Beyond your time.

Don’t look to me for gratitude.
Don’t be expecting quiet applause.
I am tired and it’s beyond your time.
My position has its cause.
I will sit here for a moment,
And I refuse to accept shame.
I am tired and it’s beyond your time.
This life is not a game.

Her life.

Back inside her box,
Crunching on the shells,
Whispering silent words.
Are they prayers, are they spells?
Tension in her stomach,
Although she loves this place,
Caused by second guessing.
She is better when there’s space.
She cares.   She always cares,
But that is not the cause.
Considering your mood first,
Puts her life on pause.

Not quite.

When you feel the difference,
It raises you a stack.  
You enjoy the time, the moments,
But you can’t take the knowledge back.
You can’t ignore it, cannot hide it.
You saw it and you’re aware,
But when there’s nothing you can do with it.
Its not quite time to share.

Still waters.

When what the day tells you,
Is you need to work on yourself.
You need to improve,
It’ll be good for your health.
You need to improve,
To do your best for her.
She needs the still waters,
And not the stir.

The mound.

That is where you find yourself,
Or so some of them say.
When you have to remove yourself,
From your normal day.
Glimpses, perhaps glimpses.
I certainly wasn’t found,
But like a meerkat in a desert,
I think I made it to the mound.

That start.

You are my present.
You are my gift.
My past? Just memories,
Through which I sift.
You are my centre,
Bearing deep to the core.
I will keep on trying,
Just like I swore.
You are my reason.
You own my heart,
But I need space in there too,
And tomorrow’s that start.

Your rebirth.

You know it says it all.
Action louder than word.
Behaviour so clear,
It demands to be heard.
When you know your place.
When they put value on your worth,
You give a wry little smile,
And prepare for your re-birth.

Becoming gone.

I need to not be me,
For five minutes, maybe more.
I need to just close down,
Curl up on the floor.
I need to not be needed,
Not wanted, nor required.
My desire to keep you happy,
Has recently expired.
I dislike that I’m not allowed,
A moment to be sad.
I dislike that being unhappy,
Will inevitably make you mad.
Why must I be switched on?
Why must I be the one?
My willingness to please,
Is slowly becoming gone.

Mental pin.

When I dream, it’s with intensity.
With joy, but also with fear.
I no longer rush for comfort.
My path’s becoming clear.
Now I take a deep breath,
Let the adrenaline rush in,
Let my mind review it’s workings,
And insert a mental pin.

lighter brighter.

Some have their favourite place,
Some have their favourite time.
This, right here,
Is mine.
This is where I find the joy.
This is where my heart is lighter.
Here is semi-darkness,
Is how a day is brighter.

Switching groove.

Too tired tonight,
To operate as one normally would.
To tired to really try,
To do those things I should.
I’ll do them, but in my own time.
I know you won’t approve.
This is me, at the moment.
I might be switching groove.

Tip toe.

Today I think I was searching,
But I don’t know quite what for.
It’s like I could sense a shift,
Or an opening trap door.
I walked through life as normal,
Said and did all expected things,
But I seemed to have an eye out,
For that rumble that change brings.
Tomorrow, another day,
Is looming on towards,
It I still feel like I must tip toe,
On what feels like unsafe boards.

Fear and guilt.

At first I go to blame you,
For making this thing tougher.
Your actions make me want to protect,
And the swirling seas turn rougher.
In the midst of a roaring swell,
I make my own mistakes,
I often rush to action,
When I should apply the breaks.
I can overcompensate,
Then regret each move I made,
And then the ones I didn’t.
The path of fear and guilt is laid.
I have then turned to blame myself,
For not doing this thing better.
My heart will burn in sadness,
And my cheeks will become wetter.

Raise the bar.

Some things are not worth it,
Some things truly are.
Some changes in your life,
Understandably raise the bar.
Some things become more important,
And that’s the honest truth.
There was a time those things had importance,
But that was in my youth.  

