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Oct 7, 2024 | 
aol.co.uk | Emily Hill
From Proust’s madeleines to Nora Ephron’s key lime pie, life’s most profound moments with those we love are so often defined by the food we taste. For photographer Liz Brown and her mum, Jane Spencer, it’s the taste of Christmas cake that symbolises their bond – family love has been baked into it for generations, even before they were born. “My grandma and my mum always used to bake their Christmas cake together, then my mum would bake with me as a girl,” says Jane, 71.
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Sep 19, 2024 | 
medium.com | Emily Hill
No one heard the screams I made. They dropped one by one. Losing myself to the pain. Lonely, isolated, with nothing to say. I was locked out, cold, in the rain.
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Aug 24, 2024 | 
medium.com | Emily Hill
I know you didn’t mean it, but your words cut me like glass,They shattered right through my core, skipping all protective paths. Your hatred and your anger, although it wasn’t “real”,It shook me until I died inside, with no more pain to feel. Your dancing and your screaming, it all felt so absurd. We had to keep our reactions neutral, to prevent deeper meanings that you “heard”. Life felt like a circus, one where the audience also performed.
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Aug 24, 2024 | 
medium.com | Emily Hill
Its the kind of clicheThat can make you feel attackedIs actually bigger than the lastSo whilst you might feel stuckYou’re a bit further from the pastTell someone how you’re feelingSo they can offer you a handTo fear that you are weakIt won’t be something they critique
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Jul 10, 2024 | 
medium.com | Emily Hill
Betrayal is familiar It tangles in my skin A stabbing heat rushes from head to heart Listening to the web of lies you spin My heart throbs and aches But once again I stay Because I feel too lost without you As though I'd never find my way I'm scared of being alone I don't know who I'd be So the pain I learn to tolerate Dissociation is my key Betrayal is familiar And familiarity can feel like love Especially when your lies are warm You say I fit you like a glove Except I'm the violin And you...
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Jun 26, 2024 | 
medium.com | Emily Hill
Envy. It's poison, it eats at my skinSuffocating all hopeLike a boa constrictors win*Choking. Seeing stars, shy like the London skyMy envy shrowded in cloudsIt tells me no time to cry*Restricting. Holding back, pushing envy awayTightening my inner bottleIt won't be envy's day*Exploding. Pain and fear, cascading like confettiSudden but also gentleLike a boat becoming unsteady*See envy is my snake, silently slithering in. It makes me feel unstable. But in this fight it always wins.
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Apr 2, 2024 | 
medium.com | Emily Hill
So who am I really? -Am I the girl who likes long dresses,And long flowing hair,Or maybe i’m the sneakers girl,The one who doesn’t have a care. -I could be the girl that liked climbing trees,And going on adventures,Hair blowing in the breeze. -Or am I the girl who danced and twirled? The one who was always full of joy. She liked staying in,Playing with her toys. -Sometimes the question plagues me,When my inner world seems to change,Just when I think i’m all figured out,It never stays the same.
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Mar 30, 2024 | 
medium.com | Emily Hill
- Shouting into space Where no one seems to hear The depths of my disgrace My penetrating fear - A mask upon my face One thats full of cheer Behind the scenes i’ll lace Medication with my beer - Still steady on I chase The help, so insincere A lack of an embrace Their purpose quite unclear - Although it’s not a race They’ll never get it, my dear They had a loving base A home that wasn’t so severe - So I keep shouting into space Where no one seems to hear Only seeing the mask upon my face...
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Mar 14, 2024 | 
medium.com | Emily Hill
Sometimes, the universe works in mysterious ways. The other day, I headed out to one of my favorite cafés with the intention of doing some writing — staying loyal to my recent promise of writing more consistently by adding it to my sacred morning routine. I sat down, took a few sips of my Amarisa usual (“un latte caliente con leche de coco, gracias Miguel!”) and — POOF — the electricity went out. No power, no WiFi, no cell service, and no distractions.
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Mar 5, 2024 | 
medium.com | Emily Hill
I watch the tears spill out of her blue green eyes And I reach forward to wipe them away But time prevents it I wish I could tell her That she is so loved I watch her grow angry with herself, as she screams and shouts And I reach forward to hug her But time prevents it I wish I could tell her That she can forgive herself I watch her withdraw into a shell, hiding her true self And I reach forward to take her hand But time prevents it I wish I could tell her That she can trust those around her...
