We don’t take the boys on these trips
Us girls
We’re hard as the rocks around us
Tough as the pick axe
That breaks the ice
We’re not doing it to prove a point
We want this
To be here
Doing this
Seeing this
Ice caves and glaciers
There’s no room
For the fragility
Of masculinity
When they think we’re too cold
Or the days been too tough
We don’t need them to insist
We go home
Sit by the fire
We’re as determined as those glaciers
Carving our own path into this landscape
Tag: writer
Measurements – R.W.
I can measure the state of my mental health
By the lines left in ny skin
Some scarlet and bumpy
Some pale and thin
I can measure my relationship with food
By the gap between the waistband
Of my jeans And the hips poking through
Like the knuckles in my hand
Alexa – R.W.
I’ve never seen a person threaten an Alexa before
Holding knife to it
Threatening it to continue
With the twinkle of Christmas music
In the first week of September
Starting to feel like autumn
Cookimg roast dinner in our sweats
Starting to feel like family
Drinking wine from mugs, as we catch up in one of our flats
Starting to feel like we belong
We’ve found our groove, the centre of our walkable lives
In this here there is love
Hospital 2 – R.W.
I want to start unpacking my trip
The baggage I bought home
From my unexpected hospital stay
I wasn’t trying to get admitted
Just a quick trip to the out of hours doctors
Who passed me on
Unexpected unprepared and with no belongings
I’m home now and I don’t know where to start
Processing how this changed me
The time spent wrapped up in myself
While forcibly in the company of other people
Comradory growing between the unlikeliest of pals
Cultivated by circumstance
All out on the table
In our worst states
No one gives a shit what you look like
On your Unexpected hospital stay
Purple – R.W.
White paneled walls
Of the under pass traffic
Filtered into one lane
For no clear reason
Everything reflecting red
Closed lane, brakes pulled
Everything in red
Bouncing off the plastic touch tunnel
Until the tone turns purple
Then blue
The ambulance comes into view
And the accident is apparent
The House Where The Devil Lives – R.W.
Our eyes make contact
As you glance through the holes in the fence
I see the look in your eye
Before you see me
Who would leave a house like this
To over run like that
Then you catch me
Stood watching
The birds and the bees
As they enjoy the meadow grass garden
I know from the way you look away
You’ve heard it all
Know who lives here
In this house
With the garden returned to the wild
Because I haven’t been seen
Not really witnessed
In these parts
For some years now
Just a rumour
I stopped being scary
Some time ago
As memory fades
The house where the devil lived
Is now a run down cottage
By the water
Fading into fairytale
Over taken by time
Siblings in Refuge – R.W.
I can’t tell you you’re not welcome
Because honestly that’s not quite true
I can’t tell you not to come here
Because at the end of the day it’s your home too
We’ve come for different reasons
Seeking refuge at different times in our lives
You always a few years my junior
Are still young
Wild
And free
I’m here to find time out
Space where I cannot be found
Disturbed only by the wind in the trees
Waves on the river
And birds welcoming the new day
Now that’s mirrored with
The slamming of doors
The raising of voices
As you’ve re entered
This house we’ve always known
At the start of a new day
Carrying with you the drink from the night before
Not my quiet respite
Not my retreat
We’ve both run home
Searching for different places
Losing Control – R.W.
I’m to not go too hard on myself
Take it easy
There’s so much going on
So much out of my control
Landed with things I didn’t ask for
That I want to much to say no to
Just not yet
Not right now
Take it easy
One thing at a time
Not taking it too far
To have everything all at once
No turning back – R.W.
Sometimes when I’m driving
Aiming for straight home on the fast road
I loose sight of the telecoms tower
That signals my time to leave
Panic I’ll be stuck
Forced to see out this journey
All the way to the motorway
No turning back
My Dad’s Diagnosis – R.W.
Side note , this is why I stopped writing for a few months. The few things I did write may never see the light of day
My dad’s got cancer
I feel like I should be writing about it
Processing
Using the words to sooth the pain
But all I can do is cry
Everyone deals with cancer differently
My only friend who’s had a parent go through the same thing
Reassures me
As my mum says she wants us to keep going as normal
Everyone else is asking questions
So many questions
What stage? How do they know?
Is it treatable?
I don’t have any of these answers
And if i did
I don’t know if I’d share
So many questions
Everytime my phone buzzes
Someone else asking something else
I don’t know
All I want to do is
Cry
The end result is switching my phone off
I’ve told you
Now leave me alone
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