Except happy.

I'm forgetting what it was like before.
Who I was, how played my mind.
I have flashes, brief clips of memories,
But they're getting harder to find.
I even sometimes wonder,
If they are even real,
And not an image I projected,
To cover the 'really feel'.
In the time of statutory reflection,
In the time of look ahead,
I'm stuck for what to aim for,
Except happy, healthy and not dead.

Gist.

I have no idea if you think this is normal.
I have no idea if you think this makes sense.
Whether this sort of life is light for you,
Whereas for me, it's heavy, dense.
I feel a cloak, a thickening mist,
And I have no idea whether you get the gist,
Of the things I do and do not say,
Because I'm always here.  I always stay.

Easier apart.

These are the days that warm my heart.
They shouldn't, because we're really apart.
It's that these are the days that bring less stress.
I'm happy, relaxed.  My head's not a mess.
These are the days where you can't disappoint.
We can flutter through moments without needing a point.
We can laugh and have fun, do it just for the joy.
There's no one to displease, no one to annoy.
The love is there, deep ingrained in the heart,
But I can't help feel it's easier apart.

Impasse.

Impasse.
Our always,
Our every days.

We have floated,
Or driven, So far apart,
I question if that was us at start.

We see such different a view.
It's like we truly don't get,
Why we feel what we do.

We are silent in slow burning anger.
Polite through the things we should say,
And so we are moving, constantly moving,
Further and further, and further, away.

Heart shade.

I do not like that I am suspicious.
I do not like that I quick jump to blame,
But following another encounter,
I find us here again.

I question your intentions,
I question your heart, and its shade,
And as I do so, I question myself.
So self belief, and self love, tend to fade.

I need time with people who shine,
I need me the people who glow,
I need the people who love me,
So the right path can, once again, show.

Happiness thief.

The kind of day that typifies.
You probably see it in my eyes.
I do my best to keep it in,
As I ride this train with my head full spin.
As the outsider, dangling on the edge,
Though you undoubtedly see me as the wedge,
I stare, sometimes in disbelief,
At things you've said.  The happiness thief.

When things are running smoothly,
And I begin to breathe, relax,
You toss in a word or two of meanness,
Like a Viking throwing axe.
Then they pick up on the comments,
And their hackles then are raised,
So more bitter words are spoken,
And its a choking negative haze.

The fog encompasses everything,
And it's no longer fun.
So I hold my breath and impatiently wait,
Until you've finally gone.

I'll live.

Inside the box of frozen walls,
I sit and watch as the temperature falls.
Inside this box, I helped create,
I feel the simmering vibes, the hate.
I thought what I wanted was something plain,
Something small, expected.  I need not explain.
Turns out, it's something you cannot give,
So to keep her close, this is the way I'll live.

I knead and fold.

It is for you.
All for you.
It would look,
So much different,
If not for you.

It's not what I want for you,
But the best I can do,
Right now, in this moment,
Til it's better,
Til true.

What I continue to do,
Is for us, is for you.
I cling and I mould,
What we have, I knead, fold.
I try and be the glue.

For you.
All for you.  

Godparent.

I smiled, when I read your words.  
I went giddy, like a child.
A magic beam lit up my face,
And am sure my eyes went wild.

I felt a pride I haven't felt,
In such a long and tiring while,
The fire rose in my stomach,
And I grew the biggest smile.

I am proud, yet also grateful,
That you would think of me.
I'll take the honour seriously,
And be the best that I can be.

Cog in a wheel.

If all days were like today,
Happier I'd be.
If all days were as close as this,
Easier it would be.
This day in midst of all the others,
One day in midst of fog,
Would give me the chance,
To share the wheel,
To relax in being just cog.

Learning to share.

That you miss out,
Do without,
Have to leave,
Or are left behind,
Fractures my heart a little,
I know it's best,
But I'm the worrying kind.

That the tears came,
Once again,
Floods broke,
As forced to go,
Fractures my heart a little more,
Because I want you always,
To remember the glow.

That you clung to another,
Not your mother,
Smiles returning,
It made better.
Fractures my heart one more time,
Because, in truth, I feel,
That job is mine.

I am grateful to them,
Grateful they care,
But when it comes to your love,
I'm still learning to share.

Let it go.

I didn't need to see his face,
To know,
That he did not like,
The way you spoke.

I didn't need to see his face,
To know,
That he did not like,
That I let it go.

Festive

When the festive season,
Seems more like a chore,
Take a deep breath,
And love it more.
Remember it isn't,
About you,
It's about the love you feel,
And how it's the glue,
That helps to keep,
Tired things together.
As you hope that this chore,
Will last forever.

Gulf.

I see the gulf
I feel the chasm,
I register others do too.
We can be ourselves with others,
But are stilted as me and you.
The air is stale,
With a hint of frost,
However much love was inside.
You cannot talk of feelings.
I need to, so you run and hide.

Should be.

When I see that smile,
Brighter, crazier,
With eyes glowing,
With true joy,
I am grateful for them

When I hear her laughter spill,
In tuneful waterfall,
Through the house,
That should be home,
I am grateful for them.

It just doesn't last.
It is so brief,
And she drops so suddenly,
From her glorious height,
That it leaves scars.

Confused,
Rejected.
In the house,
That should be home.
Yet she is grateful for them.

Burning rubber.

It seems never ending,
The tunnel we chose.
We are stuck.
The wheels are spinning,
But the rubber is burning.
I've stopped seeing the return.
I've stopped seeing our light.
I sometimes cry for us,
In the dark of the night.

Isolate and recuperate.

One thing, then two things,
Three things, four,
Leave me wanting,
To close our door.
Isolate, recuperate
Stop them getting in.
Wait until patience is restored,
Even if thin.
One thing, then two things,
Three things, four.
I once had higher resilience,
But I'm changed now, and to the core.

That smile.

However hard the day,
You are always the highlight.
However hard you make it,
You are always the reason.
It is worth it,
However hard the day,
Because of you,
Because of that smile.

Ripped.

I am torn.
I do not like that this is your life.

I do not like that this is your life,
But I cannot stop myself feeling,
A warmth,
From the fact that I am not alone.

Understand.

I understand you,
In the sense that I know you.
Perhaps too well.
I recognise,
The things you will do,
The things you will say,
And those you will not.
I just struggle,
To understand.
How could you?
Why would you?
Why would you not?

Dulled spark.

I sit in my corner,
I look at your faces.
Lifetimes ago,
And different places.
I don't know your struggles,
You didn't get to know mine,
Were they the same,
In just a different time.
I want to go back,
To the girl you knew,
When the hope was high,
And the years were few.
I want to be the person,
You were proud to know.
I remember how a look,
Could make me glow.
How a look,
Could make me smile,
Instead of want to run a mile.
The pride in your eyes,
Showed the love in your heart,
In my memory forever,
Though Iife's dulled my spark.

Crossed fingers.

If it were only like this,
All the time,
I'd be more at peace,
And that must be a sign?
Yet it wouldn't be like this,
If it were to end,
Just different battles,
With which to contend.
So I plant my feet firmly,
Though sway where I stand,
I take a deep breath,
And cross fingers on hand.

On trial.

When you give me that look,
Say, "Its all in your head",
That's when I feel,
That our love is dead.
That look of distaste,
That sneer of denial,
When expressing my feelings,
Is my heart put on trial.

Grey self.

I had a moment of envy.
Watching that snippet,
That flicker of your life.
Then I remember,
You would probably swop,
And that cuts me like a knife.
So whilst you live a life of joy,
And I drag my grey self on,
I will focus on my blessings,
And try to be as strong.

A little less blue.

A day outside the normal spin,
A necessity as your ills set in,
But it takes us back,
To a simpler time,
When the pattern of the day,
Was yours and mine.
It's actually helped me more than you,
It feels like a dab of restorative glue.
To take things just as they present,
Instead of the rush I do lament,
To have you close, and enjoy it too
The colour of life is now a little less blue.

