Elizabeth Butler has a masters in Creative Writing at Edge Hill university. A beginner to publishing, her first published anthology will be released at the end of the year.
She has preformed her own poetry at local theatres.
30 - Hold
30 - Hold Everything about her was miniature. Her tiny fingers and nails, her mouth, and eyes. She stared back at me like a lost lamb looking for comfort. Her head feeling warm and fuzzy. She was a pink ball of skin wrapped around me, looking for some comfort in her crying need. Her eyes started welling up, water droplets dropped, bouncing on my shirt.
29 - Dig
29 - Dig She fell over something squelchy. Mud covered her clothes down to her hair and her boots, which she didn’t mind getting dirty, as that’s the reason they were made. She picked herself up, luckily, she was on her own and nobody else seemed to be around her in the forest she was walking.
28 - Control
28 - Control The first thing I see is the darkness, Even when I open my eyes wide. Before the boredom creeps in,
27 - Stranger
27 - Stranger Entry One - I start this journal, yes, a journal, [because diary makes me sound like a little girl] as I start my new life in the country away from the traffic and fumes of the city. Somewhere new to call home, where everything is slower and calmer. I’ll have time to think!
25 - BITE
26 - BITE I bit into Satans fruit. Unlike the fairytales were beautiful Princess suck their teeth into the voluptuous taste, it’s juices pouring down the throat turning any feeling into luxury before gracefully falling on the floor, something soft to break their fall, I didn’t.
25 - Flame
25 - Flame The first thing I notice is the smell, putrid, foul smelling Like leather in a factory. The smoke rises up
24 - Breath
24- Breath We take the air we breathe for granted. We exhale in, we exhale out. We don’t even realise were doing it if we weren’t paying attention. We can’t feel our lungs rise and falling every second. If we did, we would probably go insane.
23 - Catch
23- CATCH I’ve always felt left out, like the odd one out in a pair of socks. Something that is here but really shouldn’t be. In school, being an outsider isn’t the best thing to decide to be and it’s not as if you have a choice. You just roll up on your first day acting just the way you are and before you know it you have been sorted into a category.