Famishment

I found my child one day, looking up at me
She had always been around, but I had chosen not to see.
Her face so relaxed
But her eyes in contrast
Were dark pools of sadness, hungry from the fast.

She had memorised the calories of every kiss and hug
In order to avoid the guilt of indulging too much.
Her tiny bones protruding, her soul undersized
The story of her starvation reflected in her eyes
Eyes so undernourished they had forgotten how to cry.

I found my child one day, looking up at me
I nourished her with acknowledgment
And now I am free.

[Image not owned by me]

The Other Sister Was Picked for the Month of April

I'm pleased to announce that my poem got picked again :) This one meant an awful lot to me so I'm glad it got chosen, especially ast here were far more talented poets entering the competition. At the end of May they compare all four of the winning poems (they do this every four months) and one gets chosen. Hopefully "An Unconventional Love" or "The Other Sister" will get chosen, but for some reason I highly doubt it. But I don't mind too much as I'm glad I have received this much recognition :) This month, the theme for my poem has to be "Food". I'm not sure what I'm going to write about, maybe my past issues with food as I suppose a lot of people will be writing about actual food and in a positive way and I like to be different :) Plus it's very personal to me and when something is close to my heart I find it easier to write about...it's almost natural.

I'm currently putting together a book of my poems, complete with illustrations. I don' plan to do anything with it, but I like creating little projects for myself :)

Thank you to the people who have been commenting on my writing and have given me encouragement :)

The Other Sister

[Image not owned by me]



We were supposed to meet in the January

Of a million miles ago,
I still sneeze sometimes from the cold I caught
As I waited for you in the snow.
They gave no name to your faceless face
Just an unformed hand to hold,
I held that hand and I always will
Even when I'm grey and old.
Is it wrong to love until it hurts,
To love the unhuman form?
Is it wrong to miss what I never had,
Something that was never born?
I can't deny your brief existence
Although they say I should forget,
A million miles on I still say goodnight
To the little soul I never met.

Pandora's Bag

The handle snapped on my trusty bag
A million miles ago
When I squashed down my heart
And squashed down my soul
Hoping in vain it would make me whole
If I made room for theirs instead.

So I turned the bag on its head
And watched the hearts and souls fall
Thought about it, thought about it a lot
And I left them in the road to rot
My bag is lighter now
But the load I carry is not.



[Image not owned by me]]

Indecision

If I jump from here will I learn how to fly?
Like when I fell in the lake
and learned how to swim?
I can feel posidens grip
upon my skin.
The desperation,
the fear within.
The doors are all the same with no bells to ring,
no handles to pull,
no gaps to peek.
I raise the white flag,
my will so weak.
Could you ever love
a retired circus freak?
I dreamt of you sometime last night.
I blame you for the babies
I shall never hold and name.
For being starved of smiles
and a glutton for shame.
So sad is the sight
to see a clown in pain.
And I dreamt of her the night before.
I touched her arm,
I asked her "why?"
Maybe things will be clearer
when I am up high?
Upon the big top
is where I shall decide -
whether to live,
or whether to fly.


[Image not owned by me]

Theme: Love

I entered a poetry competition and won! The theme was love, being as the competition was held when it was February.

An Unconventional Love
If I never see your face again I'll only mind a little
Or more than a little but less than a lot
I won't remember where you once lay your hands
And where you once lay your head
As I lie where you lay on your side of the bed.

I miss being a puppet trying to sever its strings
I miss cradling those moods of delicate glass
The adrenaline rush when I had cradled too hard
The cowering as I scooped up the mess
The constant strive to be more than second best.

My eyes will be dry when I see you with him
I'll let them be moist, but I won't let them drown
I'm creating false hope that in time I will forget
So I curse the hourglass and praise the V
Knowing it is why you are no longer with me.


[Image not owned by me]