I am not a black sheep.

I am not everybody’s girl.

I am not anybody’s to keep.

I am not some swollen sex toy,

Push buttons for your


I’m no-one’s to discard or destroy.

When you look into my eyes

They sparkle. Can’t see it?

You are the one who is deprived.

My body is imperfect, nourishing, soft.

Don’t want to touch me anymore?

I guess that’s your loss.

My mind is sharp, aware, wise

Want a chat?

Or are you scared I’ll cut you to size?

You’ve knocked my ego, but I

Can pick it up again.

All I need to do is repeat this affirmation;

Originally published in a printed issue 001 of GUM, “Zeitgeist” (Autumn 2017)

If you liked this poem, check out my website jenhugheswriter.com and follow my Facebook and Instagram.

Anyone who’s known me for several years knows that my long hair was a big part of who I was.

I started growing my hair when I was 10, and before I knew it I was 15 and my hair was right down my back. I hadn’t done anything with it for two years because life just got in the way. It was burdensome. It took over an hour to dry, and even longer to straighten or curl. In fact, I found it difficult to even style it properly because there was so much of it. …

David Tennant (10th) has always, and probably forever will be, my favourite incarnation of the Doctor. It was the season finale of Season 2 that started my lifelong love for the show, and my love continued right up until he regenerated. After I had seen Tennant’s era, I watched the previous incarnation (and first Doctor in its return in 2005), Christopher Eccleston not long after and adored him too.

After most of my childhood having had him as my Doctor, 10 was taken from me. He didn’t want to go, and in sauntered Matt Smith. My broken heart aside, I…

Light flows through my hands.

My brain is a hive of buzzing bees.

You must understand

I need a release.

I have the urge to write like

The need to pee.

Things like Task and Time

Are learned concepts to me.

I cannot truly imagine what an idea ‘should’ look like

I can only release what’s already inside.

Image by @itsartbynina (Instagram)

To you,

I opened my soul in the dark. To you, it was a roll around the park. To you, what was I? A laugh? A whore? An easy ride? All your courtesy and respect died. You left me out to dry.

You saw everything you had to see and cut contact with me. I cried as if I was bereft but my eyes are clear now. You’re the one who has lost out. You’ll chase after some glossy glam girl, and then another. You’ll smirk but you’ll never be truly happy. And now I’m happier that we’re apart.


I cannot even think of where to start. Hmmm… wait, I think I’ve got something! Okay, here goes:

People say that the human brain is like a complex computer: it can do logic and maths problems, transmit information, have memories that grow, adapt and learn, etc. Although, the pitfall with that analogy is that computers can only follow commands- they don’t have freewill, love, passion and, of course, creativity. …

I have a dam with cracks

Around my heart

I’ve built it to protect myself

From the insidious threats before they start.

But every now and then the feelings seep in

and the water boils

The concrete gets weak in heat

I try every day to stop the flood

Consuming me

Drowning you

What sureity is there the fire

Inside will reignite?

Steady there sledgehammer

Make like chisel and trust me.

Work with the concrete block

To sculpt something beautiful for us.

Jen Hughes

Poet, short-story writer. Blogger at Outlet Publishing’s Diary of a Young Writer. My chapbook “Keep On Spinning” out in October. Find me at jenhugheswriter.com

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