Spring was always my favourite season.
New life blossomed and flowers bloomed,
Days dawned and dipped in sunlight
Until the brightness stung my eyes
And the insects made my skin crawl.
And so I moved on to Summer,
Skies and scars in shades of pink,
Basking in the early morning warmth.
But the sun laid waste to my pale flesh,
And the heat grasped at my throat.
And so I moved on to Autumn.
The world took on a brand new hue,
And I had never seen death so beautiful.
Soon enough, it crumbled into nothing
Between my desperate fingers.
And so I moved on to Winter.
The ice began to spread in my chest,
And a snowdrift formed in my skull.
But the cold was an old friend of mine
And as I gave in and lay in the snow,
I learnt to love you, Winter.
Anna Jackson is a queer York-based poet and short fiction writer with a special interest in feminism, horror, and fantasy. The main inspiration for her piece was the chaos of everyday life, particularly as a working student, and the feeling of constantly running out of time.
Photo by Anna Jackson.