By the end, Kenny coughed and spluttered throughout the day. Only when he slept did the gurgling nestled deep in his throat, stop. I knew it was the end - I'd known so for months. It didn't make the goodbye any easier; leaving him there alone, imagining the high-pitched squeal of metal on metal. The … Continue reading Kenny

Little girl

I often wonder what she was really like: the little girl I used to be. I’ve heard so many stories and I’ve imagined so many moments I no longer know which memories are true and which are figments - fragments of pillow thoughts or wandering daydreams.     Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019 Between the Trees … Continue reading Little girl

Ten years

There are times when I think back to the way we were. I see daffodils and endless meadows; cows lying down for the rain. And I hear you. Pubescent and handsome, cut cheek bones and blonde eyelashes. There was an innocence in being eleven, twelve and thirteen before the curtains of the real world were … Continue reading Ten years

Memory lines

I could say, your arms, the horizon, the ocean shore, or anywhere but here.   Instead, the only place I wish to run is backwards along memory lines to encircle the small girl with a face like mine and reassure her everything gets better in time.   Photograph & poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019


My mother’s arms arc gently, paintbrush in hand. She is decorating my bedroom walls with flowers; pink petals, purple shadows and sunshine yellow centres. I watch, sat cross legged in the middle.   Cross legged on a beige carpet, surrounded by the magnolia walls my mother is gracing with her colours, her charm, her beauty … Continue reading Ambrosia

The Vale

We talked more here than at home. It was the only place I could look at you and love you timelessly.   The silence, was comfortable too. No longer punctuated with betrayal and bickering about anything, from the biscuit tin to communism.   I guess it’s all worthless now. It won’t lessen the distance or … Continue reading The Vale