watching
I watch children
I watch babies
I have eyes inside
that blink at little ones
and a womb that hears nothing
but a silly pulse
ticking in solitude,
as they come to me
everything intensifies,
I am warm.
When they go I am a bell
trying not to move
needing the silence.
Ink
I am trying to remember where I left
the darkness,
the quiet, sealing black.
I cannot see it, I can feel it.
It is moist and cool and smooth.
I tighten my fist but
my hand cannot close,
it’s broken and splinted
with black.
Desk top black
from a little ink;
a void in the palm of
my hand.
I am holding my darkness
and it’s holding everything,
except for me
*Fiona Donaghey is a student at City College Norwich doing a BA Hons in English with Cultural Studies. She is originally from Ireland and had lived in Norwich for eleven years. She has been writing poetry for about four years. Read more of her work over at Peony Moon.
