Topic

Jung at Heart

Where the unconscious refuses to stay quiet. A space for dreams that insist on being heard, for symbols that defy logic—until they don’t. Reflections testing the line between self-critique and self-discovery. A place where poetry dares to play at psychoanalysis—and fails spectacularly.

Don't Embarrass Me

‘How awful it was, thought Tessa, remembering Fats the toddler, the way tiny ghosts of your living children haunted your heart; they could never know, and would hate it if they did, how their growing was a constant bereavement.’ – J.K. Rowling, The Casual Vacancy The ghost is small. Still

Dream of my Dogs

I dreamed last night of impossible births, grey feathers shifting to fur, chirps dancing beneath a strange oak table. My two – Sig and Doof – lying there, old eyes glistening with the weight of years, straining to give me their young. Yet only strange half-creatures came. I whispered to them, just