Prompt: Write a poem expressing something you’ve always wanted to say to someone, but couldn’t to their face.
There is a monster that lives in me.
It paces, drums a staccato beat against my chest,
reaches a fist through my mouth.
I bite before it passes through.
Flesh ribboning under my teeth,
I fall asleep to the bloom of iron and salt
and there are mornings that I wake
with a swollen tongue and sore ribs
and the taste of raw meat on my lips Continue reading “Monster”
The first thing you need to know is this: he loved his mother, and not in the way you think.
I married him because he was tall and strong, and had clean white teeth that shone in his mouth like pearls when he smiled. He courted me in the evenings when he passed by my home from the fields; first with bouquets of wildflowers, then new clothes, exquisitely embroidered. The final gift was a blue dress the colour of the sky. He told me I could wear it at our wedding. He promised he would care for me for all my life, so long as I cared for his mother while he was out in the fields.
That should have been my first warning. Continue reading “The Filial Tiger’s Wife”
Prompt: Write a pastoral poem that is also a poem of protest.
When I decided to take photography a bit more seriously I started watching a ton of photography tutorials on YouTube. I stumbled on the channel Mango Street, and I highly recommend their easy-to-follow videos; I also find them very soothing with the music, voiceovers, and muted colour palette. Continue reading “Fairy Lights”
Every part of you will always be easy pickings for someone else’s forked tongue, so you tell yourself that there is no point in cutting down the loudness of your laugh to make yourself less of a target. It works, sometimes. Continue reading “Loneliness Feels The Same In A Childhood Bed As It Does On A Faraway Island”