In my mire.

When I am drowning in my troubles,
I'm not the friend I want to be.
I try to be there for you,
But end up talking me.
I want people to understand,
That I understand their pain,
But I get lost in my mire,
And it's poor old me, again.
Whilst you're drowning in your troubles,
And you need me to be a friend.
Just remember I am trying,
And I'll get there in the end.

Relaying.

My darling girl,
Your eyes of blue,
Are relaying truths,
And betraying you.

That way.

I cannot be,
The same person I was,
Not when knowing,
You are nothing like,
The person you were.
There cannot have only,
Been change in one of us.
Life does not work that way.

Wonder.

I take a deep breath and I wonder,
If it's me or them.
If what I imagine,
The idealistic image,
Would not be so,
Regardless.
That I should halt my sadness,
My dreaming mind,
And take the gold dust in the dirt.
Yet I ache for her.
Ache when it isn't what I'd want it to be.
When it's less than what she deserves.
I take a deep breath and I wonder,
If this is how it's meant to be,
To make her who's she's meant to be.
I take a deep breath and I wonder.

No pause.

The days get harder,
And I am becoming lost in them,
In the never ending of them,
In the no pause, no time, of them.

The days get harder,
But her heart seems sweeter,
Her words get deeper,
Bestowing moments I can cling to.

I cling to them,
As she clings to me for comfort.
I cling to them,
Until we are floating again.

Make it better.

Some days are like this,
Tiny trial by trial,
One step forward,
Twelve steps back,
The longest, tiring, mile.

On the harder days like this,
With exhaustion high,
I hear your words,
Feel your tender touch,
Hold the look that's in your eye.

I was sad, you say.
As you speak, your eyes get wetter.
I needed you,
I wanted you,
Because your hugs make it better.

Yesterday's worries.

When yesterday's worries,
Get lost in today's fires,
It leaves something hanging,
In the back of your mind.
Gone,
Sort of,
Kind of,
but not really.
Gone,
Sort of,
Kind of,
But not resolved.
When yesterday's worries,
Get lost in today's fires,
It leaves something hanging,
In the back of your mind.

Pain relief.

I worry for your safety.
I worry for your heart.
It feels as if the soul I love,
Is being torn apart.

I hate how you can't tell me,
Or don't know what to say,
I want to know the truth,
And take any pain away.

Bud.

It pulls at my insides,

To think of you like that.  

To think of you as mean,

A player of tit for tat.  

I want your soul to glow.  

I want you to work for good.  

I want your heart to blossom,

Not to shrivel at the bud.  

So I'll try my best, my hardest,

To guide you through the maze,

To balance pride with disappointment,

And love you all the days.  

The glares.

There are glimpses,
And I don't know how to deal with them.
I question,
Whether to lean in,
But I can't,
Because there are the glares.

Because there are glares,
I walk on past the glimpses,
With trepidation,
With distrust,
And choose,
To protect myself instead.

I may be throwing what I have to the wind,
But I can not bring myself to hug the cactus.

Pull at pieces.

Put today away,
In the corner,
In the dark.
Pull at pieces,
Gently, cautiously,
When I'm ready.
When I can consider them,
One at a time.

You happy.

In another day,
Where there was no let up,
Of little,
And medium,
Things,
Going wrong,
There was you,
Asking me to squeeze you again,
Because that makes you happy.  

Truly hope.

In my mind I've...
Even now...
I can't.
It's too much.
Too hard,
To put words together,
When my head,
And heart,
Maybe soul,
Is spinning.
Reaching out for something,
To cling to.
As you reached for me.
I hope,
Truly hope,
I did not let you down.

Ignition

Something fired in me yesterday.
No less polite,
But a little less apology.
A little more conviction,
More determination.
Have I not been fighting,
These last three years.
Why give up now,
On something so important.
The only settling will be after striving.
My wish for you, is my ignition.

The dance

Watching your mind spin,
Watching your heart burn,
There is nothing I wouldn't do,
Including be the 'earn'.

It made it so much clearer.
I want to up your chance.
What's the point in doing this,
If it's a chore and not a dance.

Chores.

I watch as your eyes refocus.
I'm unsure if you are trying to hide it,
And are oblivious to its obvious,
Or whether it is an unsubtle hint.

I carry on, regardless,
Because then you are aware,
And my chore is done.
I'm just sad that it's a chore.

Notes from the past.

I don't know why they hit me like they did.
I've lived this.
I know where we were.
I know where we are now.
I know the journey,
I know the distance between.
It just did.
It hurt.
Perhaps worse, it made me wonder.

Home made gift.

I don't know what I imagined,
But I didn't imagine this.
I suppose I thought some troubles,
But moments of warmth, of bliss.
I must have hoped for that image.
I must have wanted that lift.
Perhaps, although putting the work in,
I built the wrong home-made gift.

Fifteen minutes.

I love our chats before you fall asleep.
You try so hard to stay awake,
With question after question.
You don't really care for the answers,
You just don't want me to leave.
My heart, already skewed with my love for you,
Swells just that little more,
And fills the cracks from the broken pieces,
For a pure, warming, empowering,
Fifteen minutes.

Melt

When I started to think,
About what I would write,
The look in your face,
Was first in my sight.
The pull in your mouth,
The spite behind words,
But I've promised myself,
Not to be so absurd,
As to give you the strength,
To give you power,
To get in to my head,
And have my day to sour.
So I'll honour my feelings,
And write as I felt,
But consider it cleansed,
And that judgement can melt.

Talk

You were not expected.
You were not wanted.
Yet you made me feel a little more alive.
Just talking to someone who wants to listen.
Just talk.

Splintered

My mind has been splintered today,
So many things to do and say.
I haven't felt like me at all,
Like a shadow of me, on a spinning ball.
Your words tonight, they brought me home,
"Don't go just now, it will make me alone..."
Whatever this life, even if not what expected,
It's about you feeling the love, and never rejected.

My time.

I had two and a half hours,
Then two, then one.
I've half an hour left.
Where has my time gone?
I had this long list.
I had all these to-do's.
It's not like I lay there relaxing,
Or taking a much needed snooze.
I had two and a half hours,
Then two, then one.
I've half an hour left.
Where has my time gone?

Between us.

I survey my space.
So many ideas.
In days gone by,
I would have used the spark,
Moved furniture,
Painted walls,
And kept going,
Until all energy was gone.
It isn't like that any more.

I survey the space.
So many ideas,
That require a second thought,
Planning.
It can't all stop for me.
Anymore.
Then I realise,
That's the difference,
Between us.

Click

You hope things will change. 

You hope they will 'click'. 

That there will be a moment,

When it all starts to make sense again.

 

You hope that one day,

It will be easier.  

It will flow.  

It seems like it has been ebbing,

For so long.  

You are exhausted treading water,

But keep finding just enough,

In reserve, 

Not to give in. 

Because it's not about you,

Anymore.   

You hope things will change. 

You hope they will 'click'. 

That there will be a moment,

When you truly start to smile again.

Your position

I do not believe in violence.
I do not believe in war.
I was not in your position.
I did not see just what you saw.
I do not believe in oppression.
I do not believe in tyranny.
I believe in good, honest, souls,
I believe we should all be free.
I believe in what they told me,
Of who, of what you were,
And I will forever honour you.
These are the thoughts your pictures stir.

Refuel.

You curled up in my arms tonight.
It's been a rough old day.
You wanted me to hold you close,
You had fear I would not stay.

You curled up in my arms tonight.
It squeezed hard on my heart,
I hate to see you sad, in pain,
But I must not fall apart.

You curled up in my arms tonight.
The privilege was mine,
But my power to halt the heavy sobs,
Now needs refuelling with wine.

In the back of your mind.

