Blue #342

It was the dark pastel blue of my art set
the sky and the sea smudging together
it was the blue of years to come
the filter over my nightmares
the blue of bruises just about to fade
of veins under sunburn
of the pavement under rain.

You see, its the blue I always avoid.
It’s the blue your face became.

By Kimberly Jamison


In olden times, before GPS, adventurers would use sextants to find their way through more dangerous waters
but since you have returned home to the stars you were made from
I have no trouble navigating treacherous times
and although I wish you were still on this earth
I have no more need for metal instruments
I just look towards my celestial guide

By Kimberly Jamison

Dear Daughter: poem, protest, open letter to future daughters

Dear Daughter,

I can’t promise to bubble wrap you up against the world that still sees ‘doing it like a girl’ as a playground insult
your beautiful body shouldn’t have to be a war zone or a subject for debate because
it’s yours and only yours but some don’t see it that way
I can’t promise that you’ll receive that same salary or even respect as your brothers
and that you won’t be accused of throwing a tantrum when you point out the injustice
and I can’t promise you that you won’t face words that cut
that you won’t be called a slut or a whore
but I can promise you that you are worth so much more than the state of your hymen
and despite what they say, menstruation isn’t a dirty word
you do not have to be ashamed
I hope you never have to fear dark nights or alleyways the way we did
and that your voice is always heard whether you are saying yes or no, the way mine wasn’t
you are loved, so loved, and will be loved by another man, women or other
because of this
I will promise to bring you up on Angelou, Chanel, and Malala
so that your voice doesn’t shake when you speak your mind
and you don’t get told you’re lying
you will be more than pretty, more than your body
you will have soul, and most importantly opportunity
I promise to stand up for myself, so that I can fight for your future, every day of my life
I won’t do as I’m told and cross my legs or mind my fucking words, I’ll be
smashing glass ceilings with stiletto heels, being the boss in men’s fields
writing poems to speak the truth that others are too scared to admit
because they are afraid that they might look like the bad guy
well, sometimes doing the right thing doesn’t feel heroic
but I will carve out a world that is worthy of you
so that by the time this gets to you, things shall have changed
by the time this gets to you, things will be so much better
so please, dearest daughter, tell your daughters what we did
and that we tried.

By Kimberly Jamison

So background, I wrote this for a competition which is why I did not put it up here but it didn’t get accepted. I submitted it elsewhere and it still didn’t. I think my point is still worth making and I actually LOVE performing this poem because I feel powerful doing so. This is why I finally posted it here. I got over the rejection and realised I still liked it, so why not?!
So here you go.

My letter to future daughters.

Beauty Regime (poem)

I stand naked facing the mirror
getting ready for the night ahead
I rake the curls back from my face
that’s outlined with dread
because I know I’ll feel bad tomorrow
but it will be worth it in the end

I remove foundation covering
my grey and dehydrated skin
ignoring the bruised temple
that slammed against porcelain

revealing the flaked scales
hidden by too sizes too big clothes
I carefully cut my nails
so I don’t scratch my throat

then I grab my pillow
to rest my poor bones
sharp brittle fragile
protruding at every angle

I’ll sleep on the bathroom floor again
because the



dash is still too far
so I take my usual spot
the taste of Senokot and diet Coke
already making me wretch
and count down the hours until
120 laxatives take effect

By Kimberly Jamison

You were loved. You still are loved.

Recently, I have had two friend’s take their own lives. It is a shocking and bewildering thing to find out. The second of the two friends happened to be an extremely good friend of mine who I had known for a very long time. I was left absolutely heartbroken. As far as I was aware he was a lovely funny and happy young man. None of us were aware that he had been battling depression for seven years. That is the majority of the time I had known him.

This made me so sad. I had so many questions for him and all I want to do now is give him a hug and say it is okay. But I can’t. I am urging anyone who feels so sad they want to end things to talk to someone. The help is out there. You are indeed loved.

My friend was loved. So loved. The sheer amount of people at the funeral proved this. Everyone who shared their memories of him proved this. And it is just tragic that someone so loved felt like they couldn’t talk to us.

We will miss him every single day, but after a few hard days, I know now I do have to keep on keeping on. I am allowed to feel sad, and God knows I am feeling sad. I have accepted that I am going to feel bad for a while now,and for some reason that has given me comfort. I am not fighting the grief. I know I will slowly feel better and that voice that keeps asking all those horrible questions will slowly get quieter.

My friend loved us all so much, we all know he would want us to be happy. And we all will be happy again one day. Until then, I will comfort myself with the amazing memories I have of an amazing friend.


Things I learnt from my father

The other day I had to fix my laptop, a mundane task. However, throughout the process I heard my dad’s voice telling me what to do and how to fix it and even to back up everything just before I wiped it accidentally. A lucky escape! This got me thinking, my dad taught me how to fix a laptop but he also taught me many other things that have shaped my view on the world and how I conduct myself. I never really acknowledged some of these things until now but it seems appropriate to make a post just over two years after his death to show how he really did affect and teach me things that would last a lifetime. This is a list of things my father taught me and that I am still trying to use in my everyday life.

