May, 2016

I am only two years, seven months older

two x’s don’t bother me now

and they came round 


this summer, remain adamant 

name is going to be Aaron, one who is a mountain of strength 

it might sound incongruous at first, but we answer to nothing else now 


salt will remain on brazened cheeks for a long time

we will relapse

I can’t promise that habit has died, even to date


a relationship will form, and it will cling on, a malignant tumour 

purple hair and promises and gigs-



our passport is shiny and new

sex: male

name: legal




bonfire; it’s June 2018

these people are true

two years and seven months

This poem is about: 


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