Marbled Thoughts


I wanted to use this image as a writing prompt, but everything I wrote was cheap plastic bin bag quality. I put the words in, but they keep breaking and falling out. So these are my rambling thoughts behind what I saw when I took this photo. Feel free to make your own.

I wanted marble skin when I was a kid. Not these freckles I was given. Now I tell myself I’m just a negative of night sky; they’re my stars. That’s if I actually think about it. Mainly I forget because I live in a world of marble, that’s what I see and I’m always surprised when someone mentions them.

I love statues, the ones that look they’re still breathing. How can you not love the talent and skill that goes into them? This is just a tiny detail of a man and woman clinging to each other. I always look at the whole, but focus on the small detail, that’s where you see skill. The way a piece flows, even with imperfections; the veins and blemishes. They don’t detract from softness created from stone. It invites you to run your fingers over its curves, feel it’s coolness. It’s what reminded me of skin. Inviting you to touch, to feel, to see curves and lines with your fingers. To find it’s pulse. That’s what I wanted to put into a poem. I think I need to trail my fingers over some more words and look for it’s heartbeat.

Mirror Mirror

When you lose someone from your life,

You look in the mirror,

And see all the things you hate about yourself.

All the reasons why they would leave. 

But people leave because of demons they’re fighting.

Because sometimes,

It’s the easy option. 

And really you’re just a bystander. 


“You will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit.” ~ Oscar Wilde The Picture Of Dorian Gray 

I know you’ll forget me,

Now you’ve gone. 

But I’ve hidden my name,

In everything you’ll touch.   

I’m in your head,

And under your skin.

You’ll forget my voice,

But you’ll see my echo in others,

And you won’t know why,

They’ll make you smile. 


When something is broken,

Doesn’t quite work,

Don’t throw it away.

The beauty is always still in there.

Help them find it and set it free.

I work in silver and copper. Took me a year of wearing to work out what was missing from my Phoenix (Yes I’m slow sometimes). Her tail. Now she is exactly what she was meant to be. It’s the same with good friendships. You take a basic 2D friendship and you give it time. Slowly it evolves into something incredibly beautiful just by giving each other the courage to be who you are meant to be.


She is the ocean of moorland,

Only tamed briefly by fire.

And even then she’ll grow back stronger.

She is in the wind that blows unstopped across heather,

Knotting your hair,

And filling you with want.

She’ll remind you you’re alive,

Blowing away sadness like the chaff that it is.

Indifferent to you,

She’ll help you find yourself.

She’s my soul.