#32 healing poetry; complicated father’s day

I see The shadow of youBehind his formA dayThat should Be celebrated forThe Dad’s that choseTo stay.You were my sunAnd you fell belowThe horizonMy eyesTracked you as youLeft coloured streaksIn the sky – Except, you are not a sunYou are a man.And you chose each stepYou walkedAway from meCrying at the door.And now, I can’tContinue reading “#32 healing poetry; complicated father’s day”

That Dance

So I closed my eyes And I cut my hair Wondering if anyone else was there That you could see With eyes so wide It almost defied Belief – It’s not the seeing that’s lost But your presence was the cost Of a self-entitled, self-appointed ignorance To loss I was the cost, and you madeContinue reading “That Dance”

Not Proud to Hate

I hated herAnd I’m not proud of itAt first I was entranced by herDark curls and bright eyesHow she covered up bright red cheeksWith a rimmel concealer at the tableShe was glamourAnd I loved illusion, then.I hated herAnd I’m not proud of itBut keeping this inside Is making this lieBigger. You knew, and Locked meContinue reading “Not Proud to Hate”

Fish & Chips & God

*Trigger warning, this story has content that may be unsuitable for those under 18. *A short-story that I never did get to submit to a Bloomsbury competition. This piece, like everything on LughLana, is protected under Copyright law. The plasticine ward smelled like oldness and sickness. It inspired that peculiar sense of contempt that oneContinue reading “Fish & Chips & God”

Body Shock

Electric chords hum lullabies to me in my sleepI deprive myself of rest it seemsI hardly speak about the demons that visit meThey’ve called it ‘sleep paralysis’An oddly neutral name for a wildly terrifying experienceWhen you’re 7 years old, and frozen withDemons parading your sheetsIt’s no wonder, the darkness called to me.D2 gene. It’s theContinue reading “Body Shock”

Soft-pillows and Dream-tides

I feel the tide dragging me under. I’m asleep, the pillows soft, As the dream-water efficiently, Captures the movement of my breath, Trapping it, Like fisherman catch fish, They don’t intend to throw back, Into the sea. An old ache starts in my wrists, But it’s a familiar, friendly pain, It’s telling me my bodyContinue reading “Soft-pillows and Dream-tides”

At most, it felt cold.

When you held me it felt cold. At most, it felt cold. I wasn’t sure why you were there, Appearing in the space, Where my mother should have been. I thought if I gleaned a promise from my father, That I would remain first in his eyes, It wouldn’t matter that your presence, Signalled somethingContinue reading “At most, it felt cold.”