Hannah Hebditch Poems

I cradled your lifeless figure in my arms
Smeared blood across my fingers as I
Stroked your porcelain skin and
Dark hair back over your glassy eyes
...

Tough times never hurt like these
When all went down I still had my dreams
But they’re stating to drift away
I’m beginning to lose my place
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What if I told you
I’ve got a bruised heart
And my tears always fill in the dents
Would you try to drain out the hurt?
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I never understood why you held so many secrets in your closed hands and only fluttered them open when our backs were turned to the walls. Walls can’t reflect the fragile heart we don’t see.

I never understood why you hurt so much, blood on the floor, vomit covering your brittle fingertips and the sweaty handprints trailing up through your bed to the ceiling attempting to rip holes from the paper box you’ve been placed in. When will you realise that your bones are already coated in the acid falling from your eyes? Let go. When will you go to sleep?
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Ballet shoes strike the wooden floor, slipping in and out like a mop swiping away boredom
Dancers pirouette around continuously as they watch their perfect world spin in the most interesting ways
They step on and off point clattering the deadness of the still floorboards
It’s my dream, my future…
...

Smudging dirt over what hurts most
Disguising it as stale memory
Aged brown, instead of fresh red
Keeping your eyes closed
...

Woken up- I’m dreaming now
A fire bird swoops over my shoulder leaving a
Flame bleeding cracked lines down my silk dress as I crush
Its heated intensity beneath my black and white blanket,
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I always used to wonder
Why someone turns out the lights
And all of a sudden, fast beating
Erupts from inside, like a drum under your heart
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Flowers searching with seedless eyes
Reaching for their destiny’s up above clouds of pale mystery
Trying to read the suns burning lines
But getting scorched on fingers of hope
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Please, will you take a minute to look me in the eyes?
See this salty flood rushing down my cheeks
Salt heals- but it didn’t this time- it stung
The wounds resting under my skin
...