push the colour in, do not

let it spill

nettles scratch the flesh within mouths

chew softly gums trickle burgundy

alight from here

to reach your destination scream as though it matters.

ㅤ

(martyrs all have one thing in common)

ㅤ

time is not on your side – although the same could be 

said –

clock face abandoned slugs sit on your oesophagus

trinkets howl, i am no longer a kid, no more a wooden 

rocking chair

with your name// metaphorically engraved.

ㅤ

(i hate it here)

ㅤ

you are just more than hope – do you see me as you – 

the void is deeply owl-like

twisting tender pulling at our skin i breed my blanket to 

be cold

ㅤ

(A fire begins// it does not matter

who started it)

ㅤ

no longer corporeal, no longer transparent, the fog blue 

and moody dart back over here

hereditary is such a comforting word//

we are one and the same, unravelled, and filled with 

colours.

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Charlotte is a young, neurodivergent writer from England, who enjoys writing horror short stories, dystopian fiction and poetry, exploring the themes of disability, feminism, chronic illness and the horrors and joys of everyday life. She is featured in Issue 2 of Rind and Root Magazine and won the Terry Kelly Poetry Prize in 2023 for her age category.

Find Charlotte on Social media @cgdougalwriter on Instagram and Substack.

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Picture Credits: Musa Ali Chaudhry