Friday, 13 April 2018

Subjects of Denial














My hair is clean and brushed and smart.
Hers is drenched and dirty.
I am wearing cosy clothes.
She is bare and purple.
I'm inhaling bluebell air.
She is breathing fire.
I am watching pixellated subjects of denial.

I am strong and tall, unbowed.
She is weak and wailing.
I am fifty years of age.
She is but a baby.
I have biscuits on my lips.
She has froth and horror.
I am watching pixellated subjects of atrocity.

I have eyes that blur and leak
but I am speaking freely.
She has eyes that cannot see.
She is wheezing frantically.
I am hearing grown men lie.
She is hearing people die.
I am watching pixellated subjects of denial.

© Laura Taylor


Laura Taylor has been obsessed with words and language since her early childhood. She believes in the power of poetry as a means by which silent voices speak and hidden ears listen.