This girl is all I am – Candice Louisa Daquin


There is a secret at the back of my throat

a black tulip

that won’t swallow

the ash of memories

I was you see, a girl of damage and plums

you could see the embers beneath my eyes

like eighties makeup and Adam Ant

I was no prince charming

but the girl who played the piano with her eyes shut

because she could not read music

nor find her way to release

I see photos of girls who could have been me

with fresh skin and dimples

they can join groups and do things in harmony

smile for the camera, bow for the priest

whilst I shunned the age of innocence

or it devoured me

spitting out my infernal seeds

to scatter beyond my picking

how to climb mountains with minions

take a picture?

or smile in the collective conscience

when the stamp is already affixed

blood drawn

waiting for its testing

I can already tell you

it will be infected

with the grief that stayed and did not go

so when you ask me

why don’t you have photos of when you were younger?

why don’t you feature in group shots?

how come you don’t possess family and friends in abundance?

or even handfuls

I point wordlessly

to a girl in the past

licking darkness from her fingers

I say without a tongue

this is who she becomes

this girl is all I am

if it is not enough for you I understand

if you need someone who will radiate and take you

mountaineering and socializing

do not choose her

she has only the will of this moment

she is not a joiner not one of the crowd

but if you let her

precisely because of this

she will be everything


Everything you will never understand

I’ve wished for a thousand times

A non-believer

Praying to be filled with what I know not

And emptied of the same


Released from delirium

The moon, the sun and the stars

Have tired of my voice

So I turn to the earth

She births hope

Cradles death

Panacea prophecy

Dappled in divine dust

Washed in worshiper’s waters

Encircled in stones

Sacred self-shrine

Altar of alchemy

Save me

Give credence to this


Deemed light

Despite gravity

I sing my burdened ballad

Out of the night

Out of sight

Out of breath

Out of desire

Out of desperation


Soothes and saddens

Golden grass left untended

Pretends to be the sea

Each breeze rippling waves

Of amber


As I grow smaller

Pluck the last


Wished away

Into the gray


(Image from Tumblr)

1Wise-Woman: “I am living, fighting, and thriving with mental illness and chronic disease and a need to express myself. Writing eases some of the weight I carry.” When she isn’t yanking shadowy strands of leathery clumps of unconscious, and tenderly placing them into word documents, she is creating at A Lion Sleeps in the Heart of the Brave.