September and I’m twenty. I’ve phoned my mum, 100 miles away, because I’m frightened I’ll die. My hands feel suspicious and I cannot trust my reflection, so tying myself to a Promethean rock seems the only option. I should be living in technicolour - I should be living with joy bursting between fingers and … Continue reading Promethean Sin
ISOLATION "‘Did you say your friends are going out for dinner and then drinks?’ Dee asked from her cotton cocoon. ‘Yes,’ I glanced at the kitchen clock, ‘they will probably be out by now.’ She was referring to my friends from work who had invited me out tonight. Dee’s soft sadness had kept me here. … Continue reading The Dee Diaries #7
'BEING NORMAL' I submerged myself long enough for my chest to tighten and my heartbeat to quicken. It resounded off the porcelain sides and into my ears, throat and wrists. When I rose back out of the water, I opened my eyes to Dee sat cross legged on the toilet seat. I stared at her … Continue reading The Dee Diaries #6
STRESS IS AN OPEN DOOR "She is sat at the bus stop, arms crossed, when I reach her. Her eyes lift to mine as she hears my scattered breaths and clunky steps. I see in hers a hate and kindness I cannot untangle. Necklace chains of every emotion she must have felt in the last … Continue reading The Dee Diaries #5
I know it has taken me a while to do this but signed copies of Between the Trees are now available on Etsy. £12 with Free UK delivery Or $15.99 plus $2.66 for International Shipping. https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/760618337/between-the-trees-poetry-and-prose Praise for Between the Trees: "I have always been a huge fan of English poets and Kristiana’s work is … Continue reading Signed copies: Between the Trees
I know you want me to run - screaming into the hills like the banshee I am in all of your paintings hung in a gallery of shame; each one titled ‘self-hate’. Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019 Between the Trees UK Between the Trees US Available internationally
I believe this to be my redemption; summer sun and daisy yellow, buttercup chin and a hopeful tomorrow. The breeze sings soft, the trees keep in time waltzing like the wheat, the pillowcases hanging out on the line. Buds bloom like friendly hands and stretch upward meeting the endless blue sky and I wait. I … Continue reading Daisy yellow
I haven’t called or seen my therapist in months and I wonder if she worries, or wonders about me as often as she crosses my mind. I found her card while I was spring cleaning which made me laugh and then wince because this is what therapy feels like; cleaning out closets and emptying old … Continue reading Spring cleaning
The road is lined with cherry blossoms. Pink princesses waving me onward. I allow the petals to drift, swift into the open window of my car (the one with the engine light I ignore). They scatter so pretty, settling upon the dusty signs of a car full of life: dead skin and fragments of bitten … Continue reading Scatter so pretty
It rained today; not cats or dogs nor sweet little drips and drops but it was enough to wet my clothes, make heavy feel heavier, and the earth feel closer as it rose up toward me; drenched my fingertips and I felt the weight of gravity. The heaviness which keeps the world turning and my … Continue reading Damp
