A teenage party on a summer night –
a house packed with friends 
and gatecrashers, music escaping 
through open windows, lights spinning
and spilling across the garden.

We sit on an old chest freezer
on the grass, passing a bottle of vodka
between us, trying to predict the future, 
when we’ll leave school or home – 
how desperate she is to leave both.

She takes another swig of vodka, 
shifts closer, tells me about a dark shape 
that’s been swimming along behind her 
for years – how close it has come 
to dragging her under.

And the smooth white lid creaks and tilts, 
and the freezer is an iceberg floating 
in cold black water – turning, cracking,  
and nothing I can say or do 
will stop it breaking.

In 2024, Thea Smiley’s poems were shortlisted for The Frogmore Prize and the Second Light competition. Her work has previously been shortlisted for the Bridport Prize, the Live Canon Collection competition, longlisted in the Rialto Nature and Place competition, and published in magazines and anthologies. Thea was recently a runner up in the Metro Poetry Competition.