top of page

​

Taught skin akin to a rose, Shrivelled

decomposed by her woes though

she has yet to blossom

 

juvenile, barely fertile, she smiles

faded in a dream, weaker, in the distance

a baby’s scream

 

malnourished, her career flourished

languishing in aspirations, ignoring

the foundations

 

withering, stuck in a vison of ambition

dwindling through life neglecting

the present

 

wishing away. A lifetime wasted

devoted to dreams that

were never conceived

Wishing Away.

life as a woman.

Stand behind the yellow line, platform

Nine, resting to breathe in the night

Time twenty-one, zero five, a blow

Of a whistle brings the carriage alive

She enters the vessel

 

Next stop, Northfield

Doors sealed, the metal carcass

A shield, his eyes congealed, lips

Satined wine red, dark rum brunette hair

He sits next to her

 

Calling at, longbridge

Clutching her bag like a snake

Choking it prey, eyes glued

Refusing to obey, her body begging

To be left alone

 

Now arriving at, barntgreen

Give us a smile, don’t be vile, no

Room to escape down the aisle, sly,

Hand on thigh, don’t cry, ignore the guy,

The train trembles

 

This service will be terminating

An ally, much more wise. She knows

She’s not a prize, you don’t owe him anything

No need to be polite, advice held for a lifetime

Women supporting women.

 

Rabbit.

She woke up old finally, alone,

Under the bed, in her arm

A loose thread, not a
tear shed, lying in the

Rag of her nightdress

Its pink as faded

As her memories

 

She was history.

She’d seen the first day of school,

At the gates, tearfully waving

Goodbye, uniform jumper red like

Her cheeks, the kids playing,

Full of joy;

​

Seen up-close

Every move to a new house

Turned into home, she could make

A map to Coventry, Malaga, Studley.

​

Watched

For 19 years as the paint of the

​

bedroom walls

Began to flake;

​

Witnessed the wars,

The brutal battles, remembers

Every door slam, raised voice, bad word,

Banished to her room. She’d soak up the tears

In the arms of the girl, a hug healing

Her wounded heart

 

She woke again, cold

In the dark, in an empty room

Once carefully placed on

A throne of pillows

Now carelessly tossed

Thrown across a vacant bed

A distant memory.

 

Goodnight.

I breathe the scent of you left on your sheets, burning

Wood and chestnut by the fireplace. Whisper quietly

into my pillow as if not to wake you

 

The duvet steps in as your substitute, only softer

and more malleable. I entangle myself in the blanket

press close to feel the rhythm of your breath but nothing

I wake, expecting to hear cryptic gibberish, a piece to

Puzzle together your dreams. Instead, the quiet rumble

Of an engine on a road to nowhere

 

I feel the empty space beside me in my heart, vacant

And empty, I don’t dare cross onto your side, perhaps habit or

Hope that you will return.

i want.

I want to be famous,

I want to be a movie star,

I want the world to know my name,

I want every magazine and radio show and tv broad caster to be desperately trying to get a hold of me,

I want front cover, double page spread, peak time TV, billboards,

I want an Oscar, Emmy, BAFTA, and golden globe,

I want to be a star on the Hollywood boulevard,

I want to laugh with Will Smith, shop with Angelina Jolie, dine with Hugh Grant.

I want to be rich, filthy rich, disgustingly rich,

I want to have a car for every day of the week,

I want a house in every country of the world,

I want to never wear the same piece of clothing twice,

I want everything you can imagine and more.

I want to be happy; I want to be more than happy,

I want to be everything I never could be or will be,

I want to be satisfied,

I want to learn one monologue that I’ll never forget,

I want to hit one high note in a song that I’ll sing for the rest of my life,

I want to learn one dance and feel like I’m the fittest I have ever been,

I want to just be and for that to be enough.

bottom of page