Cold Turkey

You thought I tasted good

With no shadow of doubt

So you chewed me all up

And then spat me back out.

Left me there on the counter

‘Til peppered with mould

Deciding that turkey

Was a dish best served cold.


Emma H, age 26, 21/03/2017



Your Silence was a hurtful sound,

My head filled with white noise,

An endless static rebound

Drowning out life’s joys.


The only break from Silence

Was the screaming in my heart,

And the tears that smeared mascara

Like a ghastly work of art.

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