You are a small village, located in the south of England. Secluded, safe, you can't see into the shadows. We are in the shadows, behind the tree line, we are the wolves, red on our lips, we are hungry and it's your blood we're after.
You say we're lost in phone screens that will one day melt our brains. You say we don't talk like you used to talk, around dinner tables, over your Sunday roast, family dinners. But you were speaking empty words. I say we are the ones you're scared of. We are everyone, we hear about what… Continue reading Millenials don’t care.
One of my favourite poems of mine, about the places I have lived. Let me tell you where I’m from. First the estate with squares of houses. Where the neighbours bricks reflected in our windows. Where girls played football on the car park, and the boys played football on the green. Where the old man… Continue reading