mother nature


i grew in your womb for 9 months,

feeding off your energy, sharing your blood, absorbing your power

i gave you back pain and morning sickness

additional stretch marks and fatigue

a cocoon of minerals and vitamins, i nestled inside of you

you birthed me on the twelfth of January

i was a large baby

throughout the years you continued to provide

feeding off your energy, sharing your blood, absorbing your power

i grew taller than you quickly and bigger too

i gave you grief with new tattoos and new piercings and new boys

we shouted and we argued and you shouted and i argued back

then you fell ill

you were ill once before but i was too young to remember

now i was old enough to know that you were seriously sick

and years went by and i thought it would be okay because

you were a cocoon of minerals and vitamins who had birthed 6 more before

it kept on spreading

we would joke that you were bionic

one lung, one kidney, one titanium arm

it kept on spreading

you kept on fighting

i helped you when you couldn’t stand

when you couldn’t drink water

when you could no longer use the toilet

when you needed to roll over on to your side

when you could no longer eat

i was thinking about baking a cake when they told me to come upstairs

my cocoon of vitamins and minerals,

the woman who birthed me

the woman who raised me

now you are mother nature

mother nature

mother nature






First she said my name was weird and then she insinuated that I had worked in a bar for far too long than I probably should have done

I’ve never been so offended,

Okay, well I have.

She said that she too also has anxieties, because the new computer system runs too slow

I said ‘oh’

She asked me what do I think causes mine

I said my parents died.

She said ‘oh, that’ll be it then’



Enjoy your computer lady!



The 1st of February 

I hold you very close to my heart

For this was they day my dear dad would depart

Cancer had eaten his lungs and rewired his brain

And now I would never hear or see him again


The death of a parent is something that really changes you, the death of anyone is traumatic enough but when a mum or a dad dies, it leaves a hole. My dad was unwell for a very long time, both him and my mother. I remember the trips to the hospital thinking, he’s in here to get better, he’ll get better, he’ll get better. With every passing day there was a new complication, an operation they couldn’t do, another seizure, another delay. What could they say? He was dying and they were trying, but his body was tired. Tired of the treatment, tired of the pain, tired of the cancer. He slipped away in the night, I wasn’t there, I’d been on my last day of work experience the day before and I was really tired so I’d gone to my sisters. It was weird because you do imagine these things happening and thinking ‘what would happen if someone told me some really bad news?’ and I still cannot explain the emotions. I was heartbroken/sad/relieved/exhausted and yet somewhat indifferent. How could I feel all these things at one time and yet feel void of all emotion? To watch someone you know go from being capable and strong to fragile and hopeless, only able to only writhe around in pain, it does some things to you. I turned 21 when my dad was ill and this was around the time that his brain tumour started having a big effect on his personality. He didn’t really acknowledge, or rather, he couldn’t acknowledge what was going on or really wish my happy birthday and I remember envying every last person who had an ordinary 21st. I’m scared I’ll forget his voice one day, that time will move on so much that I’ll forget what he looked like too. I miss you my father, I do, I do.