Annie Stevenson
I’ll sail across the sky till I can find it
What little time that I have left
I’ll put it in a box so you don’t mind it
When I am gone, but not dead
The seas are getting lonely and the clouds are too high
I’ll cross these rough waters for you
I’ll eat all your tears so darling don’t you cry
The stars are getting hungry for you
A bitter-sweet breeze fills these sails
Tapestries fly –
Woven by those calloused hands
This body, a mere hand-me-down
Black and Blue –
Are the only colours through which I understand you
To cut, slash and tear and weep unseen
To stitch the pain into your hands
With fingers red or new with gold
Will stain your lap and turn to black
I try to grow my hair – but pains bring back blunt shears
Reflections seem to look like you
And I fear – I fear that I have lost my strength
As Delilahs grow on these brittle bones
I’ll take your demons by the hand in silence
And give them a home inside my head
From honeyed lips come promises of kindness
So hollow are those slurs of drawn regret
Cover me in shrouds of silk – smother me tight
Too rich for rough skin to bear
Carve broken words into my heart – desperate delight
And I’ll bleed you drinks of plenty, my dear
Oh, guard your dimming light with naked hands –
As melting wax drips to ash
Claw notches on my skin
I’ll find solace in these scars –
As all nine lives return to dust
Tread lightly, lightly – don’t make a sound
Not a breath – it’ll all be over soon
Swallow me whole and keep me there
Restless inside your womb –
There are flowers in my mind
Asking me why –
Why I’ve been away so long
Oh, rest your weary blooms – ‘cause I won’t be coming home soon
Annie’s visual arts practice is currently focused on stylised portraiture, personifying intense emotional concepts within androgynous and femme forms. They explore a range of concepts, particularly drawing focus on themes of psychology, mental illness, trauma, family, gender, feminism, mythology and religion.