Author: Vickye Fisher


Are we who we purport to be Are we more than our liberty Are we reflections of memories Are we only what we breathe Am I the sum of bones and skin Am I just what I bleed within Am I sinful good or purest sin Am I built or grown from anything Are you strong or are you weak Are you bound to gold you seek Are you aware of the heart you keep Are you foolish for loving me Are we right or flawed and wrong Are we just birds and bards of song Are we lost souls who don’t belong Cause sometimes I don’t feel so strong And I’m broke and scared and clinging on And you’re holding my wings but I’m already gone.
Vickye Fisher © November 2016. All Rights Reserved.


Sixteen the reckoning Seventeen the glory Eighteen the future An unknowable thing Nineteen the freedom Twenty the curious Twenty one the blossoming Rosy and fresh Twenty two the burrowing Twenty three unravelling Twenty four the healing To rise above it all And twenty five the promising Still young and unevolved Wisdom lights and guides you To twenty six and on.
Vickye Fisher © August 2017. All Rights Reserved.


A week without you. It feels like years; but I can still smell you on my skin.          Thank                                                 god                                                                                                                                  for that.

Vickye Fisher © March 2018. All Rights Reserved.


Sometimes I just want all this to be over. and then sometimes I never do. It’s all there for a purpose turns for the better or the worse stacked up like cards ready to fall or ready to fly if you hit it right you were the floor beneath me and life set a time and a date to sweep you away and rip out the heart of me I cried ugly and I screamed inwardly but there’s no changing things beyond your hand I don’t believe in God but if he had a plan it would be this you dropped by just in time and you’re going on a schedule that I can already see is due for my own mental growth and progress and learning myself the tears flow freely and I’m happy they do it shows me I’m still breathing, blood’s still pumping fate’s still focused on building the artist the human, the voice piece by piece rungs of a blood-stained ladder of thorns that I’ll climb periodically before taking a break to drink in the sights and settle my stomach I was mad, I was raging, I didn’t know why I was too wrapped up in my ego to get it’s time to climb the climb is the thing; the breaks are just the recess the climb will draw the pain and the wisdom and the strength the climb will forge the woman it will shape her intent in the way it was meant the way fate would designate. The climb is the struggle the payoffs are small but somehow I don’t mind at all I don’t mind at all.
Vickye Fisher © March 2018. All Rights Reserved.


I do myself harm like it’s the only way to live like a vaccination of ills too complex to treat I do myself harm maybe I think I deserve it Maybe it’s easier than taking care of myself or believing I’m worth it Maybe I’m too tired to resist the temptation of purposely inflicted pain and suffering from the skin to the core I don’t want to do it anymore I might as well say it it’s meaningless, after all I can ‘want’ anything from spells to wormhole twists and I can want to be better to treat myself with care but it’s been fifteen years and it hasn’t happened yet and it won’t. I do myself harm as if it could only heal and I welcome all the pain second nature is to feel.
Vickye Fisher © February 2018. All Rights Reserved.


Lose yourself in the belly of the beast; forget who you are without it.
​Vickye Fisher © February 2018. All Rights Reserved.


My brain’s full of scribbles and it could be worse than drivel but the devil and the weasels have me bent over still. and I could learn to love them but I’d just be loving evil living on an even keel seems too foreign for my skin.

Vickye Fisher © January 2018. All Rights Reserved.


Please keep the porch light on; I’ll be rolling round again with my toes sunk in worn canvas and my smile the dew of an eager sunflower able to breathe for the first time and I don’t mean to romanticise loyalty honesty and truth but it’s so hard not to when it comes around it’s so hard not to.

Vickye Fisher © November 2017. All Rights Reserved.


Maybe – after all this time all these tears and all these rhymes she was right all along. You know the good ones when you see them. The nightmares and the poison are just the demons in your head telling you you need the things you don’t and the hearts you just want. I cried when she said it and I cried when we parted but for the first time it wasn’t a goodbye, just a see you soon. Just the god honest truth. This time’s the one, I thought. This is built to stay.
Vickye Fisher © November 2017. All Rights Reserved.