I won’t say anything.

So what are you going to say at my funeral, now that you’ve killed me?‘ – Warsan Shire
As you stand at the front,
leading the mourning,
do you feel guilt climb up the stairs?
When you start your speech
take in their faces;
my family, your jury.

Now sweetie,
when you say sorry,
can you taste me on your tongue?
Do you swallow me down,
bitter, only to
wake with me in your ear?


You thought this was my funeral?
It is your hearing.
My body, the witness,
to crimes you hid inside me
Have you made your mother
proud yet?

I hope you have learned,
regret is a debt collector,
you are over due.
It will come into your house,
sit at your table,
feast on you.

Look it in the eyes,
face up to it.
‘You may have beaten him’
it’ll say.
‘I can promise you
I won’t be so easy’

-Alex W. (Final first draft for NaPoWriMo 30/30)

Taking Root.

Claw your way up my spine,
suck life from my sternum,
teach me to kneel down.
Humility re-found,
last night I swallowed you
whole. Gave into pressures,
can I love you again?

There is no question when
it comes to you, I beg,
take me, sir, willingly.
I have never known you
as well as I wanted.
You are my achilles,
I want to be your Zeus.
Teach me how to break you,
bend you over, triumph.

-Alex W. (First draft for NaPoWriMo 29/30)

A year without harvest

When I first met your parents,

your mother told me

‘he works like a farmer that boy,

he will treat you right,

breathe life into you

when you want to lie there,

wilting on the sidewalk’.

 

I saw the love in her eyes,

took on that challenge,

I will love him more.

I should not be so reckless,

I learned that in coming months.

The way we danced

was not how we are meant to,

fast and sharp,

you threw me around.

It felt like I was flying

and then,

it didn’t.

 

I saw your mother in the street,

she looked nervous,

scared of facing what had been loosed

upon my world.

I took her aside,

I told your mother;

‘your son is like a farmer,

he will treat you like a crop,

work you and work you,

flood you with his thoughts.

He will have you

dry-heaving on the floor,

desperate to give just to please him.

Your son is like a farmer’

I said,

‘he will leave you fallow

and then move on’

-Alex W. (First Draft for NaPoWriMo 28/30)

Snatched.

I have silenced myself,
bound my words:
medicated thinking.
Twisting my thoughts, ringing
out all my intentions.
They spill into the sink,
gushing with madness I’m
glad to lose.

I borrow mum’s make-up,
doll myself up, painted.
If you look too closely
you’ll spot cracks,
a glitch in the matrix.
Put in contact lenses,
(masking red)
paint smiles
even your lover would
believe. Fooled by the work
you have done.
Desperate to cover,
hide in fear.

Pass me my crown, darling,
didn’t you realise
I’m a queen?

-Alex W. (First draft for NaPoWriMo 27/30)

THANK YOU!

I just want to say a massive HELLO to all the new followers this month! I hope you are enjoying my work, especially these first drafts!

As it’s coming to the end of NaPoWriMo I wanted to say thank you to everyone for your support of my work, I have exciting things planned for May so watch this space!

I hope you are all having lovely days! – Alex W.