Distance by Bethan Rees

There is a girl standing at the opposite side of the room and there is nothing but space between you.
Her face is a featureless skin canvas, a gaping black “O” in the centre. She screams silently but for some reason you can hear it. You can hear it. You try to call back to her, but the noise is stuck. Stuck behind skin. You reach for your face, it is smooth and featureless, a taut skin over where the gaping “O” of your mouth should be. Trying to desperately claw at it, it springs back like a hospital rubber glove. Tears well and pour over the mound of flesh, tasteless.

The room spins.

You are the girl standing at the opposite side of the room. There is nothing but space between you.
Your face is a featureless skin canvas, a gaping black “O” in the centre. “I am blind”, you scream silently.


Bethan Rees is fairly new to the poetry scene and has thoroughly enjoyed her time as a friend of Poetry Swindon, especially being asked to read her own work at The Swindonian Evening during the Swindon Festival of Literature. She is currently studying an MSc in Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes and hopes to travel workshops in the future. Although now living in Swindon, Bethan grew up in Neath, South Wales and spent some time living in South Dakota, USA. Her favourite things are words, nuzzes and her ancient dog, Mitzie.


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haunting and horrific poetry and fiction since 2017

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