Trish Delaney – Mottephobia

Poet-100x100Trish Delaney is originally from Wexford but currently lives in Dublin where she works in programmatic ad operations for an Irish advertising agency. She writes her poetry as an escape from the world of maths and calculations that dominate her working day. Some of her previous work has been published in Skylight 47,, Oddball Magazine and as poem of the week on


First you feel them writhe
as they feed in your sleep:
peccadilloes furrowing —
wriggling through the mind’s
mire, burrowing deeper
every night…until
they metamorphose,

A sensory deluge of hair,
dust, and scales
flutters, — no strikes —
at the back of your throat
and can’t be coughed away.
You’ll wake from choking
on their powdery residue.

You drink your coffee so strong
that you’re sick—smoke
your scut-bitten nails yellow,
and keep a candle lighted
to burn them wing by wing.
Tonight’s fight is over but
you still can’t shake their taste.

Don’t look in the mirror
while you brush your teeth.
Daylight isn’t all it seems;
something twitches in your optic nerves
controlling your every blink:
it’s the moths flitting back and forth
puncturing the darkness of your pupils…

that’s how they escape your dreams

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