Comments 37

In The Echo

When the door shut behind you

I felt my chest crack open

like a plum ripe to splitting

skin purpled like shadow

and tearing at the seams

to reveal the framework of bone

latticed around deflating lungs

my sternum finally loosening

as I breathed out at last.


Tonight we’re writing concept poems over at Poetics for dVersePoetsPub. If you want to join in click the badge above to check out the prompt.

This entry was posted in: Poetry


Carol Forrester is a twenty-four year old writer trying to be a better one. Don’t ask her what her hobbies are because the list doesn’t get much beyond, reading, writing and talking about the same. She has a 2:1 BA degree in history from Bath Spa University and various poems and stories scattered across the net. Her flash fiction story ‘Glorious Silence’ was named as River Ram Press’ short story of the month for August 2014 and her short story ‘A Visit From The Fortune Teller’ has been showcased on the literary site Ink Pantry’s. Most recently, her poem ‘Sunsets’ was featured on Eyes Plus Words, and her personal blog Writing and Works hosts a mass of writing from across the last five years. She has been lucky enough to write guest posts for sites such as Inky Tavern and Song of The Forlorn and is always open to writing more and hosting guest bloggers here on Writing and Works. With hopes of publishing a novel in the next five years and perhaps a collection or two of smaller works, Carol Forrester is nothing if not ambitious. Her writing tries to cover every theme in human life and a lot of her work pulls inspiration from her own eccentric family in the rural wonders of Shropshire life.


  1. Oh Carol, I know that door closing, the mixture of relief, regret, what might have been, what never was. Well done. Love the plum metaphor.

  2. Good golly, this is impressive! I love that it could be that the door is closing in front of or behind, that someone could be coming or going, that the exhale good be pain or love or list or relief.

    I love this poem.

    • A bit like the stone in the plum. Thanks for the comment Alison. If you’ve got a moment I’d love your thoughts on another poem I put up yesterday called Legs Eleven.

  3. Your body is enacting the split without bias. But when you breathe out at last, there is relief, and dare I say peace, as your mind catches up to your matter.

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