Things I learnt from my father:

  1. Never make excuses. You either have a good reason or you don’t.
  2. Don’t bullshit anyone and eventually they will stop bullshitting you. Only do this if you are willing to take people’s true opinions.
  3. Respect yourself completely.
  4. Even the longest and darkest nights end.
  5. Earn people’s respect. Then work to keep it.
  6. Never break a promise.
  7. Prepare for the worst but hope for the best.
  8. You will end up where you need to be, just trust yourself and enjoy the journey.
  9. Don’t tempt fate.
  10. Friends are common, good friends are rare and enemies are earned.
  11. Stand up for what you believe in even if you stand by yourself. The buck stops with you.
  12. You’ll go through hell…
  13. but sometimes life is very very good.
  14. The world doesn’t owe you anything. Work for it.
  15. If you love someone, show them.
  16. Offer no context. The people who matter don’t need it and no one else will listen anyway.
  17. Always apologise for your temper, especially when you lose it.
  18. Love what you do.
  19. Follow your dreams while you are young, while you can.
  20. Stop worrying.


Perfection is overrated, I’d rather pretend to be a lion any day…

I’ve had a very interesting few months. I have been writing a novel and working hard. I have moved into a new house and been catching up with my amazing friends. I even went to the South. I know right.

I can honestly say, that although the last few months have been very stressful for me due to family illnesses and moving and general life issues, I am content. I have reached a point in my life where I can honestly say I don’t worry as much about things, I don’t get as angry about things and I have let go of a few of my inner demons.

A few are still there, of course. I wouldn’t be me without them. And that is the crux of this post. I have thought a lot about perfection recently, or the strive towards perfection and how it can benefit and harm us.

I was talking with an amazing friend recently and a few quotes from our conversation were:

Everyone dislikes part of them self. Humans strive for perfection, that’s why we accomplish great things but we’ll never meet the finish line. We can’t be perfect. It’s like an endless race. And you might think what’s the point if there isn’t an end, but to me I just think what’s the point in being on the side line. Might as well go forward and get a better view. Learn to love your flaws because they make you, you.

Being in recovery for an eating disorder has made me think a lot about my imperfections.

  1. I’m very short.
  2. My hair is a mess constantly.
  3. My eyes are weird.
  4. I have truly terrible skin due to eczema and psoriasis.
  5. I store all my fat on my lower stomach.

and many more.

Another quote was:

They do though. Imperfections are what make you overcome things, try new things, find ways around things etc. Imperfections are brilliant. Why be another mould of someone else. Have dents and scratches.

So let’s try that list again.

    1. My eyes are weird. I like heavy eye make up, I get an excuse to wear it. Also I can see, even if I need glasses. I actually have eyes. I also like the colour of them quite a bit and it isn’t even noticeable. Stop comlaining, Jamison.
    2. My hair is a mess constantly. I quite like dressing like Bellatrix Lestrange, my hair is PERFECT for this. Also I can dress like a lion. As everyday wear. I think this is an acceptable thing to do, so I shall do so. I am eccentric, I don’t even care. Also curly hair can get away with mess and frizz a lot more, just saying. Stop complaining, Jamison.
    3. I’m very short. I may be short but I don’t need to duck under low branches and quite frankly I have kick ass calves from all the reaching for things and wearing heels and jumping and such. Also I am afraid of heights so… Stop complaining, Jamison.
    4. I have truly terrible skin due to eczema and psoriasis.I have skin. I am not burnt, I am not contagious, I am not actually that bad. Although this is propbably one of my worst points, I know I could be a lot worse, because I have been worse. It is mostly contained to my hands, sometimes feet and no one can actually see my psoriasis even when naked and I doubt most people even knew about it. With moisterizer and a good diet I can live mostly normally with my skin with only minor issues. Stop complaining, Jamison.
    5. I store all my fat on my lower stomach. In the grand scheme of things it is not that much fat and it is healthier than upper stomach. Also I no longer look starved. And I have boobs again. And a few crunches would make it look better. Stop complaining, Jamison.

So there we go. Flaws help us become who we are. I am a Bellatrix Lestrange fanatic who can flip her lion mane hair franticly in frustration after she has failed to reach something on the top shelf and I can stalk off under our plum tree wearing heels without having to duck the branches.


Yes, I am being silly, but you get my point. I love my flaws even though I dislike them. I guess they are like some family members. Heh heh.

We then said:

That’s why you should always have friends who are flawed. Polished stones just slide off each other. Rough pieces can fit together better

That and perfect friends would be boring as hell and probably make you go insane. The reason I love my friends is all their weird quirks and habits, admittedly I am probably weirder, but still. It is their flaws that make them…not perfect… but PERFECT FOR ME. I wouldn’t change any of them, not one single one. Love ’em. To bits. Tiny little lovely bits. Sorry, going overboard again.

So go forth and love yourself, all of yourself including your flaws. Be who you are completely and utterly. Strive forwards and find great adventures behind those obstacles you overcome. Again, like family, you are stuck with them. You don’t have to like those imperfections, but love them and you will become so much happier.