by Kate Hewett

i hide in the chapel
i try not to eyeball the floating Jesus immortalised in his crucified pose
apologies Jesus
i don’t fuck with you
but damn
this quiet is my saviour

when you say i can tell you anything
i wish we were strangers
so i would not have to fake alleviation
as if
and repackaging myself
for your curiosity
for you to prove that slow motion replays seals slow healing wounds

Is being my lover not enough
that you must also be my saviour?

my saviour is ginger tea
bought with undertones of remedy for faux morning sickness
bought to sooth real nausea
from accidental reminders of events
time has swallowed
and occasionally gifts to me
regurgitated and messy

in the form of consent posters
stuck proudly on the university bathroom walls
i would apologise as it’s for sure a sin
but i am not sorry
that i
rip these down these reminders
the nicked blue tack in my pocket
leaving them as smalls decorative rugs
on the water-splatted floors
sucking the black ink out
haemorrhaging it into thin tentacles
exploring the floor
searching for white trainers

silence saves me

Kate Hewett| @katehewett1

Kate Hewett is a third year Creative Writing and English Literature student at who experiments with writing a mixture of short fiction, script and poetry.

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