and when I’d shout through the letterbox

‘Sweetheart. Please. You’re living in a murder house!’

you’d simply reply, ‘Then why aren’t I dead?’

and pad softly away…

— Caroline Bird from poem The Murder House

‘

• There’s A Good Possibility That You Won’t Get What You Pray For
• I Know You Are There By How Often I Feel Your Absence
• To Love Is Not About Merging
• Infinite Distances Continue To Exist Even Between The Closest Of Human Beings
• To Be Loved Means To Be Consumed