I’m sorry I forgot your birthday. Remembering the day you were given to us is the least I can do. The least, after all you’ve done over the years; perfectly toasted toast for supper, lego bricks and piano lessons, riverdance and rhubarb dipped in sugar. © Kristiana Reed 2019 https://soundcloud.com/user-798168065-197387209/rhubarb
On nights like this when I close my eyes I cannot tell if I see daggers or stars glinting in the only light that’s left. © Kristiana Reed 2018
I’m trying not to think about how quickly your departure will tear my heart asunder. © Kristiana Reed 2018
Without her, he forgets how to breathe; he becomes a shore which only says goodbye sending waves away with seafoam kisses, his arms are crossed and his chest tight, water pooling by his toes never reaching his knees. A lonely shoreline and distant horizon washed orange and blue until she takes his hands, kisses each … Continue reading Breathe with me
Reading a book in the window seat. Glass of water, carrots, cabbage and mince. I wrote this poem, if you can even call it that, in a restaurant at lunch time. This restaurant is cosy, small but always busy; a place for families, friends and young couples. Therefore, it was a surprise to watch as … Continue reading The Usual Jenny
Blinding light pulling dark velvet apart, stretch mark cracks whistling like water as sunshine sears through nightmare skin, every sin hung, drawn and quartered. © Kristiana Reed 2018 Image: pinterest
I’ve been asking for love since my hands were smaller, and my eyes were wider. love isn’t what you wanted, instead you were disappointed in anything other - than the complicit retelling of a childhood, of fractured bones, of a ‘happy’ home. © Kristiana Reed 2018 Image credit.
She wanted to be wanted; to be written about in a 'the world cannot end until I've kissed you' way. Not used like china, porcelain or clay; something to be shattered and shaped, slipped into the fire to bake. © Kristiana Reed 2018 Image credit.
The pitter patter of rain interferes with tyres, the roll of rubber I'm listening for, and as it swirls down the drain the only thing I can think of is calling out your name. © Kristiana Reed 2018 Image credit.
I want to listen to bird song and reminisce about love, about your touch. Hands which are presents to open, unwrapping each knuckle, finger and thumb. A tongue which unfolds like Christmas ribbon in my mouth, brushes my lips, a kiss. © Kristiana Reed 2018 Image credit.
