Poetry by Bex Hainsworth

Dr. Matthias Ripp CC



Apostasy

The last year of my childhood
was spent bargaining with God.

On cold, dry days I would climb
this hill behind the houses –
getting higher, closer to the sky,
seemed to mean something.

I’d heckle, at first. Jeer and grumble,
pull up clumps of grass and scatter
it like ashes, like a reluctant sacrifice.

Then the bartering would begin.
My entrance exam, my sanity,
years of my life – just let him
say that he loves me, just once.

I was willing to trade it all
for someone who knew better,
but pretended not to.

The day I left for university,
I prayed for him. One last bargain.
Let him find the happiness he’s craving.

Six months later, I was diagnosed with
clinical depression.

My third night on mirtazapine,
fully dissociating, I was so aware
of my own consciousness
as I stared at myself in the mirror
that I knew there was no afterlife.

No begging this time, no covenant.
Instead, I called my grandmother.
She answered. 
​


​Bex Hainsworth (she/her) is a bisexual poet and teacher based in Leicester, UK. She won the Collection HQ Prize as part of the East Riding Festival of Words and her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Heavy Feather Review, Ethel Zine, Atrium, Okay Donkey, Acropolis Journal, and Brave Voices Magazine. Her debut pamphlet of ecopoetry will be published by Black Cat Poetry Press in 2023. Find her on Twitter @PoetBex.