It rained last night,
A vivid flow of sorrow.
A memory caught in my throat,
The strangulation of tomorrow.
The bars of my ribcage shake with screams.
If these bones shatter will I be set free?
I meditate to medicate.
When man rejects, I wave at the sea.
In this nothingness I am hidden,
Yet I finally feel seen.

I write so I don’t go blind,
I fill my page with light –
Words from the lips of someone wiser.
Ink runs through my veins.
Metaphors bleed onto the page.
These words are for me,
Because I want to see.

I burn my composure,
Unveiling my vulnerability.

Just as my pen runs out of ink.

Aoife Cunningham

Aoife writes:

I’m 19 from Galway. I began writing poetry when I was 7. My poetry is a reflection of my circumstance. I jumped off a bridge in 2018, resulting in 7 broken bones (thankfully all healed) and I’m currently in hospital being treated for Anorexia Nervosa. I spent 8 months living in a Homeless shelter prior to my admission to hospital. My aim is to help people through the power of my words.

Aoife Cunningham

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13 thoughts on “Running Out

    1. Bertie blenkinsop

      Well, I guess this settles the “Kevin Higgins wouldn’t know a good poem if he saw one” debate.

      1. Slightly Bemused

        Ouch! Bertie, I am just glad Kevin never commented on my effort of a few weeks ago. With luck he was out that day and did not see it :-)

        Aoife, this was beautiful! If you do not mind my saying, not just in the words and sentiment, but the flow is just visually mesmerising!

        Your words have incredible power.

  1. Kieran

    Hugely impressive, Aoife. I look forward to reading your first published volume when it comes along.

  2. Daisy Chainsaw

    Lovely writing Aoife. I hope your poetry helps others as it is helping you and just remember, if your pen runs out of ink, there’s always a pencil to keep you going.

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