All These Bodies 

I have swam/
in a forest/

I have been/
Like a bird/
Made shelter on a roof

I have had my feathers/
ruffled/
plucked/

I have had marrow/
in my bones/

I am a body/
boneless/ plucked/ naked
Gooseflesh marking my skin/
Like a second skin

 

ALL THESE BONES 

If I knew how to dive i would dive down deep
and touch the centre of the earth like it touches
me late at night

Waiting to be knocked from my perch by a
good stone and a good throw and a good
childhood

Not hungry, not fed, never feeding, never full

The bones once held life, now suckled clean

Shallow waters spill over from my wide open
mouth, wide open body, wide open bones.


CAIT POTTER is a queer, mentally ill artist and writer. The majority of their work gravitates around the messiness of mental illness and the workings of trauma.