I could see the sadness in your eyes.
I could sense it in your gait.
I went to sweep you up in hug,
You told me it could wait.
For four hours I tried to subtly tempt,
From you what was wrong.
In the end you set if free,
In the midst of a lullaby song.
The boy was there,
And he was mean,
He shouted at you.
He will haunt a dream.
So I pull you close,
I hold your hand,
Tell you you're amazing,
And I understand.
Tomorrow you focus,
On the friends that are kind,
And forever keep our love,
In the back of your mind.

And you mine.

The light in your eyes when you see me,
Floors me every time.
I never want you to lose it.
I am forever yours, and you mine.

Early morning smile.

Today I saw a spark in you,
In that early morning smile,
A spark it dawned I haven't seen,
In quite a little while.
The guilt for not knowing,
That it could have, should have, been.

Guilt

I woke,
From a dream,
Where I was happy,
And loved.

I woke,
From the dream,
And felt guilt.

I am awake,
At least.
At last.

The glow.

From the glow in your eyes,
I know my response.
Against my better judgement,
I will say yes.

I will say yes,
Because it brings you joy.
I can not take for granted,
Nor waste, such light.

At all.

He played the switch again today.
How expertly he twists it.
I saw it clear. Is that progress?
So many years, I missed it.
The look of hurt, of wounded soul.
As if it was not what he meant at all.

It comes without apology.
It comes just to set his burden free.
It comes to wrack your heart with guilt.
Mine already clogged with his emotional silt.

He played the switch again today.
How expertly he twists it.
I saw it clear, but still felt guilt.
The untainted heart, I miss it.
The gift of guilt, of damaged soul.
As if it was not what he meant at all.

So are you

I want to reach out and hold your hand.
I can't, but want you to understand.
Though there is distance between us.
And circumstance prevents travel,
I will be me, and write,
Let out thoughts unravel.

I'll say some right things, hopefully
And some wrong things, suredly,
But I am here,
You're not alone.
I'm the glowing light,
On your mobile phone.

You have this, I know it.
No fairy tale is all good.
No journey is all easy,
But on solid ground you're stood.

It's tough, but hold on,
Its just a tough time.
You're tough, you're strong,
You'll craft your lifetime.

One step, next step, with tears or none,
One day soon, this challenge will be gone.

You will breathe deep,
And really smile,
You will look back,
At this long hard mile,
And know it was worth it.
Trite but true.
The time will be worth it,
And so are you.

Great love

I expected a great love...
The words were not mine,
But left a scratch on my heart
That won't leave me with time.

Expected a great love?
I don't believe I ever had,
So for a moment, I paused,
And embraced the sad.

My life is of moments,
No grand fairy story,
No happily ever afters,
No basking in glory.

Yet, though 'true love'
Does not ring true.
It does not mean,
That I don't love you

Hope and fear

I am the strangest mix of hope and fear.
I am new to the place we stand right here.
I expected a reaction I knew, and didn't get.
So I fear it worse and just not yet.
If it doesn't come, what does that mean?
It is that this encourages hope in dream.

After we have parted.

There is never real joy,
In the days you're there.
Not for me.
Everything feels tarnished,
No matter how much you smile.

I have lost,
Whatever trust there may have been.
I am anxious in your presence,
And I carry it with me,
For hours after we have parted.

Focusing on giving

The words of a stranger hit home today.
I took his words and made them mine.
Not in plagiarism, not in rhyme.

I simply saw myself in his words.
Words he did not speak for me,
But nevertheless they spoke to me.

I saw how I have been feeling, and living,
Through an old mans view on life.
They were beautiful, true, and cut like a knife.

They pared away the guilt I've felt,
For how I've been feeling and living.
Closing my eyes to loss, and focusing on giving.

Not in spirit.

Part of me wanted to hide today.
To shut myself in a warm, dimly lit corner,
And just be me.
Me without interruption.
Me without questions,
Without other people's looks,
Just me.
To sup, taste, read, breathe and be.
Instead,
I did what I always do.
I was there in body,
Moving, responding,
Anticipating, preparing, reacting.
Not in spirit.

Not in spirit.

When I am tired.

When I am tired,
You are too much,
For my brain to concentrate,
On the things on which,
My brain should concentrate.
There are mistakes.
There is frustration,
And it all feels,
Ever so much harder.
Like the dripping tap,
Or the barking dog,
Your enthusiasm,
Peppers my mental frame,
With armour piercing bullets.
As you shatter my calm,
So I taint your joy,
And that gnaws at me.
That pains me.
I am not who I want to be for you,
When I am tired.

Back on the wheel

I walked the block today.
Just to not move on to the next thing.
For a brief respite from the list.
Five minutes, or less, of childish freedom.
Autumn leaves crunched underfoot.
Cold wind threatened my hat.
I stared at buildings.
I took deep breaths.
I smiled at strangers.
Then I was back at the car.
Back on the wheel.

Predictable

I suspected.
I did not know.
You are predictable.
Though you say, not so.
Random aspects,
All, you say.
But the pattern,
Gives the game away.

My bird flies home.

I'm looking at you.
Where does the time go?
On taking us there,
The to and the fro.

On rushing you ready,
You grumble, I moan.
On shopping and chores,
In moments alone.

On cleaning and washing,
Wiping and feeding,
Through precious moments,
We are now blindly speeding.

I miss our time,
Holding hands as we walked,
The giggles, the smiles,
Lighting eyes as we talked.

So I cherish in the moments,
You still curl in to me.
When my bird flies home,
And sets my heart free.

Vent

I vented.
A vent I had not intended.
Still I vented.
Who knows what damage it did,
What it might have eroded,
But it cleared my space.
It allowed fresh air,
To pass through my soul,
Even if only for a second.
I took a deep breath,
Of air not poisoned.
It tasted fresher, cleaner.
I vented,
Because I resented.

Who you need me to be.

My heart aches when you cry.
A pain in my chest.
A burn in my core.
When the tears can't be controlled,
When the agony is so very real,
I am changed.
I am not who I want to be.
It has to be enough that I am,
Who you need me to be.

Chipping gloss

I am grateful for the little things,
Because they feel like the little wins,
In the everyday of gradual loss.
The tiny chipping of whatever gloss,
Clung on tight through acid times,
To a heart that grew in warmer climes.
Like a flower turning for the light,
I will use these 'wins' to sustain my fight.

Bone tired

I tried to write this eve,

Tried to explain. 

How tired. 

So very tired, 

And worst of all,

The impact. 

No patience. 

Desperately wanting silence,

Peace. 

Instead, there is,

Simmering frustration,

Simmering fire.  

Depleted concentration.  

Close my eyes. 

Drink my wine. 

Pretend I am elsewhere.  

Dream I am elsewhere.  

My back

Today it felt,
Like,
Someone had my back,
Saw me,
Was listening.

Someone's eyes,
Weren't glazing over,
Whenever I droned on,
Released it all,
Again.

The smallest of things,
And so easy to do,
Yet the greatest of effects,
Because the listening was there,
Then thought and action.

They were for her,
But it felt like,
They were for me,
Because someone listened,
And wanted to help.

Permanently altered.

You are my living proof,
That it matters,
Who you surround yourself with.
Not for a day,
Perhaps not even for a month,
But over time.
One day,
You realise you have changed.
You have been worn,
Tired,
Manipulated,
Twisted, and
Permanently altered.

Their beat

Today I felt the cold,
The biting, icy chill.
The rain from dark grey clouds,
Yet I wanted time be still.
I wanted hibernation,
To grab you, pull you in,
To hide away, warm, from it all,
So I took life on the chin.

Today was a day,
Where I missed our past.
Where we our lived life,
At our speed, not fast.
We moved to our rhythm,
And not to theirs.
Where we had our choice,
And not their cares.

Where winter days,
Could be in front of the fire,
Could be in from the cold,
And plenty drier.
They could be outside,
But at a time of our choosing.
Now we move to their beat,
And today felt like we're losing.

