Nathan William Meyer
Jelena Petrović

I find myself to be a place.


A place ‘where the actual and the imaginary meet’. A place where I go to listen to metal music, the only one that helps me find peace. Where I go to read books and breathe (both of which I do painfully slowly). Where I go to ‘sit down and bleed out’ on the paper and maybe get a chance to write something down.


I am made of fire and water. Also, my birthday is in December.



(Fucked up beyond all recognition)

Despite everything,

I know I’m just cannon fodder for you.

Despite everything,

I know the only place I belong is by your side.

Despite everything,

I am mute when you start making promises.

I am blind when you fail to keep them.

I am deaf when you lie.

Despite everything,

Your body is my base camp.

Your hands are my hideaway.

Your mind is my ammo dump.

Your goodbye is a gun to my head.

For all that, I’m alone again.

Despite everything, I’m still thinking of you.