All posts by “piptrentham

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Holidaying with a boozer

Naked, I sit on the beach unnoticed, As his eyes dart past the present. Alone, I walk to rockpools. He grunts; ‘I didn’t come here to be active.’ Unhurried, I lose track of time. He clock-watches, apprehensive for gin hour. Curious, I book a trip.… Read More

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Death by marriage

Marble Maiden, You’re cold as a grave, Emotions all but dead. Spirit locked in a crypt, decomposing, Pulse hanging on by a thread. The world you wed May be elegant, But, hell, it’s stolen your soul. You’re barely a stencil of what you were, Forty… Read More

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Drowning moth

I used to adore that feeling of exhaustion, it made me feel like an athletic goddess. Golden adrenaline and a bloody great smile unquestionably accompanied that well earned evening on the sofa with an enormous plate of food and wind-kissed skin. Then I hit 38,… Read More

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No. No. Absolutely not.

The Yes Game may be the thing to do but, quite frankly, it’s exhausting. And, much of the time, it goes against what feels right. Last year taught me a huge amount, as I transitioned from working as a freelancer, living in a quiet Cornish town,… Read More

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She’s a bunch of freshly picked cornflowers, Thrown into a thick-cut glass jug, As beautifully wild as the students In that skinny blue house on Wellington St. And when the petals fall, she’s the resilient stalk, Holding on in a sterile maternity ward, Stubborn, industrious,… Read More