Affection – Kristiana Reed


“you didn’t give me enough affection”

fifteen, naive

and couldn’t have known


still wouldn’t

almost ten years later;

she believed

this meant

she had to pump

her blood

like breastmilk,

bottle it up

and share it.

you didn’t want her

last sweet,

you wanted her first


and the nectar

she kept from you.

she believed

affection was currency,

kisses to buy company,

hands to hold

a future in,

favours to build

a house with.


made her swallow

her words and die


with them;

a tombstone

for every time

she wished she had

said something.

she let you

court other women

and still call

her the one,

under your thumb.

she pumped

her blood,

stored her nectar

in jars

and allowed your lessons

to teach her

she wasn’t enough

to be loved.


Kristiana Reed day dreams, people watches in coffee shops, teaches English and writes. She is a curator on Blood into Ink, a collective member of The Whisper and the Roar & Sudden Denouement, and blogs at My Screaming Twenties. She is 24 and is enjoying the journey which is finding her voice.

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