You deserve braver

When I seek your approval,
Try to please you,
I briefly hate myself.
The cheapest see-through.

I hate that my confidence,
In the choices I make,
Falls at your feet.
I crumble in your quake.

It seems there's a type,
That I cannot dismiss,
Cannot ignore,
And in that, I'm remiss.

You deserve more,
You deserve braver.
I must stand my ground.
I must not waver.

Being as strong in my conviction,
As I am in my belief,
Could also earn back pride in myself,
And give my soul relief.

Since noon

You've been in my arms,
Or lain on my chest,
Since noon.
Perhaps half past, at best.

Your beating heart,
The deeper breathing,
Higher temperature,
Driven by virus seething.

I have often longed for quieter days
Where I can sit and rest,
But they are not worth your illness,
To that I can attest.

The happiest of dreams, my love.
Let them fight how you were feeling.
I see smiles now stirring here and there,
So may rest be your quick healing,

Today

Today has me questioning,
On what we judge ourselves.
Like variant products,
On supermarket shelves.

Friends from before,
Have little patience and time,
For who I've become.
And the life that's now mine.

No respect for the choices,
The challenges and fear.
Why 'she' lives her life,
Because of what 'she' holds dear.

Friends from afterwards,
Are considerate and kind,
Supportive, and caring.
To the old me, they're blind.

For what I bring to their life,
The person they see,
They say they are grateful,
And so proud to love me.

There are more from before,
And less from the after.
The first break my heart,
The latter fix it with laughter.

Roll of the dice

It got me today.
I don't know why.
We've had worse,
But this was such a surprise.
Your pain, your screams,
The fact you hid it.
That we don't know,
Just what did it.
Contact allergies,
Scare me the most.
Did you lean over a table?
Did you rest on a post?
The food is something,
That I can control,
But the world is the scariest,
Dice we must roll.

How rare that is

It is at times like these,
That I miss you.
I miss that safety,
The person I could go to,
To simply breathe.

I was rejuvenated,
In your presence,
Through your love.
I just didn't realise,
How rare that is.

I wait upon

I wait upon your response,
Knowing I've been here before.
Knowing I asked you kindly,
And told you it made my heart sore.

You infamous lack of a memory,
That fails as it suits once again,
You face will spark of hurt pride,
Yet it will not acknowledge the shame.

Just because

Just because you do not know me,
After all these years,
After all those moments,
And the bucket loads of tears,
Doesn't mean that I don't know you,
Those looks, those words, the games
I know the things you do not say,
And I carry all those shames.

Wise before her years

"You're smiling again."
She spoke with glee.
She looks in my eyes.
She looks for me.

"You were sad." I say.
It prompts a frown,
Upon her face.
It draws me down.

"I love you. I'm sad,
When you're in pain.
But you're Ok now?
So, I smile again."

She studies my face,
But really my heart,
Takes a pause,
Then let's her lips part.

She smiles with her lips,
She smiles with her eyes,
She hugs me close.
How is she so wise?

Fire in your belly.

I know that look,
I know that face,
I know just what it means.
I am not ready,
For fire in your belly,
As strong as it now seems.

Bites

"You,
Don't need to keep on,
Reminding me",
Bites,
The man,
Who regularly forgets.

You are my fear

I fear for you.
It is ever present.
Fluctuating,
But constant.
You are my fear,
Because you are my love,
My child.

Than they deserve.

It feels like my world has changed. 

That my world, my precious world,

Is in a more precarious position. 

Your heart stutters a little, 

The moment it's confirmed,

That your life is never completely yours,

Nor is it under your control. 

The world is designed,

For others,

To have a greater influence,

Than we would like,

Than they deserve. 

Subtle shifts

I recognise the behaviour,
The subtle shifts,
So now doubt the words said,
And look for those not.
I fear tomorrow,
And the unsaid truth

Ground

I was flying,
Then I hit the ground.
Silently,
Devoid of sound.
No one knew,
Heard or saw.
I had exited,
Through the kitchen door.
I took a moment,
A quiet, brief pause,
To reflect on the painful cause.
Then another moment,
To remember flight,
And bask in the joy,
That made me light.

Competitive

You challenge me,

In everything you do and say. 

Each look is your desire,

To justify yourself. 

The friendship you offer,

Is tainted by your need.

Your need to surpass me. 

Tears in the coffee

Some mornings,
There are tears in coffee.

Some mornings,
You just need a moment,
To let it leave.

To let it seep from the depth of your bones.
To allow some space,
Some space for the deep breath you must take,
The energy you will need to push forward.

Lament

I miss what might have been,
But don't regret the decision I made.

There

You are there,
Again.
At that time when it is needed.
At that time when my sand is shifting.
Do you sense,
Or do I pull for you?
Whatever.
You are there.

Tired

I just feel so damn tired,
And part of me knows why.
I can't stop.
Not at the moment,
Because if I stop,
I have to think,
And I'm not sure that thinking,
Is going to help me.
Can't even be sure,
That it won't make it worse.
I don't yet have the answers,
To my questions.

Unhappy

I could not understand,
Why people accepted unhappy,
Because it was created by love.
I did not understand,
Love.

There are days

There are days,
And there are days.
Today is one,
And I have suspicions,
That tomorrow will be,
Another.
So,
I pull up my big girl pants,
Take a deep breath,
A deeper drink of wine,
Just let it be,
And do me.

I am talking.

I am talking,
Because I'm trying.
I keep talking,
Because I keep trying.
I keep trying,
Because I don't want to be,
The one,
That stopped.

Complicated

I know that people think I try,

And avoid relationships,

Because of a fear I'm going to get hurt. 

To some degree, I guess that's true, 

But really it's that once you get involved with people,

Things become complicated,

And one way or another, 

Whether you want to or not, 

You always end up hurting someone else. 

Hurting some I love, 

Destroys me,

Piece by piece. 

Gossip

I was still tender,
And the thought,
That friends,
Were dissecting,
The rotting corpse of my life,
Breaking my trust for entertainment,
Hurt like hell.

Dictionary

Life is like writing your own dictionary.
Your experiences are those little explanations.
Each story, tale, adventure, gradually builds your book.
It authors you.
You only truly understand the meaning of words,
Once you've used them,
To describe what you did, saw, and the way it felt.

Gesture

It's not that I think that,
What I am giving you,
In return,
Is anywhere near,
The same quality,
As that you gave me.

It's a gesture.

You gave me a piece of you,
And I wanted to return the favour.
I wanted to give you a piece of me.
Please don't judge it,
Don't compare quality,
Just appreciate it for what it is.

A gesture.

Too

Sometimes,
The responsibility,
For someone else's life,
Is just too big.

When it's your own child?
It can feel just too,
Too,
Everything.

The only things,
To survive the moment,
Are hold tightly,
And breathe deeply.

Not a good combination

I just didn't realise that relationships can die,
Because you care too much. 

I gave myself away until there was barely anything left,

And at that point I wasn't enough for either of us. 

He became disappointed and I bitter.  

They are not a good combination.

Mousetrap

Step in to the mousetrap.
Be tempted by the cheese.
Be trapped by my vice like grip.
My sole aim's to please.

Accept capture in the spider's web.
In straps of silk be bound.
Surrender to my progress.
My desire is deep, profound.

Schadenfreude

When I said I forgave her,
She smiled.
I couldn't tell,
If it was borne of relief,
Or schadenfreude.
Just the briefest mental flash,
Of her maliciously,
Enjoying my pain,
Meant I would never trust,
Her again.

Undercurrent

I hear what you say,
And feel what you don't.

I see the movements your body makes,
As you react to me,
And what I have to tell.

I look at you,
Continue to smile,
Try to appease,
And feel sick inside.

