there is only one constant

On the riverbank. In the corridor. In the
laugh ache. In the small hours. On the
station platform. In the stomach churn
on the way home. In the 4am pillow
howl. In the concert crowd. In the loss
wrench. In the found weight. In the
heavy. In the water. In the razorblade.
In the unstained carpet. In the gospel
word of unworthy. In my transgression.
In the hospital ward. In the first black
eye. In the third black eye. On the
motorway bridge exit sign. In the city I
left burning. In the home he built from
my mute bones. In the pneumonia I ran
through. In the torn muscle I ran
through. In the uninvited hands I did not
say no to. In the burnout. In the
shattering. In the empty hollow. In the
seawater. In the mercy. In the plane
cabin that brought me back. In the sand
the tide took. In the sunrise. In the
one more day. In the porchlight. On the
station platform. In the small hours. In
the laugh ache. In the corridor. On the
riverbank.

You were there.

You were there.

You were there.

Leah Atherton is a linguist, poet and runner based in Birmingham, UK. She had poems about her adventures featured by iRunFar magazine and Brum Radio Poets. Elsewhere, her work has appeared in Birmingham Art Gallery and on BBC Radio WM, and was included as  part of the Beatfreeks Collective anniversary anthology, Wild Dreams and Louder Voices. She believes in strong coffee, campfire whisky and the power of muddy shoes.

You can find her on Instagram @poet_on_the_run