Best thing I can say.

I worried for your happiness,
Your safety, then what they'd think.
I wanted us to synchronise swim,
And it had felt like we would sink.
I held on with hope,
Whilst thinking of all the reasons,
All the options available,
To guide us through the seasons.
But tonight is a new night,
Tomorrow another day,
And you seem yourself again,
And that's the best thing I can say.

Heartbreak and strife.

In every dark now,
I think darker ahead,
Questioning what the future is,
After what has been said.
I try to stay mindful,
Remain in the now,
But the present is hard,
And if I'm struggling with how,
I will recover today,
I'm conscious I need,
To find me a way,
For us all to succeed.
To get better at dealing,
With the fall out of life,
With what we need as people,
To prevent heartbreak and strife.

Isn't today.

When he walks away,
Like an hour is enough,
Is when I wish that I,
Were made of different stuff.
I would say what I think,
Without fear of recourse.
I could say it just once,
Without the throat going hoarse.
He'd understand,
Without me having to say.
But that isn't us.
That isn't today.

Patchwork quilt.

It may just be a phase,
Or something's bothering you,
But I'm getting stronger feelings,
That life will be hard for you.
You're a stop further on than sensitive.
You feel things to the hilt.
You process in your own way,
A beautiful patchwork quilt.

Pretend it's mine.

This is the life I expected,
This image before me tonight.
It's not real, like the life I expected,
It might look it, but something's not right.
Yet I want to just soak in the moment,
And pretend that it's mine and it's real.
Breathe, like there's no grip in my chest.
Feel like I thought I would feel.

Cleft.

I am getting better,
At choosing me.
I'm still not sure,
How right that will be.
I'm making decisions,
I wouldn't have made.
Those I would,
Would have left me frayed.
I've been fraying a while,
'Til there's not much left.
So now it's for me,
Though my conscience is cleft.

This time.

Is it you? Or is it me,
And how I am,
When I feel free.
I do feel lighter,
Without fear of your gaze,
The look in your eyes,
Like a constant haze.
A grey cloud above us.
Is it yours, or really mine?
Until I have the answer,
I'll just enjoy this time.

Me time.

Me time is addictive.
Me time tempts and teases.
It's been so long since I was someone,
Who could do just as she pleases.
It may only be an hour or so,
But how it revives the heart.
It isn't a want of permanence,
I could not bare for us to part,
But just a little down time,
A mental pause to deep inhale,
Can repower my failing batteries,
So this wonky boat can sail.

This race.

I wonder if there was a moment,
When we took different roads,
When we came apart just enough,
To be carrying seperate loads.
The roads are linked,
Or running parallel,
But we're often at different pace,
And I really do not have a clue,
How we're going to end this race.

Hidden pain.

Is it sore there?
Is it causing you pain?
You give me that look,
Then the no of disdain.
Only you were scratching,
Really quite hard.
I'm just asking a question,
No need to take guard.
I care for your safety,
Your general well being,
And it's just your discomfort,
I am now seeing.
I may be able to lessen it,
To help you take care.
If you'll only be honest,
And choose to share.

Plenty a mile.

You enter a room,
And you fill up the air,
With a poison, a gas,
That you just have to share.
Before holding my breath,
I inhale deep,
So the damage is done,
The negativity, I keep.
Unless I make efforts,
To purge it, to clear.
The stain on my heart,
Brings anxiety near.
I long for days,
That start and stay with a smile.
I know I haven't had that,
In plenty a mile.

Harm.

I knew it was coming,
But it can still grate,
The spoken words,
Badly covering hate.
Is it hate?
Or is it spite?
Will words issued,
Be regretted tonight.
Is it just programming,
To always be mean,
To chose, every time,
To deride and demean.
The fierce nature of words,
As they spit from your lips,
Makes me take a deep breath,
Roll in fingertips.
I try to be gracious,
I try to be calm,
But I can't shake the feeling,
Your doing me harm.

Bug.

I'd dream of sleep,
Sleep and wine,
If only life,
Would give me the time.
All those years,
You toss it aside,
For moments of fun,
On a passing tide.
Now here I am,
Day dreaming of sleep.
The overwhelming exhaustion,
When you fear you will weep,
At any little thing,
Not going your way.
When it just feels so hard,
To get through the day.
Then she comes smiling,
Wanting a hug,
And you remember this is transient,
It's only a bug.  

She deserves.

I thought I'd get through today
And I suppose I fully did.
It's just the level of tiredness,
And the fact, in the kitchen I'm hid.
I can't pull my body off this plush chair,
Am just calling instructions to feign,
An interest in what she is doing,
Before I have to get going again.
I love that she seems to be improving.
I'm desperate for sleep in the night.
I hate when she wakes up crying,
The struggled breathing, is all that is fright.
I really thought I'd do today better.
This mornings coffee sold me a tale,
But I'm going to cling on for the next few hours.
She deserves someone who doesn't fail.

