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Sep 2017
I'll still be there in the morning,
Cold hard sweat clinging to my bones,
A smell I'll remember to my earthly grave,
That holds my skin like a dark cloak that you gave me,
When the moon was light that we read each other by.
I'll still be there, even when the bell tolls,
Rolling over in creased sheets that we ironed with our legs,
And the heart is still there, not sure where I expected it to go -
To be let in as the sun rises, I'll still be surprised to feel your heat.

Everything will be just fine
Mother said.
Mother said, "you're worth more than ironing sheets and giving freedom to caged birds"
How far would you go to wake up?
Do you still feel him on your skin,
Do your bones still ache slightly, for that touch.
Mother said "graves don't dig themselves, stop carrying that pickaxe"
Mother said.
But where else will you find diamonds except in the deepest mines?
And I'll always carry the cold sweat of coal in the morning,
My handprints will touch everywhere, and all you feel is silk,
All I will see is embers, from my burnt hands

And you'll let me touch the sun a thousand times before i get to touch you.
Mother said "stop thinking, stop crying, stop doing. Stop trying so hard"
Mother said "no-one will like you as you are, be better, be harder, be tougher, every single time"
Mother said.

So as you lay there in your sheets, wondering who I am, remember these things,
I am ash, I am bone, I am heat, and I am fear. I am a million things that have been extinguished before you met me,
And if you don't like charcoal,
I for sure can't forge you a diamond.
Rachael Stainthorpe
Written by
Rachael Stainthorpe  Huddersfield
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