“Of all ghosts the ghosts of our old loves are the worst.”
Toby Dylan Poetry Posts
This one was written one morning as I woke up and heard the unforgiving sound of the rubbish collection truck outside our house.
Stasis
I feel uncertain and unsettled like there are shards of illusions piercing my skin.
The Rain
If you were to cut through me I’d probably bleed puns.
Take residence in my arms
