Dark Angels from Weirdly Normal by Robin Ince and Rachel Taylor-Beales

At last
I clipped the wings of the dark angels
They'd fluttered like moths
In the last lone light of night.

Once it was black
Invisible
But ever-present
They’d beat their wings against the cooling bulb.
Only I could hear the flapping,
But I’d pretend there was no sound
For fear of showing weakness.

Then, one day
Now in middle age
I found the way
To quieten down the relentlessness.
I exposed them
By speaking up aloud.
Uncowed.
Not unafraid,
But less afraid.
Not bold,
But bolder.

Speaking out
They tumbled and twirled like maple seeds
Spinning to the woodland floor.
Not banished
Or vanished.
But unfed
Underfoot
And famished.
So nearly vanquished.
They might flutter at my heels,
But they can't carry me away
Not anymore.

• Rachel Taylor-Beales
• Robin Ince
• Spoken Word
• eclectic
• neurodiversity
• poetry and music
• United Kingdom