Kyle MacK

You can’t kill me when I’m already dead.

I was at a standstill, unable to differentiate my happiness between dread and my feelings of euphoria for melancholy. My sense of stability had been compromised and the underlying fabric of my reality began to expose years of pulls and tears.

Nights Like These

It is nights like these where I want to sleep for days on end. It is nights like these where I give myself up to an alternate authority and let my soul drift away. It is nights like these where I do not want my body, where I want someone else and to be who…

Aura of a Good Man

The cold had stunned me. It was the beginning of April, but the clouds held onto the winter chill. I watched the curtains dance in the wind, casting shadows around the bedroom. I lay on my back feeling the wind create goose pimples on my skin. It was six in the morning, and I was…

Judas.

The Judas kiss – The touch of betrayal, the caress of a liar.

Tiny Furniture

I would hear his name resonate through my mind. Bouncing off every muscle, digging itself into each cerebral space.

A Conclusive End

As we move through the tumultuous motions of obscurity, we brace for impact as we feel the lurch of time overpower our very will. Through careful thought and waiting, one cannot lose.

The Nightmare

The proverbial bridge had burned, but one question remained: Could we be salvaged? The charred ash of fundamental stability was holding onto the remaining beams that kept us together.

Cigarette Shadows

We embrace the world with black tar lungs, and pretend we don’t know any better. If it were not for mistakes, for death, and for heartbreak, who would we be? I don’t know.

New York State of Mind

I wondered why we could not separate, and I wondered why we could not break apart. It could be our disposition, or it could be our inability to purge one another, but It was as if we had dug our own graves yet we were too afraid to be buried alone.

Best New Scents 2017

The brilliance of Libertine Fragrance is in the opposition of scent – Pairing conflicting elements into one scent that forms this strange yet mysterious, systemic unison.

The Parisian

What would happen If I let the wind guide me and I fell deep into the waters? An elderly man was walking along the pier, gazing out into the water. Surely he would save me. I pictured the water piercing my skin, the ice cold current digging thousands of tiny blades in my body.