Escape Artist

Written by Laura Lees

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My hands have not stopped shaking for two days now,

My bones ache and my breath catches,

And butterflies try to erupt from my chest.

When you live in a house that is permanently on fire,

You learn to fall in love with the cold,

Drive with the windows wound down in the winter.

I drive as much as I do because I cannot run,

Fly South down the motorway with dreams of the West Bay,

The crash of waves against the cliffs, extinguish the flames in my mind.

Or do I head Northbound? Back to the beginning?

Throw me into the loch and watch me sink,

Memories of Largo Law and shouts of my name.

Escaping is an art form I have not yet perfected,

Try to untangle the web of connections: can you ever truly disappear?

Take the memories of your home with you.

Chained into my seat at a pantomime I do not want to attend,

I am forced to watch the scene play out in front of me, repeat my lines, “he’s behind you!”

I cannot entertain this anymore, but I am stuck.

To escape the bonds that hold me here is impossible,

They locked me in a box, threw away the key,

Told me to sit still whilst the magician brings his saw.

I am still young, I am no Houdini,

I am still trying to sort which parts of me are actually mine,

And which I have borrowed from the people I loved.

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Laura is a Msc Management student, BA English graduate and resident of South Leicester. She enjoys poetry, local news and reading.

Feature image provided by @ellajohnson8