On an old worn sofa,
She stared at the wall,
Blinking as a haze,
Climbed around her eyelashes,
Softly smoothing them,
In her closed eyes i feel her world collapsing,
Brought on by questions,
And sudden phone calls,
And chipped cups falling onto the warm kitchen floor,
With a crash,
Which the dog tilts her head towards
Meet the poet - Jess Blackwell
"Essentially, this is a poem that explores depression and anxiety. It’s from the perspective of watching someone suffering and having to notice the changes. It’s about how small things are transformed into something unbearable and additionally how that transformation can be toxically subtle sometimes. It’s like growing taller - you sometimes forget how much someone has changed from their old state to their new because it just infuses into the every day. It’s a little bit influenced by W.H.Auden’s ‘Musée des Beaux Arts’ in that way.
Depression can be isolating, for the person suffering but also for the people who are immediately around it. So this is what the poem is about - being able to see someone slip into unreachable states but not quite knowing what to do to help them out of it.
I like to think my writing style here is casual but suggestive - I’m inspired by that kinda Kurt Vonnegut-esque style. I never force writing, if it happens, it happens. It’s a very private, essential and therapeutic part of my life - I think that’s why my tone is pretty casual, it’s just me talking to me."