Lunch hour

Laying in peace.
The state? Relaxation.
Away from the clutches,
Of watchful probation.
The sun, a glow,
Permeating a soul.
Rejuvenating where pressure,
Took its toll.
Allowing a moment,
In wild imagination.
Opening the door,
Desire infiltration.
Names and faces,
Seeping through.
The special ones,
The chosen few.
But then,
As the sunbeam dies,
And slowly opened,
Are the eyes,
The clock, full turn.
A sad realisation.
Calling the end,
Of quiet contemplation.

Denouement

I suspect that this may be,
The denouement of our relationship.
The plot has finally unravelled,
Even the audience is sending the curtain,
As they have begun to fidget in their seats.

Swimming

I long to swim in the depths of your mind,

And yet I am scared of the things I may find.

Would infinite knowledge be worth it, you see,

Knowing, with hate, your image of me. 

Why must situations also be so?

Where lust can never grab hold, must let go. 

Talks

I don't for one minute,
Believe I know,
All that went on in his life.
The way he didn't,
With me.
Yet we'd have those talks.
You know.
Those talks,
Where every so often,
You just need,
To get all your thoughts,
Out of your head,
And have someone you trust,
Listen.
For that sort of thing,
I trusted him.

Contingency plans

In my mind, 

Secretly,

I plan for the worst. 

Contingency planning,

For my fears,

So they don't seem as scary. 

That feeling in your stomach

There is no trust, only fear.
Knowing he's not really here.
Sometimes in body, but never in mind.
So I'm always anxious of what I will find.
What was once so close, is now so far.
I worry I'll learn how things really are.
His resting position is now so distant
I have to acknowledge we could be gone in an instant.
This fear eats away at my soul and heart,
And has me wondering if I would be happier apart.
It's not what I want, and would bring its own fears,
But what will be left if this goes on for years?

Confusion

Has she the capacity deep inside?

Is she covering the pieces she wants to hide?

Is life for her so much a pain,

That she never wants to join again?

I watch and it fractures my soul 

I now know there is no such thing as whole. 

Can't she understand she is grazing my heart,

By showing her deep desire to part?

It's not her choice, I must concede,

As I watch her confusion. I watch her need,

To understand the visions in her head. 

The recurring dreams she wants to shed. 

In her weary eyes, a gentle tear. 

Knowing true, he's no longer here. 

I know that pain, I miss him too,

But he wasn't half of me, as he was of you. 

Dreams

As I sit here thinking, 

Working through my dreams,

I comprehend the complexity,

Of the many flowing streams. 

Blessing, and yet cursing,

The wandering of my mind. 

Allowing me to see such sights. 

More peaceful to be blind,

To all that when contemplated,

Confuses and brings pain. 

Drenching me in sorrows,

A violent thrashing rain.

Yet even now, I understand,

My hunger and my need,

To fumble through my thoughts,

On which my soul does feed. 

Breath

The breath. 

The deep breath. 

Inhaling, exhaling. 

Betraying thoughts you tried to hide. 

The pause, 

To collect yourself. 

Thinking, assessing.  

Those looking, see that also. 

Clarity

Clarity from chaos, 

A false clarity. 

A slower way of seeing, thinking   

An extra second. 

You linger longer. 

The loss of quick reactions,

But you gain something else. 

An insight, deeper insight,

With the overhanging questions. 

Seeing a puzzle. 

Enjoying the challenge. 

Not fighting the slow, spreading, smile.

The widened eye view. 

Crash

Death is a state in to which you slide, 

A spiralling path, and you can not hide. 

It's a breaking heart, a terrifying scream,

A muffled sob, the end of a dream. 

Whenever it happens, whatever the cause,

Life must go on. Why the hell can't life pause?

Let me honour the dead,

Leave them clear in my head. 

I do not want to lose them, I always want them there. 

I can not bear the emptiness of my soul stripped bare. 

I never want to lose you, but things always seem to end,

So I'll cherish every moment of the times, as one, we spend. 

Epistolary friendships.

I can remember the feelings your letters evoked. 

I looked forward to receiving them,

With almost a childlike glee. 

Pleasure from knowing that you,

Deliberately took time out from your life,

To explain yourself to me. 

You wanted to, because you had to know about me. 

Perhaps you had to, because you wanted to know about me. 

Reaching out for the hand that was also outstretched. 

There was also a level of anxiety. 

This was the response to whatever I had written. 

Each letter was a reaction to me,

And the real me. 

A good writer.

I learned something,
Or admitted something,
About myself, the other day.
I will never make a good writer.
I can never truly describe a moment,
Because I cannot be honest.
I fear that one day,
Whatever I thought,
Will come back to hurt someone,
And haunt me.
If you can never tell the truth,
And cannot sensationalise a lie,
Then the story just isn't interesting.

Empty

Through the window, I watch.
The light draws me in.
I see as she mourns.
I cannot get in.
Empathy is impossible,
For I have been drained.
If I could feel, it would hurt.
I want to feel pained.
As I sit at his window,
As I watch life go by,
I think she is healing,
But there's no light in her eye.

Fear

Fear is an emotion pending,
Excited by the evil threatening.
Imagination running wild,
Brings fearful pictures to the mind.
A moonlit night, a shadowed place,
A figure or suspected face.
Imagination, growing stronger.
A need, to be there no longer.
Then the heart does beat much faster,
Controlling moves like a master.
The body it then picks up speed,
Wanting a route or path to lead,
Out of the place where terror hides.
The feeling flows like rippling tides.
Then once in home or safer spot,
The inner feeling stars to rot.
A shaking body and paler face,
Show traces of that evil place.

Catharsis

The dream threw me. 

Isn't it always the case,

That something you think you have resolved,

Comes back to bite you,

Or in this case, 

Kiss

One of those dreams,

That feels as real as any strange day. 

It was only a dream,

And as long as it stays a dream,

I guess I shouldn't worry. 

I know the truth,

And that should at least prepare me,

For future behaviour. 

I guess the thing that disturbed me the most,

Is that I did the one thing,

I'm always trying not to do. 

Maybe it was my minds attempt at catharsis. 

Now that's done, 

However unreal,

It will all be easier. 

Then again... 

Burning

I have that feeling in my stomach.

My house is starting to burn all around me. 

I'm not to blame,

But it's still burning. 

Too many questions.

There were too many questions today.

Too many questions for my brain to handle with grace. 

Words that went in started dropping back out,

But by then they sounded tired. 

Words dropped out that sounded short. 

Those words were short. 

Some were even tinged with frustration. 

Maybe one or two sounded angry. 

You're asleep now, 

And I am going to drown those questions, 

Those words,

In wine.
I will toast to tomorrow.  

Friends

When filled with joy, you want to share,
And revel in the fact that friends are there.
Their presence acts as amplification,
But in sadness they are also medication.
In moments of loneliness, when all is lost,
And emotions are covered in a layer of frost.
When no one, no one, seems to care.
You're al alone, though countless souls are there.
Take one step back from all your fears,
And through the mist of salted tears,
See my hand - reach out and take it.
Any problem, we can break it.

To lose a part

A powerful fear, a constant dread.
A permanent ache inside my head
To lose a friend, to lose a part,
Of my own soul, would break my heart.

Meeting

I was in that decision place,

Of whether one glass was enough,

When we started in that sparky argument type banter. 

The type that seems to either turn a man on,

Or piss him off. 

At first, you could see. 

He was wobbling between the two  

By the close of the bar,

He was at the former. 

I only realised when the bar closed. 

I could tell he didn't want to leave. 

Or, at least he didn't want to leave without me. 

He suggested we take a walk. 

He was smart, funny, arrogant and respectful. 

He was also a little drunk, but then so was I. 

He sent an email so empassioned, 

I wish my boss hadn't seen it,  

And I took his flowers with me to Boston. 

