Personal

Sadness

I am sad. There I said it. I don’t like to be the sad one. Not that there’s anything wrong with being sad: we all feel like this sometimes, and some more than others. In fact, I’d argue that if you don’t feel sad sometimes then your skin is probably too thick, and you might… Read More Sadness

Poetry

The Vial

Come into my laboratory where I toil over a bunsen burner, pearled beads of sweat on my forehead You’ll find me in a white coat and goggles the Mary Shelley of my time venturing into the dark when all is lost I hover at the abyss: a witch, a mad scientist, a soul doctor risking… Read More The Vial

Poetry

The Gift

I dreamt of you when I was a girl a hazy promise, alien and enchanting The vision bore fruit decades later, a happy union of God, luck and human biology When the time came you slithered out covered in vernix, beautiful from the moment I saw you, a part of myself I did not recognise:… Read More The Gift

Poetry

Frozen

Sadness heaves inside me, waves of rolling sickness Weight has found a home in the midst of my brow, and in the corners of my downturned mouth Spaces flooded with blackness Concrete over springing joy, sucking away momentum And I am frozen in time.

Personal

For My Daughter

Tonight Hana, I am lying here in bed at a childishly early hour writing directly to you because I can find no other way to process what happened.  Soothing words are little comfort, television is hollow and sleep is not possible, although I have tried.  As ever, the solution is to write, to pour all… Read More For My Daughter