Dear baby brother (affectionately, Tiny Turd), I'm sorry that you’re stuck here with me, stuck inside a building you've lived in all your life. I'm sorry that you can't go out and see your friends, that you can't go to wherever it is that's cool to hang out these days - when I was your… Continue reading Letters From Lockdown 7: South
Let my clothes hang off this body Swaddle the frame so I don’t have to see The contortions of its joints Bent out of shape Twisting to fit into places I should not have gone Places I wish I could From years of ballet lessons And attempts at gymnastics A fractured rib and A broken… Continue reading Untitled #37
The sky is grey Pathetic fallacy A sluggish mass of metal Heaves through the hidden away station Of a sleepy little town In the middle of no where But it was your somewhere wasn't it? It allowed you to escape a Claustrophobic city For a few blissful hours And breathe green air Wander along canals… Continue reading A Day In May
When I look at you, I see Hazy summer days Skirts of dresses blowing in a soft breeze Flowers budding through your hair Golden skin Fingers stretched out wide When I look at you, I see Cosy fires Pink cheeks Big blankets and jumpers Books and armchairs Decaf coffee and steamed up glasses When I… Continue reading When I Look At You
Author's note - this poem contains material of a sensitive nature. It does in no way reflect the view of The Hysteria Collective, nor seek to cause upset. It is merely a reflection on my past. Thank you, South "The Body of Christ" Held up on high I dare not look too long But I… Continue reading The Body of Christ