Worth the trouble.

I rush around,
Aim to please,
But I'm no coquette,
Nor tempting tease.
Life has changed.
I have too.
I haven't yet worked out,
If you're a new you.
Our priorities have shifted,
My foundations did definitely move,
Some rocks did fall in the process,
So our stability we've yet to prove.
I like to hope we've got it,
Though it may lay beneath some rubble,
So I rush around and aim to please,
'Cause I believe we're worth the trouble.

New horrors.

When it's just that much off kilter,
That it's not the place you know.
When it's sleeting, cold and icy,
And you imagined snow.
When you make all the efforts,
But it's never to their joy,
So you always second guessing,
And you feel like someone's toy.
Yet you always keep in going,
You always do something,
Because to give up completely,
Would all new horrors bring.

Has me troubled.

A week of fun,
Straight ahead.
The thing I promised,
That thing I said.
Now look at us,
Cuddled here,
Your temperature,
And hurting ear.
It's not about the week though,
I can do chilled out and cuddled,
It's your sadness, and it getting worse,
That really has me troubled.

Peeve.

I am grateful for the day it was.
I am grateful for the reprieve.
It does make me dread tomorrow though,
As I suspect you'll do that weave,
Where you make it impossible,
For me to dodge, and to say no.
I'll hold my breath, take the ride,
And off then we will go.
My hours of isolation.
Sitting on my ledge,
Is another knock on the hammer,
Against our wooden wedge.
I am grateful for the day it was, though.
I am grateful for the reprieve.
It does make me dread tomorrow,
So my thoughts become my peeve.

Burrowing mole.

I can feel the change within me,
From bold to burrowing mole.
Just one look and one question,
Now in my balloon there's a tiny hole.
I feel it in my stomach,
Then it flutters to my chest.
I don't know how to prevent it,
Or what strategies are best,
To fight it back, minimise it,
To stop it gaining hold.
I walk away and take a deep breath,
And once again, we're cold.

Glass

We sit here in awkwardness,
As you begin to cry.
I've done my crying once today,
You don't know and won't know why.
We're running on separate tracks.
We acknowledge as we pass.
My heart was once so strong?
But now is made of glass.

On the fly.

There was light in the day.
I can't explain why.
It was rush and then rush.
Life on the fly.
Yet for some unknown reason,
Not quite the same stress,
My heart and mind didn't feel,
Under duress.
There was light in the day.
I can't explain why.
There was some peace in my heart,
Without having to try.

My torments.

I am tortured by the way you are act,
When it isn't as expected.
It doesn't feel like the you I know,
The you I have respected.
Everybody makes mistakes.
Everyone has their moments,
You dipped below the line, though,
And those times, they are my torments.

Keep you near.

The wind blows through,
A storm is here.
I watch your face,
Your voice shows fear.
I try to dismiss,
I try to calm,
But can't persuade,
There'll be no harm.
I understand,
Have felt similar fear,
But it's a different one,
So I keep you near.

Never ending innocence.

Once again.  Another reason,
To disappear for hours.
You'll say you were helping.
Running errands that were ours.
Truly it just gives you,
Another weak excuse,
To leave the responsibilities to me,
And enjoy your own pursuits.
I don't think it would rub so much,
If you didn't keep pretending,
That this is all my making,
That you had no hand in how we are,
An innocence never ending.

Co-pilot.

We approach from different corners,
And never see things quite the same.
You get angry when I can't see why.
Think my emotions are a game.
Even when I make it easy,
It's just burning up inside.
My true feelings have to find,
Another place to hide.
I think it was always like this,
But back then we didn't care.
We went our way regardless,
We didn't need to share.
Now it just makes us realise,
We're not doing this as a team.
We're co-piloting,
But together is a dream.

Another line.

We dance around,
We have our place.
Some days,
I barely see your face.
I'm pretty sure,
You don't see mine,
Or how I've drawn,
Another line.
I keep the wheel,
Turning, turning,
With a bit of my heart,
Silently yearning,
For something different,
Something for me.
It's just I don't trust,
You'll like what you see.

Twists and folds.

Others gush, as she says it out loud,
Isn't it lovely, you must be so proud.
There is a little swell in my heart,
But I also know she's playing a part.
I know how she says things for he effect,
For the response she knows she will get.
How's she says things she thinks will please,
How little lies can flow out with such ease.
You don't Have to say that.  Just say what you think.
She considers what you said, gives herself time to blink.
Sometimes she owns up.  Sometimes she holds.
It's part of her make up.  Her twists and her folds.

Bold.

Sometimes I forget,
That things can be done for me.
That I can walk away,
That it doesn't have to be.
Responsibility isn't all just mine.
I can put myself first,
Not always toe a line.
I can choose not to take on,
What I am told.
I can listen to my own voice,
And choose to be bold.