I am afraid of things
marija K.
that have not yet been named.
Fog and rain
keep me awake at night.
I dream of half-worlds,
places where things exist
only when seen from within.
One day
I will fall asleep
in the belly of a dragon.
I will sleep gently.
No one will take my dream from me—
not the fog,
not the rain,
not the finest murmurs,
those whispering
through the pores of concrete.
I feel the earth
in the soles of my feet.
The air
moving through my blood.
Storms
gathering in my ears.
I walk
between worlds,
hungry
for meaning.
Awkwardly,
I stumble
over something
that may never
have been there at all.
Then I cry.
For a long time.
Like a small child
who cannot tell
whether something has been lost,
or whether it simply—
was dreaming.
A word will never feel safe
in a world
that does not love the truth.
Inside me,
a great bell of tin
keeps ringing.
Forever.
Photo: Max LaRochelle
Read our “Camouflage” issue in full
RAWGUE.’s 4th issue delved into the grey, moody, and cold atmosphere of winter. Yet it did not sink into the depths of madness or depression. Instead, it embraced this season of hibernation, allowing 31 artists from all over the world to present their timid work beneath a veil of quiet beauty.
My work explores traces of human presence in spaces we leave behind, as well as the emotions that remain in their absence. I am drawn to places and moments where something feels both present and quiet: rooms, abandoned objects, and fragile everyday scenes shaped by time and memory. Through photography, I try to preserve the subtle tension between presence and absence, capturing atmospheres and feelings that are often invisible but deeply felt. Based in Serbia.
