Life isn’t all Sunshine

Sunshine by Melissa Lee-Houghton is the second poetry book I picked up secondhand from my local charity shop, purely because I wanted to read some more poetry.

Abuse, addiction and mental health are all topics present in this book, so be warned if those things are triggering to you. The poems can be quite dark at moments, but there are also many pieces which focus on brighter sides of life. Essentially, this collection encompasses the human life and the roller coaster which we all travel on.

This collection may be a little dark for some, but personally it was really nice to indulge in those darker thoughts and allow them to surface for a time and wade in them, as they are normally shoved down deep. This is something I think is good for many, to evaluate all thoughts which you have.

I’m glad that I picked this one up, and if I spot any more from this author I’ll pick it up in the future.

The perfect woman? A poetic analysis

Who Is Mary Sue? by Sophie Collins looks at the archetype of the perfect female often portrayed in media and how unrealistic this woman is within the real world. Another interpretation of a Mary Sue is when a woman writes out a character whom certain readers believe to be them simply trying to reinvent themselves within this fictional world. I picked this book up from my local British Heart Foundation charity shop as they’ve finally started selling poetry books!!

I liked the concept of this collection, however, I didn’t really connect with any of the individual poetry pieces which was a real shame. The poems all seemed very impersonal and non-connective with no real links making me feel like I can feel the authors emotions.

However, it is a very quick read and for this reason I suggest picking it up if the concept calls to you. Poetry is such a subjective art and can be interpreted so differently by the most similar of people, so I always feel that if the subject matter is of interest the poetry should be experienced first hand.

Let me know if you’ve read this collection or if you feel the same way about poetry being so personal and subjective!


“She never stops complaining” I hear them all say.

But they don’t know the truth, they don’t know what’s inside.

The hurt I can’t express, the pain, the emptiness.

It’s always there, never leaving.


The medication helps. It makes me “normal”. But “normal” is numb. “Normal” feels nothing.

Normal has no reason to do anything. She is empty. No pain, but no joy.

It took my lows, but captured my highs for itself. Took them where no one could see.

Especially not me.


I try to recapture the old me, surely feeling something is better than nothing.

I whine, I complain, I turn everything negative.


I can’t bring her back.


Do I want to?

I don’t want the soul crushing pain, the wish for it all to end.

I don’t want to hate every inch of my skin, my thoughts, my being.


I just want to feel…