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Best Poems Written by Keiera Pooley

Below are the all-time best Keiera Pooley poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Keiera Pooley Poem

A Poem About Not Wanting To Remember

My life was my book, 
every word scribbled onto the pages were 
memories in my mind, every letter was a choice I decided to make 
and every page turned was a new day full of old experiences,
it wasn’t a printed book, It was handwritten,
perfect for me to chaotically scribble every 
mistake I made and cross out the things 
I didn’t want to remember. 
But no matter how many lines were crossed 
over the thin sheet it was never enough 
to erase them, 
so I decided that I’d had enough. 
My book hadn’t been finished but I was done with remembering, 
I’d closed the chapter and told myself I’d never 
look at that ink again, 
because I was afraid if I smudged it, it’d be left on my skin forever.

Details | Keiera Pooley Poem

when i was younger, a meal out at a restaurant wasn’t a weeks worth of skipping breakfast
it wasn’t laxatives to make me feel worth something.
since i was a child, the word fat has been used to shame people. it never hurt me, until i realised it was supposed to. so when i was called fat i took a look at myself in the mirror and didn’t see a healthy child who enjoyed three meals a day, i saw a girl who would look better with her fingers down her throat.
i didn’t realise feeling hungry would become a thing i felt proud of, something about the cold water travelling down to the empty pit of my stomach made me feel whole.
i began to forget all of the things i loved in life and my illness was all i thought about.
people would comment on my weight and i became a valuable subject of conversation. “oh look at how slim her legs are” “look how much weight she’s lost on her face”
why would i stop when my eating disorder was the most exciting thing about me.
dinner dates with friends and movie nights turned into checking the calories on a bag of popcorn and crying when i realised i’d surpassed my daily limit.
the scales became my best friend and i wasn’t worried anymore about feeling full, i was obsessed with feeling empty
i was scared of what would happen if i picked up the fork or didn’t check how many calories were in a tomato
binging because my support system and purging became my routine
the illness hasn’t stopped hurting me and i’m afraid it will never stop
but i’m more afraid that it does
-unKnown Person

Details | Keiera Pooley Poem

The Fork

food isn’t seen as fuel and nourishment, food is seen as guilt and shame
your bones wear thin and your hair falls out in clumps 
you see your ribs when you lift up your shirt and you feel your hipbones stick out whenever your boney fingers are placed on them. 
your throat is sore from the acid and the vomit flowing through you
your family know they should hide away the knifes and the blades 
but what’s worse is that they’re scared you’re hurting so badly you might even harm yourself with a fork
but isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along? 
you put down the fork... and haven’t picked it up since

-unKnown Person

Details | Keiera Pooley Poem

An absent father

you can enjoy the delicacy of a rose without touching it
enjoy it without embracing it
knowing it is perceived as gentle, kind, forgiving
but it’s thorns are always going to be there
always going to be just as sharp
pinpricks turned to razor blades if you get too close
you can enjoy the rose from a distance, 
but don’t you dare get too close again

Details | Keiera Pooley Poem

Gentle Love

i want somebody to love me;
to love me completely 
and utterly 
and unapologetically
i want a beautiful love
the kind of love that is gentle
the love where i feel the soft hands of somebody place their coat over my shoulders in the cold
the subtle love of their hand resting on my ankle when we’re sat somewhere in public and everyone is around 
but nobody is feeling what either of us do in that moment
people talk about loving dangerously 
i don’t want anymore danger
i don’t want anymore hurt
or caution 
or destructiveness
i don’t want somebody to love me so hard it burns a hole in their heart
but somebody to love me so much the only burns they know come from the fire they feel inside when we hold eye contact for a moment too long 
i’m sick of people matching pain with love 
and hurt with feeling 
not everything has to hurt anymore
at least that’s what i want somebody to whisper to me while my head is on their chest 
and their hands are laced in my hair 
and suddenly it’s not november anymore
and i’m not cold
and i’m not hurt
and i’m not bleeding;
i’m just here 
in love 
in a warm bed 
with their body intertwined with mine 
and the window is slightly open

Details | Keiera Pooley Poem

A Little Cut

it wasn’t deep
not at all
it was just a gentle push against the skin
enough to silence the demons 
screaming at me in my mind 
it was just a scarlet trail
a feeling to stop feeling 
a little cut 

-unKnown Person

Details | Keiera Pooley Poem

the silver teaspoons

two silver spoons, 
two completely different people
tied together by children, marriage, 
divorce
they shared a home 
two decades of life 
and then nothing 
just children; bound by blood, 
broken by each other 
they’re in the same room, fingers brushing as they pass each other banners to stick on the walls 
i was the first born 
the first broken 
but the last to arrive at the party 
i decorated the cake with him, 
putting our beliefs aside to decide where to place the candles 
aligned with my mother 
but stood with him while she’s in the other room 
i was in the middle of every fight 
sometimes the cause 
but i didn’t choose to be born 
so i decorate this cake 
two metres from us sit the room i try to forget 
we form a circle and talk about our addictions 
what we lost 
who we lost 
i lost my father 
and i lost myself 
one long before the other 
i just can’t figure out who 
he has no idea these thoughts are in my head
or that locked room has any more meaning to me than just a locked room 
so while we agree where to place these candles 
i hear the conversations in my head 
i was their marriage counsellor; too young, 
too under qualified 
now i stand with them 
one each side of me; 
and they smile at each other or maybe through each other and past each others silhouette to the memories of what they once were 
they were married 
divorced 
one drinks tea 
another drinks coffee 
i measure the sugar 
i pour the milk 
i have the urge to clean up their cups 
maybe because i couldn’t clean up their marriage 
i dry the teaspoons and place them away in the drawer 
they are so separate now  
but today their used tea spoons sit in the same drawer 
i cannot have my mother and father together again
they will now stand in the same room, but not for too long 
at least i can lay their spoons together to rest

Best Poems Written by Keiera Pooley

Bpd Love

A Poem About Not Wanting To Remember

Broken Heart

Growing Up

Eating

The Fork

An absent father

Gentle Love

A Little Cut

the silver teaspoons

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