Thunder in my chest
Lightning in my eyes
Rain runs down my cheeks
Mud between my thighs
How much do you like me now?
Grass roots around my teeth
Craters in my skin
Lava flows, unpredictable
Am I what you signed up for?
Mounds ever growing, changing shape
Hide stretching, sagging, loose
Creases forming over time
New life spit out, screaming
Am I still beautiful to you?
Dear Younger Me
Dear ten-year-old, small version of me
Please get back to bed
Mama’s not going to die tonight
Papa’s not going to give you a bruise
Things are about to change, very soon
I know, I know, you’re terrified
And furious with the unfairness of the world
And although I can’t say
It will ever get fair
I do know you’ll get stronger in time
You’ll see many more sunsets
And have reasons to laugh again
So go and dry your eyes now, hug the covers tight
And try to get some sleep
Dear twelve-year-old me, look at you, all mature
But please don’t forget to be a child first
Later, there will be plenty of time
To contemplate life and death
And meddle with depression like
All the artists you look up to
But for now, please dry your eyes
And try to get more sleep
Nenagh Kurt is a 25-year-old writer/dreamer/wanderer hailing from the Netherlands. She has an MA in Creative Writing from Newcastle University (UK). Her poetry grew out of a childhood love for song lyrics, and some of her poems still have a melody in her head. Writing, reading, and singing are her preferred forms of therapy. Other passions include: talking for hours about the absurdity of social conventions, the construction of gender and sexual orientation, mental health awareness, and… cats. She really loves cats.
A few of her poems have been published in Material and Alliterati Magazine. Her portfolio page is nenagh-kurt.tumblr.com, and she’s currently working on a collection of poems on the theme of sapphic love, which you can read more about on sapphicwords.tumblr.com.