint strangles my throat into a cough. The sky is closed for the night Silent and lonely like my abandoned sheets. My eyes refuse to rest My mind will not lay still For my heart beats and I am alive And sleep ...

My name is a trigger, shooting me back to childhood harder than my father’s fists. Child of a child and sociopathic racist, the home is a desert and it’s full of land mines and egg shells, just waiting for a tiny stumble. Neighbouring blind eyes leave...