RED INK

  I love and lose in circles, scratching at skin tipped in ink, trying to find the truth beneath the colours I’ve let others colour in, hiding the paler flesh I held from view, we always need to hold on to something. I am not comfortable over quiet dinners; too much stilled air coursing through […]

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ATTENTION

I glisten to distract, like a snowflake; the sparkle before the melt. Particles of fleeting perfection floating through the hands of time, falling through all these imperfections. If only my clutch were tighter, truer, if only I knew more of my own truth, too many skins already slipped through, too much prediction put on that […]

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BLINDING LIGHT

Blanket light, blinding in the back seat, not all light is light, the sun can burn through its beauty, the mind can tear through its thoughts as wheels will themselves across these bridges, feet too far from the ground to feel its gravity, we build our own graves along these roadside reveries. Blanket light, burning […]

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I WISH…

— Our lives were lived in London then, 2 boys at play on shades and stages, in 4 bedrooms that couldn’t bind us forever. In arms we sobbed from 1 of our 2 3 seater sofas in our 4 bedroomed house, watching dreams disappearing beneath the ashes of the Apple. Eden had ended for the […]

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TRIGGERS

  We still taste the scent of semi lucid laughter edging over apples being skinned and sweated on extra ordinary Saturdays of sweeping and stews, still taste the crisp coating of confusion beneath smiles barely swimming over tears there was not enough threat to trace. We still trace, still blindfolded, those outlines of imagination now […]

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BORDERS AND BOUNDARIES, NO.17, NAPOWRIMO

  You played your card despite your hand, held your tongue to spite your subjects, you thought I’d miss your words  but sentences  were never your strength. You were a book  too blank to be breached, an unexplored emptiness forgotten before it found  any fondness for form.  All words and drawings by Damien B. Donnelly

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BORDERS AND BOUNDARIES, NO.16, NAPOWRIMO

  For every push, for every jibe, for every spit upon my childhood, my conditioning, my inability to conform, I kept walking onwards  believing I was better, never being allowed  to acknowledge how I’d been broken, how I’d carry  these bullies like bites to forever sting  beneath the skin. All words and drawings by Damien […]

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