Averil Hart
who died as a result of failures by
University of East Anglia
Averil's Words
Averil had written the poem 'I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)' by E.E. Cummings on the inside of her wardrobe, and was found later found by Averil's father, Nic, following her death.
Averil wrote in a letter to her aunt the following passage:
​
I once wrote a poem in school that said, "Love is realising your insignificance in the world and thriving upon it." The teacher underlined 'insignificance' and put a cross. I meant insignificance. It's as if I've realised I might as well enjoy every single day I have on this earth, because I really am just a tiny part of something far bigger than me. Does that make any sense? Perhaps not, but it's giving me a lot of strength and a whole new perspective on my life and my actions and even my illness.​
"Her Body Bleeds Beauty,
Mine Wasted Time"
Published in "Underworld", a UEA anthology.
​
For this, I’ll risk injustice
I’ll take the seven days you gave
And whisper obscenities until they turn round
And longing, look for you.
Well then I will judge that changing tide
And taste its painful shore,
As you cull the better of men and manufacture their ideas.
‘Am I yours and yours alone?’
As she strips the blood stained sheets
From under his bulk and shuns the one who shows the Justice Figure.
You take the eyes from out of my heart and then try to tell me it’s not real.
For it’s been six months and countless corners
per favore di portare il mio respiro
I tread for the broken, you for the damaged
And those papers will surely bleed because her scent,
It drips oceans.
Look up, scream, ‘where do I sign?’.
I’ll rip at the hands to turn back and show before
And then let me see the Sweetpeas you gave.
Tell me you didn’t understand the meaning.
Tell these twenty-four years you didn’t understand the meaning.
He made us from your bones and dust.
And dust is left as the bones are stripped and polished and claimed.
I owe you nothing but the dimples in their cheeks and the loss of my womb.
And still your tender was calculated.
Now go on, calculate this.
I’ll ask for one final thing, vows pushed aside.
Simply scrape me from that litigation and bake until golden.
My body was bred, breath, eyes straight ahead.
Be kind, la separazione è dolore così dolce,
Look up, scream, ‘kiss mumma’ goodbye’.
Look up, scream,
Per favore
Goodbye
Untitled
Written while at Addenbrooke's S3 ward:
​
They sell me the fact that I am somebody's sun,
Well then I'm burning up and this ozone hole is my fault
This low zone, the gap in your sphere, here, is my fault.
If I am somebody's sun then don't get too close,
My dear I will scorch your senses, with a touch, my love,
Will melt your tired eyes, keep you warm, draw you in,
give you life lines
Who's to say that It's all lies.
As I am somebody's sun, then I'll tell you when your day is done,
I'll take back my light, hush child, don't fight,
I'll make your cells multiply at a rapid rate. Hurry darling,
two thousand and twelve won't come late.
And when I became somebody's sun,
I told Eos to live under my thumb, hide in my nail,
yes she may yearn for men,
But I'll wed envious Selene, wolf howl and hide
her sister in a Badger's den.
If I am somebody's sun, the tourists to my Earth,
well, they can only run
For shadows they always haunt, and that parched skin,
those cracked skulls,
Somalia, Nepal I'll make even your children's ghosts gaunt.
Make me be somebody's sun and I'll shake the demon
from out of your nose,
Windows close, bless your soul and wipe sweat from
your pores as your breasts and forehead grow
Face always towards the sky, palms down
as if then your first born won't die.