We teach that the world is an oyster, ripe to be picked, ready to be bitten into; are you sure you want to eat that? Honey, we want what’s best for you, not your opinions. You have such a gift. It would be a shame to waste it; you don’t want to disappoint us do […]Read more "i am LOUD and the world is my oyster"
Alistair is being himself again. The desk is now apple scented. From above, an impatient axolotl scoffs at our ineptitude. I go to apologise but my mouth is full of biscuits. Children run and shout Everything is brown and I Am surrounded by dinosaur books. Don’t try to work in the children’s section. […]Read more "Chesterfield Library (is a dump)"
LITANY IN WHICH CERTAIN THINGS ARE CROSSED OUT, R SIKEN. WHEN THE LAMP IS SHATTERED, P SHELLEY. Love in these two poems is shown to be a complex and layered abstract; both Siken and Shelley use imagery to explore the difficulties of love. They both use figurative and descriptive language to craft deeply expressive poems. […]Read more "THE EXPERIENCE OF LOVE (shelley and siken poetry analysis)"
the worst thing about loss isn’t actually that someone is gone but in that they’re no longer there. You think, immediately after someone dies, the pain can’t get any worse. But. It’s when you turn around and talk to someone and you realise they’re no longer there that it hits you, that there’s no thing […]Read more "there are some things I know I can write about again and again and still not come anywhere close to what I want to say"
Love, hi. It’s nice to see you again. Won’t you come in? I’ve just put the kettle on. That’s alright, just one cuppa. Oh! No, okay, it’s alright, really – I know you didn’t mean to break it – Oh, you’ve got to go? Ok. Hiya Love! Oh, sorry, I’m busy at the mo […]Read more "conversations with love: a metaphor so unsubtle it’s not even really a metaphor anymore."
Space is claustrophobic Which is strange to hear That something quite so infinite Causes such unholy fear The feeling you’re alone in space That nothing, no one, is near The mariner, my ship, my love, While beautiful, it’s true, Is getting to old for space travel I need to start anew But I feel I […]Read more "my first attempt at an epic ballad // Space"
I forget that I’m not part of you any more. I remember when I see the girl you replaced me with. She is me, but vivacious, loud, vibrant; she is the me without her insecurities on her sleeve, a me who knows better than to share all of herself with just you. Your shoulders, like […]Read more "forgotten"