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.