Memories are made in real life not on I cloud 

I am a single mother from southeast London and my escapism has always been literature wether it be reading it or creating it it’s always been therapeutic and cathartic to me. Most of my pieces are biographical and based on my real life.

Sirens and fireworks 

Sirens and fire works 

I’m just sitting here hoping my lighter works 

Wondering what will stop hurting first 

My head or my heart 

Even if I wanted to tell you where would I start 

Making the best of what’s rest of me 

After life has tested me 

One too many times 

My only solace in these Rhymes 

Cause I’ve seen so much my eyes don’t work rose coloured glasses 

Highlighting every perk 

But when the lenses crack there’s no looking back

Can’t try to make it work 

I can’t ve the technician in my current position 

Cause my candles gone out at both ends 

No matter where I go I always come back to my old ends 

And no matter how many people I try to show a glimmer of me fail to see 

So I tend to stick to my old friend 

But even sometimes they seem to fail 

To even the scale and put in the work where it need be 

But when a favours required there never to tired 

To make sure they let me know they need me 

But when I was hungry you didn’t feed me 

And called me out on being needy 

Thought you were good fruit 

But you were rotten from the root 

And what you flowered was way too seedy 

But your gardens so groomed 

And your neighbours was not 

So therefore the decay spread 

And while you were picking their fruits and planting your own 

You didn’t realise there main plant was dead 

No good soil to bury my head 

Few good ears to hear what I said 

And I saw how you cooked with my dirt on your heart 

So no thanks I don’t want your bread 

Weeds in your ears can’t you hear what I said 

I didn’t ask you to groom me prune me and clip 

To watch me and judge me 

There to remind me I’ve slipped 

So sometimes I dip 

To a place all my own 

A place I’ve preserved in my in another zone 

Where not a tablet or phone is allowed 

Memories are made in real life not on I cloud 

Where saying your proud is not an emoji 

I don’t need your feel well soon I just need you to hold me 

I don’t need you’ll get over it I just need you to fold me feel me and console me 

And keep me with all the things your consider holy

Cause it’s never your job to fix it although I’m happy you’ve tried 

Sorry if along the way part of you died 

But our pictures been painted 

And I tried not  to taint it 

Although I might have just stained it 

While we did I happy we maintained it 

Cause old scars healed I’m sorry if i made new ones 

I’d refer you to a friend if I really knew one 

But I can sit in 

Cause I don’t fit in 

But from my broken pieces a mosaic begins

Jessica Williams, London

Did you enjoy this poem? Why not visit Maggie’s website at: Maggie’s Centre Nottingham to find out more about their exceptional work and/or make a donation. Do you have a poem you would like to submit to Voices? Feel free to do so by email at: voicespoetry@outlook.com or via the ‘Contact’ page on this site.