You left me hanging by a thread
And instead of waiting for you to save me
It’s a word we use a lot during our nights
Gentle fingers in slow circles on soft skin
Across the dips in your ribs and the nape of
When your soft curls twist around my fingers
With eyes creased like pillowcases
Where your wrists press them
Ribbons and lace and bruises across your bed
Across your shoulders
Blushed red on soft skin
Cotton bud kisses
Caress these tender blooms
Sunrise dye your skin pink. Red.
The lines of nails under your shirt
Ruby ribbons trace tapestries of veins
Wrapped in velvet underground.
And my fingers caress my bruises later, when I
Become harder, when I unwrap myself from
This cocoon of petals.
It’s a painful reminder of your soft touches
In the middle of tomorrow night.
When I need your softness.
WHEN YOU FIGURE OUT HOW TO LEAVE ME
When you figure out how to leave me
Tell me how
And take me with you.
Leave her behind
The version of me you didn’t want.
Show me how to shed my skin.
Should I slough it off with stones
Remove the scars to start new.
Make me pink and fresh. Absolve me
Raw and clean, your canvas.
Change my voice.
Pull the cords in to a more pleasing melody
Sweet symphonies of ‘baby be mine’
Singing darling blossoms
Growing on the taught notes left strung with
Your opinions and praises.
Edit my body beautiful.
Pull breath from my ribs to make slimmer me waist.
Bend my neck to hold my spine
Arch it to your wills, mimic my follies.
Widen my eyes in to innocent and sew shut my ears to your faults.
Words by Amelia McNab
Illustrations by Bronwen Neil