I wrote this at 19 on an Arvon course. After being sexually assaulted the first time I found it especially helpful to reflect on my childhood and connect back to my experiences then:
My school blazer held tools to paint
a mask in place: lip gloss and powder
to match the self imposed uniform
They fell into the space where
my hymn book should have been.
Bound in yellow card with the
So the book was left at home and, slowly,
I allowed the creatures of my ambition
to nestle there. All fast asleep,
dreaming of a day
When I might choose the words
I speak and sing. Miniature dragons
breathing futuristic fire of the trail
blazer I would be.
All left close to my heart; while
the pockets I thrust my hands into
contained the meagre beginnings
of this plan.
Notes, grades, speeches, briefing papers,
clips of quotes tumbled together
with the slips of paper slid between
friends in class.
My breathing army to fuel
the fiery dragons. Hand up to
heart. Gently waking them
to the world.