Written in the Body: on gender, trauma and writing

Huge thanks to Brain Mill Press for featuring me as part of theirĀ Makers on MakingĀ series!

You can read the piece here.



All I ever wanted was to crave you,
to filter out the hollow caves
and crashing waves of sound,
to leave the shore for the depths
and deeper.
All I wanted was to swallow you whole,
but you’re barely a mouthful,
barely a breath,
barely there
at all.


No-one in my family will admit that my sister has an eating disorder. It’s just how things are with us, I think. Once I had a therapist ask who I’d phone in a crisis – I like that, “crisis”, that little verbal sleight-of-hand that both covers and implies all the falling apart, bullet in glass, vomit and blood awfulness that a crisis actually involves. I said I’d phone the Samaritans.

Continue reading “snow”


do you remember walking on the beach together
last december?
the wind was a thin wail, numbing us,
carding cold fingers through our hair
until you were blue with it.
the tide sliding out until
wreckage and bits of driftwood rose out of the water
like bones shyly showing through skin.

please eat, i wanted to tell you,
please, just eat.
but you could no more just eat
than i could swallow the entire sea.