Dear father, the first person to break my heart, First and foremost, I'd like to thank you. The pain that you inflicted upon me earlier in life led me to grow into a strong woman. The first time I fell in love, I was already fluent in heartbreak. The way sobs rolled from my tongue … Continue reading An open letter to my father, the first person to break my heart
Place your finger randomly on the page in front of you. Your finger will have landed on a word or words. Write the word down, as well as the 3 words preceding it. You now have a 7-word phrase. Write this down & once you have written it, keep writing for 5 mins. You must … Continue reading Writing Game
How is it fair that you got to touch me before I could ever feel like I could touch myself?
fantastical and magical and all-around wonderful and marvellous, fantabulous, and tremendous (I really can’t articulate my love for you, my dear)
He is my poet, and I want to be his poetry.
The best of every nan's living room, right on Deptford's doorstep. We've all been there - warm hues of scattered browns and golds, shabby trinkets, Bone China dinner sets, and worn - but equally as comfortable settees. I'm sure I speak for many of us when I say that the welcoming atmosphere of our grandparent's house is … Continue reading Little Nan’s Bar, Deptford
take three deep breaths for every one small step you make in this cluster fuck we call life. everything will be alright.
“Stop everything! It’s snowing”, squeaked the birch to the vast, naked oak as icy flakes fluttered slowly – down, down, down, to the lightly dusted ground. Snow had been long overdue. Tiny tips of green had already begun to sprout from the very ends of the birch’s branches as winter drew to a pass. The oak gently shuddered and … Continue reading Dear Birch
uneasinesswraps around every musclepulls and squeezes at each tendonembraces each boneand breaks through flesh,too tattered to be porcelain
At a meagre four years old, my mum decided that I was some kind of writing prodigy for no other reason than knowing how to spell the word "decide". I had written a short story about a duck that decided to dress up as a swan. She even showed off to my grandma, … Continue reading An introduction