by Elizabeth Gibson
That cold Saturday, I was done with all your bullying,
so I ate my box of chocolates from work, that I earned.
I watched my Studio Ghibli DVDS, one after the other,
When Marnie Was There, then From Up on Poppy Hill.
I watched trash telly, discussed it in depth with my Mam.
I savoured chunks of halloumi and fat, oily tomatoes,
then dusted off my forbidden caramel granola for supper.
I read and read: hopped shamelessly between all the poetry
and graphic novels I had told myself I had no time for.
I stayed in pyjama bottoms, started to remember the smell
and shape and texture of me, tucked into my round chair.
I did no laundry or ironing, washed neither hair nor dishes.
I weighed myself before bed and I was exactly the same,
and I knew your spell had broken, and it was like Christmas.
Elizabeth Gibson is a poet, performer and tutor in Manchester, UK. Her writing is inspired by city life, self-love, the queer community, mental health, body image, and the environment. In 2020, she was chosen to represent Manchester City of Literature in the Tartu Bus Poetry Project, with her poem “Arrival”, about migration and belonging, translated and shared on bus windows in Tartu, Estonia. In 2021, Elizabeth was awarded a significant DYCP grant from Arts Council England, to allow her to focus on further exploring and owning her queerness through poetry. She edits Foxglove Journal, and tweets and Instagrams as @Grizonne.