The first touch, lightning, soft,

was wrapped up in a neat bow.

It was a fire on a summer day

that had suddenly turned cold.


A second condensed into a

raindrop in my life, when the

heat got too much and burned

away the refreshing downpours,

 the Heavenly moonlight.


The first die was rolled that day, Fate looked

us in the eyes. A day that kissed

our foreheads,

a light to guide when our day

 turned dark.

Fire, when summer

chilled our bones again.

Burned into my mind:


one touch holding time.


Lydia Pearson


Lydia is a twenty-year-old upcoming writer. They study English Literature and Creative Writing at Lancaster University. They’ve been published by Masque and Spectacle, Literary Yard, CafeLit, Scarlet Dragonfly Journal, and Quail Bell Magazine. They’ve had poetry published in Because Mental Health’s Magazine and Queer Yoga North’s Freedom Booklet. They’ve performed their poetry at several Open Mic Nights. They were published in nineteen Young Writers Anthologies from the ages of twelve to eighteen, and their secondary school’s poetry anthology. They write online social media posts for Mental Health Notebook and Because Mental Health Magazine. They enjoy reading, listening to music and spending time with friends and aspire to be a published writer and an English Tutor one day.

Post a Comment

Previous Post Next Post