Laura Milner

You picked up my heart carelessly
and, with a needle and thread
your shaking hands
decided which path you'd take
...

I am astounded
At the constant ache to preen
Failing to carve and hack at a giant cherub
reminiscent of a spoiled version of Rubens’ work.
...

I wondered if rocks would shift,
letting the dam go free
The water icy;
a chill I could feel right down to my brittle bones
...

amidst the anxiety and the flames
there are but two whispered names
...

train tracks rumbling
fingers fumbling to find
the shard of distinct light that shifts
as the sun begins to rise
...

slumber claws at the eyes
promising a brighter day regardless of clouds
still, thunder will strike
after the calm, unperturbed night
...

Clumps of cells clutching to security
Riding on the back of my strength and love.
You all poked fun at my curved spine
bent so much due to your spinelessness.
...

Two weeks today I acquired these scabbed knees.
I have treated them tenderly; with kindness and care.
Each morning the cuts become exposed again and bleed profusely,
sticking to and soaking the material used to cover my
...

Whilst you brand your territorial markings
on non-suspecting humans
and your new-found mask, covered in dirt
is slowly starting to wear away once more
...

Exhuming the past from an unburdened soil
Disturbing a surface that's been hardened by toil
Scuttle flies grow curious,
turn away from their bones
...

Well, I bet you never thought
that the clumsy thoughtless oaf
could have feelings
deeper than those of ancient settled sea beds!
...

like large shards of glass
ripping my throat to shreds
causing a distinct nausea that can only be cured
by acknowledging what I already know
...

I'd seen my Father's tears before
a story of loss, tension and loss of control
one for sorrow, illustrating a weeping household
you lit up a section of this whole we call life
...

I could try and try
but I would never succeed
In giving you what it is that you need
...

I can't help but ache
the anxiety lingers, systems resume
a tired mind with a lack of substance
future? a lingering doom
...

i am your guilt
i am the terror you feel
you are my guilt
...

Harshly swallow feelings
Rip my tongue to shreds
Bile rises in my throat
As I remember what you said
...

A fondness for elephants
You ask me to forget.
I wait for it to happen,
but it has not. Not yet.
...

If mortar and brick were to inhale and perspire
reflect, spit out words, cause conflict, desire,
sentiment would be the most discussed topic.
...

For years this house has held sentiment in its palm,
Whether we've been panicked, cosy or calm.
It's gardens hold memories, bones buried deep in soil
Rotten apples falling, the grass a deep royal
...