My Full Statement

A poem written in my 20s... + a little backstory

On that day, in that year,
At an approximate time—
In hushed light,
I was stolen by a man
With full-grown wings
Made of black lace lies
And tiny clandestine rubies.
I can barely write of his figure, posture, composure,
Or any of the colours which make a man.
I saw, in only an instant, the glint of a hand
Veiled with his own vintage fears.
But to the best of my memory,
To ease this enquiry, I can state clearly:
That this man had been adversely tall and conversely mute.
And in manner was crude and brute.
Now here I state my final conviction,
To clear the jail before I’m forgotten,
His redemption along with my
Very own confession:
The night I was stolen by a man
With broken wings
Was the same night I forged my final tears.

+ a little backstory:

During my Creative Writing degree, we were tasked with writing something that made a statement of some kind, and the above was the result.

We were often asked to read our work aloud to the rest of the class—I remember my voice wavering and my lips going dry. I was always so embarrassed to read what I had written in front of an audience.

Read it again

I vividly remember this being the one time the tutor asked me to “read it again”. Looking back, I wish I had read it with more conviction, with more belief in myself. Nonetheless, I was very proud to be asked to read it a second time.

Now, Substack can be my place of reading aloud with conviction.

Oh, were you looking for some backstory on the subject matter? That’s a post for another day…