You fucked me to death

The self & other

movement, friction, storm

imprinted

with permanence

Intruder

Oil paint and hand engraving on aluminium

30cm x 30cm | 2025-6

Remnants

Oil paint on aluminium and steel

75cm x 31cm | 2025-6

Abstract artwork featuring silhouette profiles, textured blue patches, and a young man's back with sketchy lines in the background.
Abstract artwork with splashes of blue, green, red, orange, and yellow, featuring a combination of textured and sketch-like elements, of a nude man reclining.
Abstract artwork featuring sketches of muscular male figures, scattered blue squares with ocean images, and colorful lines on a white background.

Fragility fractured (top-left)

Self other storm (bottom-left)

Transcribed within (top-right)

Graphite, charcoal, dry pastel and ink on paper | 2025

Site of a crime scene

Dry-point etching of ink on paper

15cm x 10cm

2025

This artwork accompanies the 2024 poem “The empty crime scene”, below.

A black and white sketch of a human torso, leaning to the left, with a dark, textured background.

The empty crime scene

My body is a crime scene,

To be swabbed and examined,

Not cleaned.

I sleep with the oils,

Of another man's body,

Imprinted on every part of me.

I carry around his DNA,

For an entire 10 days,

But I will carry around his memory eternally.

An emptiness I cannot describe,

Fills me and drains me,

Deep inside.

I feel like I deserved it,

I don't know why,

Maybe he thought I was on side.

Why does my mind,

Excuse,

A man I had never before met.

Why do I have compassion for a stranger,

A rapist,

But for me no compassion is left.

For whilst I carry around his DNA,

His hideous semen deep inside,

He likely does not carry around a thought for me,

My life he'd gratuitously destroy.

Perhaps one day I'll look back at this time,

And say it made me stronger,

But for now I feel nothing,

Just empty hollowness.