Some pieces which will be being turned into Postcards by The Horsfall to share across the city of Manchester during a time of isolation, because poetry shouldn’t be reserved for those with access to the internet or lots of books!
I didn’t end up blogging yesterday, but I think that’s ok when it’s because my evening was instead filled with lovely people and pizza and watching one of my favourite films (Pride!!! If you haven’t watched it you must). Today I thought I’d talk a little about ‘Between’, a collection of my poetry published inContinue reading “Between”
When I first visited 42nd Street my expectations were low. After years of being dismissed by mental health professionals and having my feelings and experiences diminished, the idea of recovery wasn’t something that seemed attainable and therapy was something I was going to try without any kind of optimism. After completing a series of therapyContinue reading “Why I’m donating to 42nd Street”
“I feel as if I’m growing back into myself, filling out my body, shaking out my arms and legs and realising I still fit into this skin. And the lights in the bar we always drink at seem hazier as I wander by, wrapped up in a warm breeze from an earth that sometimes seemsContinue reading “September”
It’s not been three months since the first few copies of a little pink book found their way into cardboard packaging, into postal vans, into different houses and different people’s hands. I let them out into the world with the knowledge of the fact that I’d outgrow the content – outgrow the desperate desire toContinue reading “musings about a book i can’t quite regret”
“Burrowing and Burning is a little collection of poems. Or fragments. Or bleedings. Or something along those lines. Written without any immediate intention, scraps of days and feelings and moments that I eventually decided to combine in the hopes of creating something tangible from it all.” When I made this blog I talked about myContinue reading “Burrowing and Burning”
Some words I wrote will be in this exhibition/anthology/spoken word event. Come read/listen.
I was supposed to upload this on your birthday. And it wasn’t that I forgot to think of you or even of this post. But just that little bits of life swept away the hours and I was content and not quite thinking about an app on my phone and a poem to post onContinue reading “It was your birthday.”
“We get off of the train, all red and windows and something comical. And suddenly the city is back inside me, heavy concentrate thickening up my veins, plucking at my chest. And there is a room and a light and a road and suddenly I want to whisper an apology to the girl who usedContinue reading “Old haunts”