Stacie Withers

stacie withers
Journals from Stacie
Stacie Withers began writing so she could be like her idol, Lynda Day. When this showed itself to be the pipe dream it had been all along, she switched to poetry, because it's good for the digestion. Stacie says she writes, mainly, so she doesn't have to talk to people. Her work often focuses on themes of decay and the passage of time, although her experiences of motherhood have also influenced her work over recent years, and she explores the implications of each of these ideas within her poetry, short fiction and blogging.

She lives in the Wiltshire countryside and eats far too many biscuits.

Music from Stacie

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Words from Stacie
  • Notes On The Journey Home

    Written on 30/09/10

    I mark my place in my book with the business card of the shop it came from. The bus station is like a long, concrete wind tunnel and I tug the zip of my jacket up to my chin. The young man,... read more

  • I Can Be Heroes.

    Written on 05/02/10

    In the damned poets darkness, the place we are gathered after all the pens run dry and words that once fell from us have ceased to have meaning, life or flight, I wonder if I shall... read more

  • Spawn

    Written on 27/01/10

    As if wishing made it so, a sentient creature built of flesh and arrogant misunderstanding of my own ability, invaded my rainbow solitude. A lion, with a roar that halted all hopes... read more

  • The Morning After The Night Before

    Written on 27/01/10

    So I guess you want to talk to me, to get things straighten out. But can I just explain myself, before you start to shout? I wish I hadn’t kissed that guy. I... read more

  • Moost

    Written on 27/01/10

    As grief for the life not lived passes, and momentarily tempts her to stay, he misunderstands her ambivalence and thinks she never meant any of the many words. But she hasn’t been... read more

  • Chinese Whispers

    Written on 27/01/10

    Silver tongue cut and bloody, lifting up words of no regret or meaning. Moving through the littered streets of a town they used to own, your... read more