Learning to Fly – A poem

Image by the author

I have all this life I can’t contain

Every thought and feeling fall like rain

It overflows, slipping through my fingers

As they land, the sensation lingers

I can’t hold them; even though they’re my own

I’m surrounded, but I feel so alone

The sands of time erase all in the end

But my will to live will never bend!

There’s only so much I will see and do

But I won’t stick to the tried and true

I’ve never been one to follow the herd

So, I’ll grow some wings and fly like a bird!

When I learn to fly, I’ll see so much more

I’ll fly over every mountain and every shore

I may not be able to hold onto everything

So I must let go and spread my wings!

Written by Miss Wren

My Life Was Not My Own

Photo by Artem Kim on Unsplash

My life is not my own

I’m not sure if I lost it

Or never had it to begin with

I’m falling apart, bit by bit

I live to serve your every whim

A vessel of compliance and sin

I did everything you wanted

But that’s a game I could never win

I was always bad in your eyes

Something broken never to be fixed

It took many years to realise

That you had made me weak and transfixed

By an icy stare, an insult, and lies

And the vaguest notion of admiration

Held up too high for me to reach

To remind me that I was your creation

It was like I owed you

My life, my very existence

Because I believed you to be true

And your love was my sustenance

I realised I didn’t need you

The way you needed to hurt another

I believe in myself; I know I’m true

But you, you’re no one – some other


Written by Miss Wren

Celebrating the Little Victories

Image by author

Today has been tough but rewarding.

It’s good to finally have created an illustration just for this article!

I thought about writing a full-length article, but that can wait for another day!

I’ve been nervous about posting my own art online for the last few weeks. Whilst I’ve been sketching in my sketchbook most days, I had lost my confidence to actually post anything.

I didn’t believe that my art was any good.

Not thinking your skill is good enough to be shared stops many people from progressing in that skill. It doesn’t matter if you draw, write or play an instrument. It’s prevalent in all creative pursuits. When you demonstrate your skill to the wider world, we expose ourselves to rejection, criticism, and ridicule.

It’s not easy to overcome.

So every time you do share a song you’ve made, a sketch you’ve done or a poem you’ve written, give yourself a pat on the back! Treat yourself! Quite often the anticipation of showing someone your work is worse than the act.

The only way you can overcome your fear is to keep sharing the stuff you make. The more you do it, the less scary it becomes. That’s not to say that the fear completely goes away — your mind is just able to handle it better. I’m less nervous about sharing my writing than I am with my art.

Creativity is an expression of the human soul. We are vulnerable when we show our talents to the public. It’s okay to be a little scared. Most other artists understand this and tend to avoid being too critical of other artists in the same field. We’re all in the same boat.

So I’m giving myself a pat on the back for sharing this illustration! I hope to do more illustrations for articles in the near future!

Written by Miss Wren

Little Bird

Image by Miss Wren

Inside a metal cage

A little bird sings

It chirps and it twitters

A song that only it can understand

As it puffs its chest and lets its notes ring in the air

The passion is unmistakable

Listen, and you will understand

The passion is the answer

Not everything has a why

But that bird shouldn’t be in a cage

It should be soaring upon high, in the big blue sky

You might ask me ‘why?’

And I say this;

The bird has wings, it is meant to fly!

Written by Miss Wren

Disassociation – A poem

The thoughts spin around and around and around my head

They move fast, but I can read all of them

My internal monologue is laid bare to my eyes

They dart madly to keep up with the words

As they get faster and faster

First, I panic, then the world goes dark

I’m done now, you take the wheel

You are here and I am not

Do what you need to do

Just promise to wake me up when it’s over

So, I can clean up the mess you made

Written by Miss Wren

The Thief – A poem


You took my voice

You broke my wings

Said it was a choice

To lose such petty things

I was mute and crippled

Just the way you liked me

Your hate and disdain rippled

For all but me to see

Jealousy is an ugly beast

As is your entitlement

You could of, at the very least

Left me out of your torment

You didn’t have to be like this

It didn’t have to be like this

Why did it have to be like this?

Why did you have to be like this?

Could you even love?

Did you even care?

You never rose above

You never even dared

Turns out I didn’t need you

As much as you needed to hurt another

I cut you off, then pushed through

All your lies that kept you undercover

You had nowhere left to hide

I was no longer at your side

Written by Miss Wren

I’d Rather Burn Out Than Fade Away

Art by Miss Wren

I’m terrified of fading away. I’m terrified of not leaving my mark on the world.

It’s not so much dying one day, but not living out my dreams.

I don’t want to work in an office or a customer call centre or behind a till.

I want to be a writer. I want to be an artist. I want to be a poet. I want to be a singer.

I’d rather try and do my best at all of these things and be dead at 50 than live into my eighties, wondering what could have been as I sit in a care home.

Maybe that’s a little morbid for someone who’s only 29 years old, but at this point I feel like I haven’t even got off the ground.

My poor mental health and my rocky childhood have robbed me of so much. I have a chip on my shoulder. I’ve envied those who had it better than me for a long time. Not anymore.

I’ve realised that sort of thinking doesn’t get you anywhere. My scars have healed and they’ve made me strong. There’s very little I fear now.

Not giving it everything I’ve got is my greatest fear of all. I would rather burn out than fade away. I want to live my life to the full than kind of live for a long time, not amounting to much.

That’s why I write more now. That’s why I draw more now. That’s why I lift weights and walk in the woodlands. I want to be alive. I want to feel alive.

I’d rather burn out than fade away.

Written by Miss Wren


There’s nothing louder than the silence

Of a soul that’s unfulfilled

Its screams through a void of violence

Grieving for hopes and dreams that were killed

Written by Miss Wren

Gold in the Cracks


The Japanese have an art called Kintsugi

Where they fill cracks in broken pottery

They use lacquer as glue, dusted in gold

And all the cracks shine, glittering and bold

They see the value in something broken

They see the history of the unspoken

Cracks are treasured, not hidden away

Never to be shown to the light of day

I see myself in this philosophy

My scars are like cracks in the pottery

Your love is my gold, making me sublime

My flaws have become beautiful in time

You saw the beauty when I was shattered

You picked up every piece that scattered

Put me together, accepted my flaws

You saw me as the worthiest cause

I see you, my love — broken from mistakes

See you trying to mend your own heart aches

My love is your lacquer, let me hold you

Hold you until you’re set, my trust is glue

Rivers of gold are like veins on our souls

They connect us like the Kintsugi bowls

The cracks fit together, they tell a story

Of our love, our life, our pain and glory

Written by Miss Wren

Saved From Myself – A poem

I lived my life in fear

I lived my life in chains

I lived my life like I would live again

And again, and again, and again

Making the same mistakes

Living second by second

The past living in the present

With no future ahead

Put the past on repeat, let it loop

Until it sinks into my brain

Conditioning my mind, my soul

Until things can never be the same

Except they are the same

The same as they’ve always been

The shadow creeps

The voice echoes

The ground trembles

The background noise of a lifetime

Washes over me like waves

You think that there’s something different?

What else is there but here?

There is nothing beyond here

Here is safety

Here is panic

Here is danger

Here is fear’

Says the voice inside my head.

One day I awake from my dream

And I see what is happening around me

The dream fades into reality

A new reality

One that’s hard, cold and stark

This is the life beyond the life

Hidden in the dark

I can make it my own

But I can’t make it alone

Guide me through this

Help me find the bliss

That’s escaped me for so long.

Written by Miss Wren