Kristiana Reed brings an anxious vision to Blood Into Ink
Those who wait
watch the vole
with heavy shopping
stumbling hands.
I can’t fight my mind.
I can’t find my card
to pay for the colours
and textures stuffed in a bag.
The hawks behind
step forward
heavy claws which pierce
the supermarket polished ground.
I came alone,
to shop alone,
to pack alone and leave
alone.
My hands are now full
with all of these eyes
and false words
falling from my tongue.
I’m finally done.
I finally leave
for the bag to split.
For me to suffocate,
fold up like water
as eyes, hands
and lies come
to my aid
because I’m crying
over spilt milk
and choking
on a thank you.
I found old CBT diagrams I drew to cope with anxiety attacks.
I decided to turn them into poetry instead of painful memories.
_____________________________
Kristiana Reed juggles writing and teaching English; in both vocations she endeavours…
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