I am in pain,
but not the same as before.
Another day of breathlessness and struggle,
as if a test from a God I never believed in.
I am waiting, I suppose,
for the curtain to open and to be called back.
To see a smiling
Wizard of Oz looking at me with glee.
My work has become my life,
it lets me bleed all over the page.
I wish I was Julia Darling,
and the way she thought.
She made me understand
I’ve got all the time in the world.
Until I die.
Just to be me.
I only spoke to Julia once, but saw her perform many times, on my visits to Newcastle from Germany. Her poetry moved me, as did her positive attitude displayed in her work and life. When we did speak I was in awe, and she inspired me to seek classes to “out” my then personal poetry to the public. I hadn’t learnt of her death, until I returned to live in Newcastle in 2010. I was saddened, but glad I met her and saw her perform. The poem I wrote was one of my first I did at a spoken word night, it explains how my illness was swallowing up my life. After hearing and reading Julia’s work, I saw I could either let my illness swallow me up or just get on with living.
Thank you Julia