Abi Haynes is a postgraduate student who enjoys writing both creatively and academically. She is pursuing a PHD in social policy which focuses on the experiences of working-class students in UK education.  Her personal writing focuses on interpersonal relationships and emotional experience.

The baby in the party dress

She’s sobbing in the corner.
Her body contorted to sit the way she once saw a fairy in a film perch on a flower -
Even in desperation she seems to cater to a voyeur.
As I get closer the details of her dress become clearer
A lilac party dress embroidered with roses,
Filthy from tearing through mud and catching on trees.
Her crying grates me slightly,
It’s as though she’s trying to make it louder,
Forcing it through the walls-
Waiting for someone to hear her.
I can hear her.
I bend down to get closer whilst my insides scream for distance.
She doesn’t look at me as the tears begin to drip from her nose.
Now I’m here she doesn’t want me-
Biting back her sobs with violent convulsions.
Her hair is sticking to spit and snot,
matting on her face.
Evidence of self-attempted plaits sneak out the edges of her birds’ nest-
A bittersweet ode to girlhood.
Un-snaking her hands which were so tightly clinging to her body,
She holds them out nearer to me.
It feels as though she thinks if I touch her, we will both burn.
“Did I do this?” I think is what she said.
And as I look down, I see blood begin to run off her fingers onto the floor.
My stomach twists and I am saddled with this fear of blame, of trouble.
I can’t bring myself to tell her she must have done it-
Else why would she be covered in blood?
The silence fills with her quiet whimpers. 

Winter

My softness is fleeting
Warmth buried deep in the burrows of my ribcage
Cowering as my bones rattle from the cold
Hands on my skin are grating
Forcing me further into my own skeleton
Leaving behind only the irony of chilblains
What I long for horrifies me
A melting snowman with a Chelsea smile-
Grinning as he spills onto the floor
As my lips turn blue to spite the heat-
I find myself almost vindicated
Harsh like frost on frozen mittens
My blood vessels shrink away from the touch
Twisting deeper into the darkest recesses
Like a violet desperately retreating from the blaring sun
The violence of another turning me inside out