I made it through. On my own.
I found a way out.
I like to pretend.
Imagine my body as a machine. That way
of hands unwanted
can be washed away. Free
of fingerprints, only at risk
of rust. And what is rust if not
a sign of survival. And isn’t risk
only held in a heartbeat.
I want a signal
that screams I made it through. On my
own. I found a way out. But here I am
undeniably human. I pretend.
Like a child with building
that I can make something solid
from this. Less howl at
the back of my throat, more birdsong.
But can a machine girl sing?
I think I’d lose my voice for this.
What I love about poetry is the unique lyricism a poet brings to their work. I love being able to hear someone’s voice shine through their poems. I write mostly as a way to process my own trauma, and find catharsis in the way poetry can speak to things when I’d otherwise keep silent. I am a psychology student in Melbourne, Australia. My favourite part about where I live is that I can cross the road to the beach and go swimming. I have two cats, and their mischief keeps a smile on my face. I work in mental health research and I am particularly passionate about working alongside trauma survivors to create healing. My work is published in Peeking Cat Poetry, Persephone’s Daughters, 3Elements, and Amphora Magazine. My Instagram is @littlehonourings and my Twitter is @rebeccaegan__