In the lead up to the winners reveal for our 2023 writing contest, Tertangala is showing some of the work submitted by UOW talent. Our first is a poem from Paige Jenkins. Enjoy!
I tiptoe down the green sea od
fading blues to yellow as
the darkness gives way to
the eerie discolouration
on an aging arm
making rings around the
make-belief garden in your
palm I fall into the
funnelled web
of your clenched fist
as you squeeze and squeeze
a stressball my eyes
pop and pop and pop
with every day
I did not stop to smellthe daises
and I never wanted to wake up
to the roses
but I bathe in my crimson
with the IV of thorns
Regardless of the salt washing in
mixing and folding me un two three four
million pieces
Pieces of mirror fragments held up to your
eyes and you did notlike what you saw.
You did not see me and my pain.
You saw yourself.
You only saw the stains
I made on your skin.
The mess simply would not do.
What would the neighbours think?
As if they mattered more than the
broken porcelain ragdoll whose hand you held
as you tiptoed down the stairs
to listen to conversations not meant for your
ears.
I hate that I do the same.
I hate that I pick up your pieces,
patching them with stitches I pulled from my own
surface, sewing lenses to my eyes and
melting ice to my heart
so I won’t see my wounds bleed
and I won’t feel the betrayal you placed on my neck
A gold medallist you said.
I’m so proud of my good little girl.
My easy child.
Well done.
You’re perfect.
Just.
Perfect.