Spilled Ink Gallery

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it’s peculiar,the power of dustfound in the cold spaceswe dream abouteyes openand bre

a rush of waveson the skin,a burn of bloodin the heart.diving headfirst,holding our breath.

the depth of a universelooking down at usas we try to find our waywith shoes untied.

soda pop on the tongue, the fizz andburn in my lungs, this condensation onmy skin; America

i never felt as helpless as i did when i was nine and you were tenand you picked him over me and i s

pleasedon’t look back.the world isonlygetting olderand soon,even the sunwill fallasle

we are artists, deviants and destroyers of the mundane; feel our touch and remember.

i let you pass through my mind silently dripping into the dark sleepy space of my thoughts befo

stars are delicate, we both know that, like hearts or glass jars filled to the brim with dreams and

the greeks called it an abandonment, downfall and darkening of a heavenly body is that what yo

before you kissed me you whispered something so softly only my soul could hear it, and at that momen

you’re smoldering inside my mind, memories consumed like cells of exposed film on fire; a

in reverse the shutter opens, releasing light back into the world.

what is the distance of life, and how much time does it take to travel through?

living now | kpk.

OF WHAT? - k.p.k

hugging my twelve-year old self - k.p.k

i’m doing a month long exploration into my poetry (this is the 5th instalment, i’ll be u

Artificial Sweetener

It’s always so stormy

Hi hi hi so you can now pre-order my book, The River is Everywhere, out from @redflagpoetry ! A

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