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Bent Double Day 1. Day 2. Day 3. Day 4. Day 5. Day 6. Day 7. <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Becky Cullen<\/strong>‘s poems have recently been published in Be:<\/em> and Assent<\/em> magazines. She studied English and Drama in Sheffield, and has since produced some convincing performances as a teacher, waitress, au pair, florist and HR manager. Becky lives in Nottingham and is completing a Creative Writing MA.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Bent Double Day 1. A summer of the same relentless heat starts up, with no respite. \u00a0What does take the edge off mean? \u00a0There is an ounce of fog. Day 2. My legs are odd. There is no taste to food. The ball that was unravelling starts to rewind until its taut […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3664","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3664","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3664"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3664\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3665,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3664\/revisions\/3665"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3664"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3664"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3664"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n
\nA summer of the same relentless heat starts up, with no respite. \u00a0What does take the edge off<\/em> mean? \u00a0There is an ounce of fog.<\/p>\n
\nMy legs are odd. There is no taste to food. The ball that was unravelling starts to rewind until its taut cords thread me through, and my jaw
\nis on display in a museum case, remarkably white.<\/p>\n
\nI can\u2019t remember yesterday. I walk all the way home before I realise I meant to catch the bus. I prop my head up with one hand.<\/p>\n
\nI notice lots of things that aren\u2019t foil on a filled tooth. \u00a0A small fishing fleet glistens in a cove. \u00a0My glass orb fills with fireflies.<\/p>\n
\nNo more images, no claps of colour, no spikes. I lie, tollund, with a round hole in my skull, not sure if my brain is seeping out or seeping in.<\/p>\n
\nThe day is nagging to be filled. A hum and buzz, the slap of skipping, low drum thunder.<\/p>\n
\nI\u2019m losing interest in diaries.<\/p>\n