Poetry By Annick Yerem

mnem CC




A. is now

a deconstructed Phoenix
She once was all bird, all colour and flight
and then-

bright yellow shirts, dark blue
crochet dresses, green dungarees

She was flowers and waves, she was sex turned girl
breathing fire into grey 

Everything that was wrong was right with her

She once was a girl in a fox in a tree, climbing

She once was her own shadow, a sliver of herself, a nose-bleeding, spider-fingered, run-drenched,
carrot-counting wisp

who thought she would break in two, who shattered, who sparked, who cried and cried
who told herself she could choose, who told herself
she could die anytime

should she choose to

like a door, like an opening, like a glimpse, a way out, soft, like a spell

she went over the edge, came back like a yo-yo, a boomerang, became her own comfort zone, both arms stretched out

She is what was left of me. She is what is left.




​Annick Yerem is a German/ Scottish poet and EIC of Sídhe Press. She has published some things in wonderful places, among them iamb, Anti-Heroin-Chic, The Storms, the Dirigible Ballon and Feral. You can find her at the bird place and on Bluesky @missyerem
​