And when I’m in a tub of my own
Vanilla-scented filth, hugging
My thighs & scraping my knees
With my teeth – I am happy.
When I am biting at my flesh,
Feeling my spine stretch
Like a mountain – when I am
Bone and war, when gravity
Pulls my nose towards the water,
And I am a threshold between
Microclimate – hot & cold bumps of real-life skin –
When nothing matters,
When the rolls of flesh don’t matter,
The prickle-hairs don’t matter,
The goosebumps, the blotches of red and white –
I am a mountain wrapped round my thighs,
And I love my body.
And I want no one
To share this moment with me.

-s.f. (2014)



Are you teething on your own skin?
Swallowed up by the littlest things?
Sewn together with small pins
In all the places where light would’ve been?

Everybody’s running, but we don’t know what from –
Could be a rich man or a gun
Or something bigger than us;
Are you just another piston?
Are you just another piston?

People love talking like they can’t see,
Love spewing venom on everyone’s beliefs;
Who do we blame when we’re all screaming
“It’s not me, not me, it’s society!”

I made up my mind about it when I was young;
I’m not gonna run in circles while the world’s blowing up,
Like I’m just another piston,
Like I’m just another piston.

The taste of metal in my mouth,
I’m in charge of when it all comes down.

All it takes is a small break
All it takes is a
Small thing.

Quality is never built to last;
So are you really living
If you aren’t living fast?