She sits on a step with a book in her lap
and water from the tap in a re-used bottle.
She reads and she writes and she thinks as she types;
she’s got air and got space, there’s a trace of some pain,
but it’s not out for show, most people don’t know;
it’s under the collar, undercover stuff,
and she had enough long ago, but she doesn’t mind.
It’s not all the time, but hiding’s second nature,
so butterflies and landscapes, they litter the words
and she lives far away, with so much to say
and here she is safe, because everyone can see.
He sits on the sofa with a letter in his hand
and a drink in a can left-over from last night.
He snores and he sighs and he screams as he cries,
he feels angry and bored, but she’s not here anymore,
He said he was done, done after the first round,
but she would just wind him up, and now she runs out.
So he’s done for the final time, no more chances,
she’s probably gone far away, she always had too much to say,
and he’s living in regret, because everyone might see.
Bio: Martha O’Brien is 17 and lives in Wales. She has been sharing her poetry online for almost two years and writing in journals for much longer. One of six children, her mind is as busy as her home, with poetry covering narrative topics as well as introspective reflections. She is planning to study English Literature in University and pursue a career in creative writing.