If I hold your head you’ll stay awake, won’t you? You’ll keep your eyes on mine until they come. You’ll hiss through your drool that you’re sorry. You’ll try to smile but your smile will be filled with demons. You’ll squeeze my arm weakly. You’ll smell of vomit and plead for forgiveness. For what? It’s you after all. You’ll keep afloat in this world until they come to jab you back…if I hold your head in my hands again.
Published by Richard Holt
A writer from Melbourne, Richard maintains a number of blogs exploring very short fiction and text-based art practices. His stories and poems have been published in both mainstream and alternative journals and collections. He is also a visual artist and was co-founder of both Platform Artists Group and zine store, Sticky. He continues to publish very short fiction and conduct microfiction workshops for practicing writers, students and others. He has created numerous text-based installations and artworks for public spaces, including at Federation Square, Melbourne and in conjunction with the 2017, Newcastle Writers Festival. View all posts by Richard Holt