top of page

ninth circle

by Holly McKenna

i let it burn but it just had to be done

  • the bomb, florence and the machine 

i wrote about love as though i owned it.

i stowed papers absent-mindedly to be

swallowed up into kindling again. 

the pain doesn’t change, just where you store it – 

asbestos fingers roused as the promise

of softness masked a reserve of steel wool. 

i’ll make beaded bracelets in the burning

house whilst you evacuate at first spark.

i can’t muster tears to put the fire out – 

i sway to the blaze, salve in hand instead,

as the smoke insists on catching you up. 

you’ll wear me whether you like it or not. 

my mind makes a home amongst the debris.

it’s easier to write poems from ash. 



Holly is an emerging poet from central scotland. she is the poet-in-residence for glasgow university's women in law project and has been published in myth and lore, open shutter press, the levatio, honey and lime, vita brevis press, and qmunicate.

Bình luận

bottom of page