Dark night

I'm laying here,
Close to tears.
Blame tiredness,
And all those fears.
That lonely feeling,
Deep inside.
That exposed concern,
With no place to hide.
With every day,
There's something wrong.
But every day,
You must go on.
You miss the person,
You once were,
But do not want,
To make her stir.
You'll only feel,
The loss much greater
And who you are now?
You must not hate her.
She's all you have,
And all you can give.
So you keep on going
You simply live.

History

That I can turn, head down, heart sore, and be held by you.
That my frown is so easily turned to smile,
And you can turn the weakest of smiles to laughter.

That we can sit and talk for hours.
That you even smile when I can't stop talking,
And yet we can do comfortable silences.

That even when you annoy me,
I still feel that pull to you,
And sometimes it even, grudgingly, makes me laugh.

That no matter how tired I feel,
I feel loved when I am with you,
And it suits me.

You stand behind me to make sure I have something to lean against.
I know that if I cried, you would hold me,
And absorb the pain.

That you worry whenever I lose my spark,
And that you want to reignite it.
That you can.

Thank you.

Waiting for results

I don't care for me.

I care for the me that cares for you. 

I care for you. 

There are no words for how much I love you. 

Only tears. 

So many tears,

Of every shape and size. 

I care for the you I could miss.  

I care for the nights, 

Like the last,

When you call for me,

To hug the nightmare away. 

To hold you,

Until you feel calm again.  

I care for the times when you catch my gaze,

To check that you are protected.
I care for those moments,

When your eyes light at my smile,

Your face begins to glow,

And you run to throw your arms around me. 

You run to me. You choose me. 

I worry,
That if I have to leave you,
Then it might leave you,
With a hole you cannot fill,
And a loneliness you cannot shake.
I do not want that for you.
I do NOT want that for you.

Me?
I worry that I may no longer,

Have the true, true, honour,

Of being your safe place,

Of being the cradle, 

Where you rest your frantic heart.
Your burning, bursting, heart.

I worry no one will love you,
With this force of power,
This depth,
And width,
And height.
For it must mean something,
Because, to me, it is everything. 

One word answers

It's those one-word answers that kill me. 

The obvious snubbing,

And the inability to relax in a conversation,

Reflects the disappointment and shame. 

They are polite but rude. 

They are just waiting to explode in to heartbreak. 

Near death experience

I don't have the clarity,

That some people say they have,

Nor did my life,

Flash before my eyes. 

I don't have a new found energy. 

I have a slight edge of confusion,

A physical tiredness,

And a, sort of, disbelief. 

Maybe, 

In a few days,

It will hit me,

And I will blubber for hours. 

Maybe, 

I'll have a nightmare tonight,

And it will haunt me,

For days. 

Grief

I had that burning sensation in my chest,

Where you feel like your heart is crying,

But I don't remember the content of the conversation. 

My mind

I sit here and I dredge my mind.
There are thoughts and memories I need to find.
My mind, it functions with more success,
When I let it flow and do not press.
Yet the more it flows, the further I travel,
Away from the point. The knot must unravel.

The thoughts my mind does produce,
Are not help in what I must deduce.
I think it's a cause of the pain,
That I cannot stand here again.
The nearer I tired, the deeper the knife,
So memories I generate, of gold idyllic life.

Perhaps they are more want than real.
They're tainted by emotions that I feel.
Those feelings, to me that you intro'd.
The lightings bright beside your road.
I see you blinded by such light,
But not other way would be as right.

Lust be the sun

Lust be the sun,

Love be the moon,

And when they do meet,

There is wonderous glory.  

Whether there is rise or set,

It's beautify is equal. 

So,

Friends be drawn to dawn,  

Lovers be drawn to dusk,

And be lost. 

Adrenaline

Once in the car, I could feel myself start to shake. 

I think it was the adrenaline from the confrontation,

Mixed with the shock of everything that had happened over the last few days. 

I had different loops running through my head. 

I was re-running my conversations, 

Thinking of smarter, sassier, funnier comments I could have made.

I was angry, annoyed, hurt, and completely confused. 

I wanted to cry. I had no real reason to, but I wanted to.

I was tired and fed up. I was weary.  

I wanted to curl up and disappear for a few days. 

I wanted to get back my energy and come out ready to fight. 

I wanted to be able to smile without it seeming like an effort. 

Parenting

Parenting.
Natures way,
Of telling you that you will no more,
Be the most important thing,
To yourself.
Yet you can be,
The most important thing,
To someone else.

Mind games

There is nothing I despise more than mind games,

From people who are supposed to love you. 

Playing with people,

Using them as toys. 

As if what you are feeling,

What you want,

Is not just second to what they want,

But what they can make you do. 

Mirror

I seem to have been learning,
About how people see me,
Of late.
Maybe that means,
Learning how I really am,
As well.

Letters

Writing to you, I got let my mind flow.
Let it go where it wanted to,
And say what it wanted to.
My mind was free when I wrote to you,
Because I always had the choice at the end.
Whether I should burn it, or send it.
To be able to set my mind on autopilot for the flight,
And yet reign it in for the controlled landing.

Half promises

It's the sort of promise you make,

Because you want it,

But you're only half convinced,

That it's ever going to happen. 

Regret

There are, as I try and live my life,

So many things I now regret. 

I regretted no action,

So took action. 

Now as I take action,

I regret action. 

Always wanting what you cannot have. 

Always scared of getting what you want. 

A wave of emotions.

Sometimes,

A wave of emotions passes over me,

And I physically raise my hands to my eyes,

To try and block the vision. 

I shudder,

And struggle to push the knowledge,

To be back of my mind,

Again. 

Realisation

Some conversations say nothing,
And suddenly mean everything.
It's just the realisation that caring is the only thing.
When it's real, pure.
Just simple heartfelt,
Can't help, caring.
Then it's the only thing.

You just are.

There is a thing worse than lonely.
It's that moment where you realise you're alone.
You didn't think you were,
But you suddenly realise you are.
You didn't think they were judging you,
But what they've just said,
And the way it was said,
You realise they are.
It hits you,
Hard in the stomach,
And all you want to do is cry.
It doesn't matter,
Whether they did it to you,
Or you did it to yourself.
It just is.
You just are.
Now.

Reflection

When I look at myself for a long time in the mirror,

I stop seeing the visual me. 

My mind seems to become tired of my face,

Seeing only shapes and lines. 

Then, gradually, 

Even the abstract lines have no meaning for me. 

As my eyes begin to blur,

My thoughts take over,

And what I see is a mix between memories and thoughts. 

The real me. 

It's then I know how much of me,

Is made up of those people I love,

And have loved. 

I see parts of them in me. 

It's for that single moment,

That I can't dislike anything about myself,

Because I love the people who made me. 

Questioning look

I like the way he smiles at me.
I like the way it could be a question.
A question he thinks I understand,
But he's not expecting an answer to.
I like those people who don't expect answers.
Not just yet.

Rather not

I'd rather not talk about the last three months,
Because the descriptions you try and force now,
To explain even a part of the experience,
Can't do justice to where your heart and mind was.

Poem

Those days are gone and I miss them.
Full of words, I'd force pen to paper.
Creating sense in simple strokes of ink.
Understanding myself, and others.
Cleansing for the fresh day.
Crying 'til the hollow breath.
The pause means done - and sleep.
The deep breath, the release, and the poem.
Awareness.

Pick up

I had to laugh when the bar woman approached me.
She said, "The gentleman at the bar over there,
Would like to buy you a drink.
The one in the blue coat, just there."
That had never happened to me before,
And it seemed surreal.
Like it was a movie.
He was a sweet, but not so sweet,
23 year old from Louisiana.
Missing home and life
An extra from 'The Big Easy'.
"It chaps my ass." He said.
"Does it really? Do tell."
Replied the amused English lady.

Perceptive

Sometimes I amaze myself,
By my ability to think myself out a good mood.
To concentrate in negative things,
And to choose to prioritise those over the positive ones,
To worry about things that might not necessarily be true.
I was told too early in life that I was right, insightful,
Because now I'm always wondering,
If that dark thought I had was the perceptive truth.

