careful

my words are beautifully woven 
A siren song to the unprepared listener 
A calling to those to weave words intricately but carefully 
as the same beauty that can cause sheer pleasure 
Is the same menace that creates hell and ruin 
revolution or mayhem 

words can slowly sink it’s teeth 
into your neck 
or your back 
or your heart 
leaving you lifeless 
failing to understand 
how words could ever 
hurt so much. 

my words are beautifully woven 
a lullaby that can cause death 
a summoning to those who use ugly words 
to describe beautiful things
a warning to remember that words 
you utter, 
do not come 
without consequence

Copyright © Courtni Blackwood-Swaby 2020

Cinderella

it’s crazy right?

how I want to

monopolise you

in anyway I can

take you

in any form you present

when you’re kind and loving

when your’re detached and dishonest

it madness right?

how I feel like

my face

is smushed against a glass window

watching you love

others

desparately

trying to understand

the breath of my love

and the extent of yours

it’s foolish right?

how I suffocated

in despair and longing

for a love like Cinderella’s

hating myself

for questioning

why I could never fit the glass slipper

staring

at the people outside

confused to why

i never deserved a love

straight out of a fairytale

confused to why

i’ll never experience a love

exactly like that

Copyright © Courtni Blackwood-Swaby 2020

the philosophy of survival I

In a flight of pain

And survival

I entered the world

Voice screeching

Hand reaching

It was the first time I gasped for breath

the very first time

I was handed

a toolbox

for me alone

 

It was glorious

Intricate

Delicate

Otherworldly

Overflowing with heavenly gold

Even Midas would be jealous

 

like a flower

I blossomed

holding on tightly

to my toolbox

which was a light as a feather

filled with the my mother’s blessings

 

He said he would be here today

I sat patiently

As solid as a statue

all day

gripping my toolbox

as weightless as water

Filled with my grandmothers love

Believing

That I had all the tools

To deal with this burning in my chest

And the disappointment engulfing my heart

 

This time I added a tool

to the box

That was handmade so perfectly

Just for me,

To ensure

That broken promises

will never feel like a kick to the head

A huge fuck you

A betrayal to my love.

 

 

Copyright © Courtni Blackwood-Swaby 2020

the philosophy of survival II

I picked up my tool box

It was a little heavier

But it’s my burden to bare

every time a door closed

every time they sneered that I couldn’t do it

Every time he lied to me

Every time they isolated me

every time I felt locked up

Choking

Failing to comprehend

The extent of how life truly is

Realising

that my tool box

Filled with my mothers joy

And my grandmothers everlasting love

was useless

I was unqualified

no where near ready

to survive

The life

I never

Asked for.

Copyright © Courtni Blackwood-Swaby 2020

thought of your name

I didn’t understand loss

hoping what was lost

could always be found

maybe at the bottom of a bottle

or at the first spark

 

the first stage is denial is

praying

searching

hallucinating

then shouting

screaming at you to come back

to resurrect

 

They urged me it was your time to go

but they lied they lied they lied

how is there ever a time

where you were ready to leave me?

 

why create memories I can never erase

but allow my memories to slowly erase your face

your patient eyes

your loving smile

your warm embrace

I wonder if I’m deranged

because to this day

my eyes leak

just at the thought of your name.

 

 

 

Copyright © Courtni Blackwood-Swaby 2020