Childwall Malaise

by Sophie Brown

Tepid rooms, light and dark in equal parts

Light bulbs on, outshone by the shy sun

Dust dancing, rising high, the window is the jail separating me from the sky 


Windows propped open slightly, a bee runs past and passes on my room

I can smell Thyme, tea being slow roasted, the heat layers upon heat, my face toasted 


Creams and blues and pinks, the walls in the shadows are icy and kind against my cheek, why does summers arrival make me feel so weak.