Time forced frozen,
no rest even in death.
curl against pale skin.
Her cheeks pinched raw,
faux emotion on dead lips.
Verdant moss does wonders
to distract from the grim truth
but it cannot hide
the dirt and grime and muck
they did not care to wipe away.
Eyes gaze left
stuck in permanent daydream
how a good woman should be,
her mind someplace other,
her body someone else’s.
Death looks good on her, they say.
Silence looks good on her, they think.
Backs turning, they leave her.
Not caring about the dew soaking her clothes,
or wondering if it’ll leave her cold.
Author: Mikaila Warren is a third-year writing student, who never thought she’d see the day she would write a poem that she didn’t hate, let alone the day she would try to publish one, yet here she is.
Artist: SaBelle Pobjoy-Sherriff is a third year fine arts visual arts student. Her art practice uses narrative and mythology to create obscure illustrations and sculptures. Using acrylic paint and coloured pencils she creates vibrant worlds and creatures. Her current work focuses on the current climate crisis and the idea of corrupting escapism. You can find more on her instagram @SaBelleeee.
Editors: David Farr and Grace Harvey