Poetry Blog by Jill Ashforth (advice)

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The Time Traveller

If I could, what would I say to myself?

 

Aged five. At the hospital, playing with my new sunglasses and viewing the world from behind sunshine yellow tinted frames,

whilst butterfies flutter inside my tummy.

”Mummy will live and laugh again.”

 

Aged fifteen. At secondary school, pulling down my skirt and getting to my feet, numb and hollow.

”It’s not your fault.”

 

Aged...

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