Recovery by Andrea Smith

One day you will get untangled.
One day you will wear tights without holes and eat wholemeal rolls.

One day..
you will be ok…

You’ll know whose bed you woke up in.
You won’t choke
on their version of ‘love.’

One day you will find kindness,
not love blindness.
One day you will wake up lighter,
not stoned after an all nighter.
One day your hair will be groomed,
your mortgage paid,
sleepy bedroomed,
a real bed made,
not crammed with that huge Fail.
You won’t smell of betrayal.

One day you will look people in the eye without your story resting like a lie
on your back.
One day you will be older than them.
One day you will be bolder than them.

One day you won’t stand so alone,
so vulnerable and free
With only shadows for company.
One day you won’t close your eyes to tears,
your pillow won’t ignore your fears.

One day…
One day. ..
But let’s face’ll never be fucking normal.

New Swingerella Wrecking Ball poem by Andrea Smith

Now i must take the road out of here
stepping through spring flowers i will never see die
showered in blossom like confetti
past fruit trees i will never see bloom.
I’ll set my teeth against the memories of this flowery tomb
and I’ll walk, walk away.

Feeling shiny, feeling light, feeling clear
now i will take the road out of here.

I will not look back with blame.
I am not the same bride that entered this house to hide
and though i am a widow I’m a new thing combined.
I lost my mind there
but i found a new one there
in defeat
so i will pick up my feet and walk walk away.

I will feel the sun on my face
I have lessons and love to carry with grace
and friends who picked me like a rare flower
pressed me, dried me in each hour of my tears.

Now i am taller than my fears
I must take the road out of here.
Stepping through wedding roses i will leave for someone else to enjoy
past honeysuckle buds i will leave for someone else to smell
out of this dark dark fairytale
Sunkissed with survival.

copyright Swingerella 2015

My Saturday soundbite by Andrea Smith


Share your story
open yourself wide to those closed to your words
and if closed minded clock watching watchers try to stop you
unblock their words with your unfastened tongue.
Strip their silence from them
change your dirty sheets right under their noses
and do not bleach them.
Share your story
make them stare at your ugliness
don’t make it up with make up
shake up their sanitised ‘sanity’
use a profanity
because that’s what you turned into
on the wheel of fortune.
Share your story
stop listening to the blind words of poets
with their predictable ticking timebomb
of typed up words
that make a pale reflection of your truth
to heat up a heartless attack on your heart
that you were brave enough to rip out and throw to a hungry audience.
Share your story
feed your audience
not those cosy poetry nights of expected minutes.
Share your story even if you lose everything like me.
And if you do….then stand alone and tell it, speak it, share it.
I dare you.