Poems by Ashley Groves
The Wound That Never Heals (2017). Printed cotton gauze. A Collaboration between Ashley Groves and Fiona Legg.
'Quiet Things No One Ever Knew' (2017). Headboard, stickers. 56" x 60" x 4". A collaboration between Ashley Groves and Fiona Legg.
Quiet Things No One Ever Knew
Secrets lie beneath the surface
she screams inside without a purpose
Lost in the dark she crawls into battle
she will not be rattled
Broken and bruised she raises her sword
Inside the silence she roars, this time she will
not be ignored
'Revulsion: Inside and Out'. (2017). Handmade dress (size 3), hanger, tshirt, paint. 19" x 24" x 2". A collaboration between Ashley Groves and Fiona Legg.
Quiet Things No One Ever Knew
There she sleeps in silent slumber
Peaceful now her soul no longer screams
Ashes to ashes. Bone to bone
If only someone had of known
Porcelain pain she is no more
Tears the flesh from spirit to core
A collaborative project between Ashley Groves, author, and Fiona Legg, artist.
His and Hers
Her body trembles, hoping this will be the
His body convulses in sheer pleasure, he
is the sickest person she knows.
She looks up at him in disgust,
But once again, another thrust.
Her legs quiver, her small body lay lifeless
on the floor.
He does up his zipper and says 'stop
crying you whore'.
The blood slowly drips from her thighs, he
shows no remorse in his eyes.
She is barely even three, he is supposed
to be her daddy.
Warning: content may be upsetting to some.
Through My Tear Stained Eyes
All alone I sit and stare,
Wondering why you're not there.
Gutless, she whispers.....shhhh keep quiet or he will explode
"Don't upset the apple cart", her heart is so cold.
Like the sacrificial lamb heading to slaughter,
I opened my mouth to protect her, for I was her daughter.
I can hear her soul quiver, her body tremble with fear,
Frantically grasping for air, seemingly stuck in a snare.
My soul screams a warrior's cry,
But still my mother's eyes are dry.
The hunter cowardly circles his prey,
With on single lunge things will be fatal.
She plays with fire, neglecting my cradle.
I've lived a lifetime of shit and abuse,
But don't think I'm cryin the blues,
It was my neck that had on a coloured bruise,
I didn't think it was him that you'd choose.
And through all the trauma, you just stood there,
And you call yourself momma?
I'm over you, go cry to someone else,
I don't need your drama.
It's lonely and painful with no one to go to, isn't it?
Try being me as a child,
and all that I went through.
What you got was mild.
I'm glad it's not your shoes that I grew into.
If you could only see past your twisted view,
I could have a mother I'd be proud to look up to!
Don't look so doe-eyed, Ma!
This isn't news
You're not innocent, you were there,
Is that the life you wanted for your child?
Is that even fair?
My strength has come through for me yet again,
I can finally see my sorrow will end.
My road looks beautiful just around the bend.
It's you that has to live with your repulsive taste in men.
Copyright Fiona Legg Artist . All rights reserved.