profile image

Nadia Coia

Updated: Sun, 11 Jun 2023 10:04 pm

nadco14@gmail.com

@iam4foot10

Contact via WOL logo

Biography

hi! I'm a 20 year old aspiring poet, filmmaker, writer, singer, and avid film lover. I started writing when I was around 15 and found it truly brings out the best in me. Currently my writing seems to focus on girlhood, womanhood, loneliness, heartache and complex emotions I can't work out. Women are often the subjects of my writing, being one myself. I am born and bred in Scotland, and adore it. luv ya !

Samples

WALKING "i know how to walk from here to there" okay, i muse back, "so walk through fires with me, walk through" i cant. i never have been able to. the places that i walk from are the mouths of cavernous houses. and from them ive only just realised i can leave. "i will give you wings and a heart and a lust for the finer things" good, i need an incentive. "but you must act upon that incentive, grasp it by the neck and kiss it" "feel an ache and know you're dying, tis the human experience." i always ache, my emotions ache. its strange to ache everywhere but physically. ive been laying in the same position for years and my back aches. WHAT WOULD THE FLAG ON YOUR PIRATE SHIP LOOK LIKE? the best times come from the sun shining at a certain angle onto the sheets of my bed. when the yoghurt tastes good and the granola doesnt need honey. when my cousin grazed his forehead, when my sister broke her arm. when i would stare up into tree's when they would stare back. lying face down on the ground smiling, because there was always the next day, and another. the strawberries were green, as were our knees and our tshirts, and we thought we were the only ones who'd ever lived this way. when i trapsed with my cousins aboard a pirate ship, we launched ourselves from the sails, into the sun, onto the toadstools. when i see them around a tablecloth, wine in cupped hands. catching their eyes. theres cake and french toast and peter pan costume in our pasts, our futures. when we return to those woods, the youngest of us will pick up a big stick. we'll all smile at each other. when the deck makes imprints on my thighs, when the wind is warm though its the end of march, and the smell of spring. when my mind returns to the woods, and my hands twirl. when the moon follows me home.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

Do you want to be featured here? Submit your profile.

Comments

Profile image

Tom

Wed 8th Jun 2022 12:02

You're welcome Nadia. Keep up the great writing. Very much enjoying so far 😃

View all comments

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message