Grey, bleak, skipping past tired faces, sweaty lips, creased brows White knuckles clutching yellow poles, chewed nails with broken paint fiddle with split ends Empty eyes stare desperately into phone screens, typing but never pressing send; there’s no signal down here We’re being pushed through time and space in the dark, under a million people’s … Continue reading Rush Hour Crush
metaphorical
Falling Rain at Dawn
The distant sound of gentle drums drift into my dreams, I flutter into consciousness, I tear myself from the comforting darkness clinging to my skin under the sheets I'm pulled into the waking world quickly. A deafening throb of hearts beating, blood pumping, lungs filling, lashes parting, reassures me. Cold air from the night still … Continue reading Falling Rain at Dawn
Chapter two from my novella continued
Although we had many servants, I rarely saw them and on the occasion we happened to meet, I was always met with startled and apologetic mumbles and perhaps unremarkable small talk. As a young girl you can understand that this was not interaction enough. I would dream of meeting other little children, of sharing my … Continue reading Chapter two from my novella continued
The Bird
A bird is in her cage with shining new silver bars, At first she sang as she had not realised that she had been trapped, A prisoner of her vows. Now she has no voice, no house, no choice. Her strong wings have been clipped- And her wild ways tamed. Her once bright eyes now … Continue reading The Bird
Alicia Jones Poetry 