She

These black and white analogue photographs were taken as a part of a project in which I explored objects of significance. I wrote this poem to go alongside them:

she had the same strings for 10 years
until one day they snapped and she had to restring herself
then, she found herself singing

at first she felt scared that she wasn’t any good
but it brought her such joy, so she continued
and with time she forgot what good meant

she started to see the beauty of her curves,
the brown of her body
she smelt her insides and found the smells of the wood she was made of,
surprised that after all this time the odour could be so strong
she felt the marks that had accumulated over the years;
marks of childhood
of travel
of experience

and for maybe the first time, she felt grateful just to be

– she