Early Bird
When I was born,
I was transparent: heartbeats
Visible from space and sometimes,
When I dig deep within myself,
I still feel the hollow echoes
Of that fragility.
I have only seen waterfalls
In stories, the space between
Rocks and sunlight, shimmering,
Flickering, blink and I miss it
Because those stories are only words
And I am not a wordsmith.
My face is pitted skin,
Oval eyes and an upturned nose,
Mirror, mirror,
Tell me the truth and I shall
Work it into a tale that only
Cracks when you look sideways.
I feel, perhaps
I am artifice, wistfully
Wishing I knew when my hair turned gold
And I build my castle from half-formed
Verses, whisper-thin metaphors,
My moat made of fiction.
The sea rushes beneath me,
Foam splattering my ankles, maybe
It is white or pink or green, colours
Bleeding into each other
As my tongue tastes the blue breeze.
And really, I do not care
If the sea is mauve, grey,
If my face would burn a thousand ships
Because I am ensnared within reality, unthinkably
Present, the world crashing over me
And I can taste it.
When I was a collection of lungs
And a desperate wish to live,
Perhaps the world moulded itself
To the gaps between my ribs, silently
Promising to hold on.
Ellie Wallwork is a poet and actor based near Brighton. Having written for many years, ‘Early Bird’ is her first published piece. Deeply personal and filled with evocative imagery, her poetry captures her own experiences as a queer, visually impaired woman. Intersectionality, themes of belonging and fierce determination thread themselves throughout her work. She can be found at Instagram.com/somewhatellie, on tiktok.com/somewhatellie and www.elliewallwork.com.
Amanda McLeod writes about nature, culture, and other things that keep her daydreaming or awake in the night. Sometimes she makes art as well. Her work has been published extensively, most recently in the anthology Offerings from Comma Press. Catch her on the socials @AmandaMWrites, at her website amandamcleodwrites.com, or sprawled on the banks of the nearest river.