She paid more attention to bird song this week. She heard it at six am and how it had changed by nine. She heard it in the car park after work, she heard it in the trees outside. She heard it at night when she was running a bath. She does not know which … Continue reading She Listened
I like listening to the rain and watching the warm street lamp glow melt into the window frame. Sometimes I hear footsteps too, the distant rumble of traffic and the echoes of birds. I can see the chimney of my neighbour’s house and I can see a magpie or pigeon (they visit most frequently) has … Continue reading Chimney Grass
I go to the woods to feel safe; when I know, alone, walking deeper until I'm lost, I am little Red to the Wolf. Still, my heart rests. It doesn't switch between fight or flight like it does in the moment I approach a bus stop full of people and cross to the other street. … Continue reading The Sound Sunlight Makes
My favourite place to write is in the bath. I have a cut of wood which rests on the sides, allowing me to scrawl like nobody’s business until the pages are damp. Damp pages remind me of how squishy my feelings are - squeezing my heart and soul for coherent thought, art - and how … Continue reading Me and I
It's been brought to my attention I search for happiness in other people instead of myself, in a culture of self love, self care, mindfulness and meditation although they might just be the same thing. I convince myself every morning that I'm worth a reflection, I to do list my time in an effort to … Continue reading Being Myself
Beautiful woman, what are you doing? Tucking yourself in at night, lighting candles and tracing your hipbone. Messy woman, what are you doing? Bathing at midnight to rise at dawn, your old routine overthrown. Beautiful woman, what are you doing? Dates with the dark, a bottle to yourself and eating alone. Messy … Continue reading Eating Alone
I cannot hear the birds like I can in the other room, Just the low refrigerator hum, Yet the sun shines far brighter in here, Reflected in the sud-less leftover dish water, As milk clouds permeate the smooth brown liquid. It is comforting to feel the warmth On my face, hands and the tip of … Continue reading A Cup of Tea