Tome

I saw a little of the life I had,
Of the person that I’d been.
Old faces, new locations,
A pattern I’d often seen.
Parts of it brought ease,
Parts of it were intoxicating,
But I am no longer green,
And sitting is no longer waiting.
I saw a little of the life I had,
But I glowed at returning home.
I saw a difference there in us,
Which I sense will require a tome.

Myself again.

This is my peace.
This is my time.
These are the moments,
When happiness is mine.
If only life,
We’re always like this.
I do know,
There would be things we’d miss.
Still,  I can’t help but focus,
On the things we'd gain.
Like getting to be,
Myself again.
 

Draw me away.

My prayer to you,
Is more a plea.
Keep us safe,
And my mind free.
I long for pure,
Unmitigated joy.
Without the spur,
That’s there to annoy.
To shift my focus,
Draw me away,
And stop this being.
Just a beautiful day.

Beanstalk.

My self built prison,
Or at least I passed the gate.
I walked in to there willingly,
Not knowing I’d come to hate,
All the little signs,
Of what this life really means.
I did not expect the giant,
When I sowed my cow-bought beans.

The pen is shy.

I turned the page,
To start again,
Pen something real,
Pour out the pain,
But the pen just hung,
With nothing to say,
Or at least,
Not today.
It’s there.  You know it,
So do I,
But today it hurts.
The pen is shy.

An effect.

I have a life,
Controlled by fear.
Fear for those,
I hold so dear.
I remember fondly,
That time in life,
When I wasn’t a mother,
Or even a wife.
I did not have,
Such a desire to protect.
All encompassing love,
Does have an affect.

A kind of kind.

If it wasn’t supposed to be something,
If it was just another this,
It would be OK, it would be pleasant,
And this is what it is.
You take what you take from it.
You take it as you find.
Look at life with grace,
And try to think a kind of kind.

Enjoy clear.

Always something to consider.
Always something to bring on worry,
Always something to do.
Always hurry, hurry.
Now I get five minutes,
But on a day when I can’t drop the fear.
I wish my five minutes were yesterday,
When my mind could enjoy clear.

Gloved.

I will take a deep breath.
I will take it again.
Honour the girl I was,
And walk on through the pain.
I will hold this girl tight,
Ensure she knows she is loved.
Coat her tender heart,
Like it is gloved.

Life is not.

I could have done without the trigger,
But that’s life, and this is life.
Moments of hope and calm,
Amongst the hurt and strife.
Today I took some moments,
A step to honouring my soul,
But I’ll never again, be who I was.
Life is not en caul.

Rope.

Glimpses.  Just glimpses,
But glimpses nonetheless.
Moments of something,
Amidst the running stress.
Glimpses.  Just glimpses,
But they give a little hope.
A lifeline, to cling to.
I’m holder no tight to rope.

Makes me less.

I know my pattern.
I know my shift.
The things that lift me,
Or have me drift.
Worry always takes my spark.
It removes my patience,
Makes me bark.
I hate that it’s my love for you,
That makes me less,
Than what you’re due.

I stand here still.

I do not fully understand you,
Don’t think I ever will,
But the love that I do have,
Means I stand here still.

Her mother.

I heard it. I knew it.
Life on repeat.
I knew it, ‘cause I feel it.
Sometimes it has me beat,
Sometimes in the moment,
Sometimes as I recover,
But then I know my worth,
Because my girl, she loves her mother.

All release.

Heart tired.  Head tired.
A little broken, a little bruised.
Weary, exhausted,
Slightly overused.
A moment, just a moment.
Desperate for peace.
Just a brief escape.
To let it all release.

Mere moments.

It takes mere moments to change things.
The rug from beneath your feet.
The challenges thrown at you,
You just have to meet.
I sit here and hope,
And then hope some more.
Do the best that you can,
With your heart on the floor.

My lot.

Sometimes it could not be clearer.
Sometimes I don’t understand.
Your behaviour is somehow changeable.
But you rarely play your hand.
Sometimes I worry ‘bout it.
Tonight I chose to not.
Tonight I choose to just enjoy,
The smile from the joy in my lot.