Optimism (cowboy style)

On the journey back to the house,
Bernie told me the cowboy hat rule.
White for summer.
Black for winter.
The ones on the dance floor,
Or on the heads of the people on the floor,
Had been a mixture.
"So tonight, when folks can't decide,
Whether it's summer or winter,
Is the right time to identify,
Those who think half full,
And those who think half empty..."
He laughed, looked back at me,
Looked at his white hat on the seat next to me,
And smiled.

I worry.

I worry.
She is my friend.
Her life.
Her choices.
But she is my friend.
I can not make her decisions for her,
I must not try,
But I care.
I worry.
She is my friend.

Us

Sometimes I feel it isn't enough,
But always more than I deserve.
Without doubt, too dear to damage.
Too needed to give away.
A part of me.

Admirer

There is a man,
Who thinks of me
And for a moment,
My heart takes flight,
'Tis free.
Inspiration,
Chance to smile.
My finger's,
Approaching telephone dial.
I pull them back,
I chose circumspection,
But my mind is still,
In a Northerly direction.

Timing

He always seemed to appear,
At a time when I needed attention,
When I needed my faith restoring.
Still, the timing,
For us,
Was never right.

One of those things

I would write it off,
As 'one of those things'.
One of those things,
That makes you aware, learn,
And is therefore priceless.
You know,
One of those things,
That you have to label,
As something,
To justify the fact,
That bad things,
Keep on happening.

Always

I think I'll always love you.
I think I'll always feel something in my stomach,
When your name is mentioned or read.
I think I'll always hope it's the same for you.
I envy people who have the all encompassing love,
But I'm just not sure it would be right for me.
You were maybe the closest I got,
But you weren't completely right for me,
So part of me still loves you,
And will always.
Not having one complete love,
Is the price I have to pay,
For having a part of you there,
Still making me smile.

Answers

It's more than not getting back,
The answer I want.
It's that if I ask him,
And he gives me the answer,
He has the right,
To ask me.
I'm not sure,
I have an answer,
And that's not the answer,
He's going to like.

My heart is spent

What was once a constant smile,
Is becoming constant pain.
The image that was pleasing,
Is changing mood again.
What was once a desired companion,
Is now my souls torment.
For now I know the truth,
And now my heart is spent.

Accident waiting to happen

It wasn't a good idea,
And I'm not proud of myself.
Believe me.
I just have this notion,
That when two accidents waiting to happen,
Collide,
Maybe it's better that way.
It's done,
And dusted,
So you can start rebuilding.

Toast

To faded days,
And distant dreams.
To drinks that wet soft lips,
And warm dry throats.
To touches,
That burn your skin for days.
To a sleepy yawn of promise.
To the smile that greets you,
When you wake.
To the taste of a kiss,
That's only a memory.
To sunlight,
Gently drying morning dew.
To the look of pleasure,
When you meet a friend.
To wild abandon dancing.
To candlelight evoked thoughts.
To family and friendship.
To letting a day take you.
To remembering.

What you see.

When you see yourself,
On camera.
As others see you,
And you realise,
You've changed.
Physically,
As well as mentally.
Whilst you had come to terms,
With the mental, the know.
You know,
You,
Don't,
Like,
What you see.
Now you're not quite sure,
How you feel,
About that.
How you feel,
About you.
About you, now.
Now.

Bar hawk

He was in his fifties.
When he sat,
On the red and gold checked bar stool,
Parts of his buttocks rolled off the edge.
As a long distance coach driver,
He'd spent too long behind the wheel.

He politely checked the seat was free,
And when I responded,
He recognised a fellow Brit.

We smiled and chat began.
As I put the book down,
On the black and gold flecked marble bar,
He apologised for commandeering my time.
He was the first that night to do it,
But but not the last of the trip.

We chatted politely at first,
And eventually,
Particularly in my case,
Animatedly.

He seemed, like me,
A stranger in town,
Someone who lived the life of a perpetual stranger,
With no one to call at home.
No one would really miss us,
If we disappeared for a month.

Then the compliments began to increase,
And he said, "The answer is no, isn't it".

Just checking,
I asked what the question was,
But did mention that if he had to ask,
Then yes, the answer was probably no.

The question was, "My room?"
The answer was definitely no.
A definite "No".
He followed it with,
"I'm a bad person.
I've ruined the conversation.
You think I'm a dirty old man."

"They're your words
Not mine," I uttered,
As I got up from the stool,
"But I'm leaving now...
And no, you're not invited."

I watched my back,
As I got in the lift,
Reaching my room,
In no time at all.
Wondering which one of us,
Misread the situation.

Honest words

He hoped I didn't,
For his own sake.
Somehow,
The most honest words,
I ever heard spoken.

A little bit of guilt seeps in.

I see just a twitch of something.
A twitch of facial muscles.
I wonder whether I stepped over boundaries,
Feelings that I didn't know we're there.
I say nothing.
And a little bit of guilt seeps in.

Wind

The wind was taken from my sails,
And it showed physically.
My shoulders dropped,
As my exhalation went deep into my soul,
Purging all I had within my body.

The look of concern,
On the faces of the others in the room,
Brought me back
And made me smile a little.

Just that little,
That is an eye sparkling,
Type of little.
The temptation of a smile,
That could be all encompassing.

It took me out of that moment,
That room,
To better moments had,
And cleansed my angst.

Whooping

Her whoops,

That had been lost earlier,
In the big band,
Raucous applause,
And appreciation,

Highlighted the extent of the alcohol consumed,
During the day,

And shocked the room.
Like little electrical pulses,
Every time they were emitted,
From the back of her throat.

Temporary person of purpose

A face I can't fully place,
Can't pinpoint,
But when glimpses of it,
Pass through my head,
They make me smile.

Beautiful,
Temporary,
Person of purpose

Empathy

You've felt every one of those things,
Because you've been there.
You shuffle uncomfortably,
Because the memories are too close,
And too harsh.
Sore on the edges.

Strange dreams.

I had a series,
Of strange dreams last night.
It has shifted me a little,
Sideways.
They're not memories,
But new versions,
Of old times.
Reminders.

A little shift,
From where my life is now.

I don't think you know.

We had the usual drunken,
Marriage and love,
Talks,
But I was honest about thinking,
It was never going to materialise.
He warmed me with his empassioned,
'I don't think you know how much I love you.'

Away

Can we stop somewhere?
Can we go somewhere?
Somewhere with fresh air,
And a cool breeze.
Somewhere where either there are no people at all,
Or there are hundreds of strangers.
I want to get away from all this.
I want to get away from being me.

Falsehood

You flatter with words,
In moments you feel you must,
But your body language,
And actions,
Betray you.

You confuse even yourself,
With the conflicting desires,
And, as much as it makes me,
Not all together like myself,
I hope it pains you.

What they are trying to tell me.

So I sit here,
With the sun in my face,
Listening to he birds, planes, helicopters.
Wondering what tune to put on next,
And whether to get my book,
From the side of the bed.

Deciding not to write,
About last nights nightmares,
And what they are trying to tell me.

Nauseous.

It's like I'm hungry,
For that thing I don't have,
For that connection.

Yet my stomach,
Is that empty,
I could not face the food.

The mere thought of it,
Makes me nauseous.

Always tired.

My brain is still sleepy from the 40 winks.
Two days in a row now,
I have catnapped mid/late afternoon.
I think it is my mind that needs the catnaps.
My mind is tiring my body.

Standing in front of the large, lit, mirror,
That walls the bathroom.
I do not like my image.
I see all the things,
I wish were not there.

Comparing it to the drawing,
The etching of the female sculpture,
I could suppose that I,
Could, in some ways,
Come across more 'favourably'.

