I’ve been leaving these words in a paper trail, just like the feelings I have that read in Braille. These are our lives, framed in part fiction, tracing old lines and caught in the friction.

I’m forward thinking in this whirlwind of nostalgia, playing out the b-side of a cassette that you marked ‘summer’. I welcome creativity and say hello to new situations, these words are open to your own interpretation.

The honeymoon is over but the fireworks just started whilst I’m hanging in the back room with the rest of the broken hearted. Will we recover or will we just relapse? The stereo is screaming “PERHAPS, PERHAPS!”

I’ve got my fingers crossed as I’m falling asleep, in the hope I resurface for the third time this week. Miss Optimism looks sad with her bright eyes closed, like she’s hiding a truth that it kills her to know.

Our resolutions amount to nothing, I make more mistakes than sense. I’m the staples in this centrefold, I’m halfway between the gutter and the stars.

Words by Liam Toms
Art by Joe Latham
Music by Clive Robert Coats

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