when i choose a colour
for the sun
i choose the red crayon
& scrub it into a circle
until my face is red too
& my wrist is tight as wire.
when my picture is finished
i take matches from my father’s coat
and burn my sun where we keep coal.
i always do this when my brain
makes my tummy shrink with memories
of feeling like i’m no good.
(maybe you think kids like me
cannot carry the same weight as you
but we have ways).
after my sister died i gave her a day
from each of my weeks. sometimes
i give her two. we go into the towel
cupboard and talk about how messed up
everybody is; walking around with bags
of stuff and phones that make them sad.
i think she likes it where she is.
she never feels tired like me
or wishing for things to make her laugh.
tomorrow if the sun is red in the evening
i will take my top off so i can see it
redden my skin. i will wear green jeans
so i look like a rose in my stone garden.
Eugene O’Hare
Eugene O’Hare was shortlisted for the 2021 poetry prize at Belfast Book Festival. Recent poems have appeared in Dedalus Press, Atrium, Crossways, The Galway Review and others. His plays are published by Methuen. He is currently based in London.