In some ways.
On good days.
But then I reason,
That this is real life,
Where not everything is 'beautiful'.

Oh, how we see,
Judge, what we see,
And make ourselves tired.
Always judging.
Always tired.

Catching.

I catch myself,

At times, in moments,

I see myself. 

My self. 

I see myself,

From another perspective. 

An old self,

My self. 

It catches my innards. 

Ties me to her, delicately. 

The old self. 

My self. 

Remembering, missing, 

Wishing, wondering. 

What would shift? 

What would change?

What could I keep?

What would I lose? 

Free her and lose me? 

Smiles.

When I look at their smiles,
Envy  flips
A sudden reaction.
The emotion grips.

A deeper look,
And thoughts appear.
Putting myself in place.
Have they hidden fear?

We all carry bruises,
We all carry scars,
That infect our happiness.
History marrs.

We put on our faces.
We tackle today.
Our minds hold more,
Than our mouths care to say.

Boiling

He makes a statement, and I recoil.
A statement to make my sweet blood boil.
He gets no reaction, so up he stands.
His look says we're strangers in foreign lands.
No openness to things outside his box.
My back is stirred. My shoulders? Rocks.
Grouch, take advantage, even moan,
But never question the music of Nina Simone.

escaping days

Escaping days
Days of freedom.
Where smiles bubble,
Just below the surface.
Where you make your own choices,
And the hamster wheel has stopped.
Paused for just a moment.
A precious moment.

Not yet here.

You're not yet here,
But you fill my thoughts.
The things not to do,
And then the oughts.

I worry for you.
I worry for us.
I know it will look like,
Making a fuss.

But I must, I must.
For fear of regret.
For fear of my fault,
That I couldn't forget.

The genes they have stirred.
The worrying builds.
Below the surface.
As the love gilds.

Looking forward.

My urge is there, to have things right.
But too much effort, generates fight.
Did I do too much, did I push too far?
Those fears that take happiness and marr.
I look forward to the day that we can meet,
But am scared to tempt fate, that I'll lose you - my sweet.

Simply live.

I'm laying here,
Close to tears.
Blame tiredness,
And all those fears.
That lonely feeling,
Deep inside.
The exposed concern,
With no place to hide.
With every day,
There's something wrong.
But every day,
You must go on.
You miss the person,
You once were,
But do not want,
To make her stir.
You'll only feel,
The loss much greater
And who you are now?
You must not hate her.
She's all you have,
And all you can give.
So you keep on going
You simply live.

Letters to the dead.

Dear Grandad, 

I read some articles in a magazine and thought of you – the same way that you would read newspaper articles, think of me, and have them folded on the side ready for my Saturday visit. They made me realise that I’m still holding on to this feeling that in the midst of all those ‘thanks’ you gave to me in the last few years, maybe I didn’t make mine clear enough to you.  I didn’t thank you for the most important thing. Being you. 

You’d shrug it off, you’d make a joke, but I think you’d be quietly pleased.We lost you in October.  I can’t thank you for that.  I acknowledge that you might have been thankful for it at the end, but that’s for your letter of thanks – this is mine.You thought you were a nuisance.  You thought you were the kind of hassle we didn’t need.  Never. Oh, you could be hard work.  I’d never deny that.  I’d have a hard job of denying that. But you were worth every car journey and every minute and hour we gave to you, for you.  You were Grandad.  But it’s more than that.

You were the person that taught me that love can be that quiet thing that just hangs around in the background until you need it.  You were the person that showed me that love is still love, and still means the earth, when the object of that love is lost to dementia.  Watching you quietly, ever so patiently, sit there and still love Grandma, unequivocally, no matter what dementia made her resort to, showed me that love doesn’t have to change when people change, when situations change.  Love is that moment you treasure, that connection you had, and it is still golden long after the years and the trauma’s have tarnished it.  Underneath, it is still gold.  It was you, and I think that’s probably a surprise for both of us, that taught me about real love.  Not the pretty love, not the sexy love, and not the fairy tale love.  The love, love.  The day to day, putting up with the pain, willing to fight for it, love.  The mostly patient and accepting love that steps up whenever it’s needed. 

Never a man of many words, but always a man of those little two or three line poems in birthday cards.  The Man with the rubbish jokes.  The man with the tales about life before I was born, the ones that were very often on repeat.  Even the criticisms of my hair cuts…  I loved them because they were you and they said that you cared.  But the day I read the card you had them write for Grandma’s funeral taught me that you were the man of the right words and just how strong love could be.  “E, Just an aching void, A."

It still gets me in the stomach, the throat and the tear ducts.  Straight to the point and quietly powerful - so very you. 

So this letter is for the words I can never be sure you heard because I only got to say them whilst you were sleeping - and they’d removed the hearing aid by that point.  

Grandad, Thank you for being you and thank you for loving me.  You were loved and you were always worth it. 

Not a good combination.

I just didn't realise that relationships can die,
Because you care too much.

I gave myself away,
Until there was barely anything left.

At that point, I wasn't enough,
For either of us.

He became disappointed,
And I bitter.

They are not a good combination.

Nothing to say.

I stared aimlessly out of the passenger window.
The sun was bright, reflecting on the window,
And I raised the darkened spectacles,
To cover my aching eyes.
It occurred to me at that point,
That I was not offering conversation to the driver,
But I couldn't think of anything to say,
So I retreated back in to my own mind.

Support

He shuffled towards her,
Took her head in his hands,
And used the pad of his forefinger,
To gently wipe away the tears.

She dropped her head a little lower.

Taking the weight of it in his hand,
He raised it to his,
And placed soft kisses on her lips.

Gradually she began to respond.

Choice

That one day, when the sun is shining, and you've been tired to such an excess that you take one step back from the life you have been caught up in, and you breathe. A deep, rejuvenating, breath.  You feel the tightness in your shoulders, the ache if the muscles, but you feel.

One day when the rain is falling and you have no place to run, no place to hide, and you stand, giving in. One drop falls and you shudder, then the next and the next until you are covered, drenched, fresh, clean.

In those moments you can see that you can step back. You do have control. There is always another option. There is no guarantee that the other option is better, or sensible, or right, but you have a choice.

In that moment you make that choice and with that decision comes the energy to tackle the problem, to smile.

Sunshine

The light simmers my soul as it heats my skin,
And pushes blank stare in to cheeky grin.
It blinds my eye to the tainted truth,
And takes me back to a hungry youth.
The drive, the verve, that suits me well,
But tends to only last a spell.
My reserve of life, to draw me on.
Enjoy my time before its gone.

Sleeping.

He lies there, gently sleeping,
His breathing fast and deep.
I sit closely at his bedside.
My damaged heart it weeps.
I can't escape this feeling,
Can't understand this need,
To always have him with me.
I know that it is greed.
The try, attempt, to comfort.
They say it's for the best,
That living for him was painful,
And now in peace he'll rest.
That knowledge does not help me,
Does not remove the pain.
The dark cloud's omnipresent.
Will I ever feel the same?

Sometimes.

Sometimes, I can not say the things I really want to say.
Sometimes, my thoughts are coloured when they really should be grey.
Sometimes, saying nothing is a communication flaw.
But sometimes, saying nothing says ever so much more.

Hindsight and hope.

With hindsight, you know you saw it.
You just didn't want to see it.
You wanted to believe.
Against all odds,
Against the thing you saw in front of you.
You just wanted to believe.
You knew it was coming,
You just wanted to believe it wasn't.

So now I'm here.
I've lost my beliefs,
But surprisingly I still have hope.
Don't ya just love hope.

When they truly care.

Love is not perfect

Nor is it pure

But you wish it the strength

To fore'er endure. 

It becomes a part

Of your beating heart 

And it does embed

In your head.

It calls you to trust. 

In it, in you. 

To trust in us

And to us be true. 

It isn't easy.

It isn't fair. 

But it's everything 

When they truly care.