I Hate Lamplight

I hate lamplight. I hate the way it distorts objects I view from a distance, objects that slap me with clarity as I approach. I hate the way it highlights what I don’t want to see, and the way it narrates your thoughts without you uttering a word. I hate that it witnesses my devastation when you whiplash my heart, and how it betrays my grief—every distortion of my facial contours, the ugly droop of my gaping mouth, and how it spotlights the tears rolling down my cheeks. I hate how it illuminates my wail like it was mist

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Thank you for spending a moment with my words. If you like the way I play with letters from the alphabet, I would be honoured to have you as my guest, on my profile, where you can read whatever takes your fancy.

Teresa Renton has a first-class degree in English Linguistics and Language Creativity. Her work has previously been published or is forthcoming in Ink in Thirds, Flash Fiction Magazine, Across the Margin, Stick Figure Poetry, 101 Words, and elsewhere. She has recently been a finalist in Women on Writing’s Autumn ‘25 flash fiction competition.

Here’s a recent prize winning poem: