Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
Survive; Survivor; Survived. What does it mean? Is it what they survived? Or what we survived? What I survived? That’s definable – the ‘what’; Danger, violence, terror. The suffocating distress of it. But what does surviving look like? Is it still being alive? Is it still carrying on? Is it Read more
The shape of heavy tears streaking down, earthwards, journeying to find our loved ones faces, again The shape of trembling lips the very moment we recall their forevermore absence as we write the date, on this day their birthday The shape of the book on the shelf in the store, Read more
“You look tired.” Yeah. “Late night?” No….no, it’s not that. I’m tired of trying change; of trying to heal from the trauma; of trying to discover a plateau of self-acceptance; of trying to be an adequate person, and better wife; of trying to worry less about being a good mother. Read more
Imploringly staring up at you desperate to reach your eyes, your heart. You direct your glance away, avoiding her pleading gaze. alone, fretful Trying to keep abreast of your footsteps, she’s running, almost tripping now. You merely quicken your stride, leaving her unable to level Read more
It’s easy money. Walk slowly, hands behind your back, checking no one is cheating. Up and down the rows of desks, quietly handing out tissues, pens. For a teacher of 5 year olds, exam invigilation with 16 year olds is a breeze. Some children look anxious, one girl is biting Read more
It’s back, that distantly familiar swell under my ribs, a bitter sensation, like crying which is desperate to escape. Is it my trapped tears, all alone inside my chest? Or the hollow itself that they inhabit, which hurts? The aching makes me inhale, throbbing intensifies. Perhaps because my sorrow is Read more
Richard isn’t at school today. He wasn’t there yesterday, either. When I get home, my mother seems sad. She crouches, looking into my eyes with hers. “Richard’s Mummy is – “ My mother has tears now. I don’t ask her why, I wait. I feel uncomfortable. “Richard hasn’t got a Read more
Nestling together, blame and judgement let’s talk about that. Were you there? Were you wearing her clothes? You know, the ones she asked him not to pull off? Did you feel her heart accelerating? While her soul wept in fear of what was to come? Were you witness to all Read more