‘I don’t know what to feel, she said,

now you know the truth,

How can this cloak of shame

that shawls my body,

scrape the bad feeling from my skin?’


Where are the sisters, brothers, 

in psyche to reassure? 


What is it when we reveal scars

that make us who we are?

Through windows, basin eyes

stare at mine, precious

manuscript blobbed in stains.


And who can tell if pain has learned

to smile? Easier to blame ourselves,

to break the occult code

on your soul. Head in arms,

muscled over piercing ears.

Hearing either wounds,

or heals the listener.


There are no accolades for

this epic journey,

bare labyrinthine thorns,

a broken bird lived – in faith

that love would come,

sea silk full with arduous baggage,

holding the key.


Across fields, buttercups

carpet grass, tiny cauldrons

filled with sun.

Within, a door stayed open.

The cow who listened, benevolent

eyes cushioned youth, flaying on

a makeshift swing.

But never mind those things

for now,

You are here, and

I am listening. 




Attracta Fahy photo


Attracta Fahy’s background is Nursing/Social Care. She works in private practice as an Integrative/Humanistic Psychotherapist/Supervisor, also a group Facilitator/Trainer. She is lives in Co. Galway, and completed her MA in Writing NUIG in 2017. She is a mother, supporting three children through college. She always loved reading poetry, and recently began to enjoy writing her own.