There are tiny ghosts in my kitchen. The first one I found swimming in the sugar pot. It holds the spoon whenever I go in and grapples with wispy fingers. Eventually I pull free but my tea still tastes bitter despite the half spoonful of sugar. The second sits and cracks the tops … Continue reading Tiny Ghosts
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
I’d like to tell you a story about a mermaid who saved herself at the bottom of waters so deep you could mistake them for the midnight sky. * Her scales shimmer in sparkling ripples, mimicking the stars. Beneath the pale face of night her hair is deep auburn with slivers of gold. Her skin … Continue reading Rock Bottom – featuring Eric (from My Sword and Shield…)
She trudged through snow, head bent to the blizzard, arms pulled in tightly bracing herself to loop each one beneath your shoulders palms cupping elbows to keep you upright when you believed even the slightest indoor breeze would knock you from your feet. Her bitten fingertips thawed in the winter heat as she flicked each … Continue reading Care in Winter
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
For a friend, a pupil and a version of myself. I've told you this once before, Above the clatter of teacup and saucer, Often depressive episodes reveal more, As the road less travelled feels even coarser. I know, adrenaline only pumps when you think of doing harm, Knuckles white in anticipation, Eyes wide, you imagine … Continue reading Lessons in Loneliness
