So here we are
In the inky hours of a newborn year...
These groups of days... minutes... months
That we like to package and label
For us to feel some sort of control
to feel safe
When all it does is notify that we’re getting older
All I care about is its 2am and I’ve just gutted a fish
light in my eyes, a smile on my face and life writhing in my bloodied hands
high-fives & back claps
And I couldn’t care what year it was or that it just ticked over
Into the dawning of a new one.
Discover more of Robyn’s art, t-shirts and poetry on her Instagram.