The Journal

Poems about rage, motherhood, politics, grief, awakening and the refusal to be quiet. New work posted as it happens. Read, share, feel something.

Poetry With Shaking Hands Poetry With Shaking Hands

I Was You

Everyone says you look just like me.
Let me tell you what that means.
They were choosing your colour
before you had even arrived.
Here is your doll.
Here is your kitchen.
You will learn to be good…

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Poetry With Shaking Hands Poetry With Shaking Hands

She Wiped The Glitter Off

She’d just come off stage.
A matinee performance.
Still had her makeup on-
bright eyeshadow, thick lashes,
tiny diamantés stuck to her cheekbones.
She was proud…

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