Childhood by Charlie Bourton

I forgot the nursery rhymes, not all,

But some.

Stories dispersed into the ether, cosmic dust.

It’s less magical than it sounds.

I forgot about the parachute game, playing mums and dads,

While trying to master it now.

I played away the fun as I pretend in reality.

I don’t remember a time before delicate, tired skin,

Pre: pubescent, bleeding, lactating, stretched and scarred.

I can’t remember the name of my first favourite novel,

Life before intrusive thoughts and calories,

But I remember how I felt.

I still feel that now.

Illustration by Sky Costello-Ross

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Charlie Bourton (@char.liebou) is a creative and critical writer from Bristol. Originating as a poet, she now practises as an author, essayist and editor. As a proud UWE alumna, she aspires to publish an anthology of poems and flash fiction one day