Come what may.

Losing focus,
Then perspective.
Swimming in life,
No time for reflective,
Moments or minutes.
Time moves along,
Come what may.
I didn’t show up yesterday,
But will show up today.

Tame the beast.

Even on the best of days,
It dangles in the air.
I do it to myself,
But it still does not seem fair.
I didn’t have this fear before,
And wish it not to be here now.
I’ve tried to make it go away,
But I truly don’t know how.
I can feel things easing slowly,
But pacing like a snail.
Some days it’s gentle rain,
But some days the sharpest hail.
Today was a good day,
But it can still rear it’s head.
I want to tame the beast,
Because life will keep it fed.

Paying a price.

Today the fault was mine.
I have changed over the years,
I became slightly tainted,
Through their actions and my tears.
I need to unlearn my triggered behaviours,
Need to shake off my need to vent,
Or I will keep paying a price,
And in truth, I’m already spent.  

Not resented.

Today I tried to take it,
Just as it presented.
Today I try to be someone,
Who has not resented.
Today I tried to live,
As honest to the minute,
Experiencing, feeling,
Just as I am in it.
Today I tried.  I mainly succeeded.
It sort of worked,
And it was needed.

Of being.

Just ‘cause I’m grateful for the little things,
Doesn’t mean I can’t be blue.
Why am I not entitled,
When it’s good enough for you?
Yes, your journeys harder,
But you’re the one that took the ride.
I got caught in the backwash,
Of being by your side.
I have worked hard not to dwell on things,
To be grateful for what is there,
To understand your mood swings,
And to do my best in care,
But some days I am tired,
And drawn to a lower place.
Yes, I know it shows in my actions,
And also in my face,
But why am I not entitled?
Why must I always be the strong?
Sometimes I have the tiredness,
From things now being wrong.

Hang on.

I am grateful for the way it ended up.
My thoughts on today.
I’ve become grateful for the little things,
The bigger, no longer my say.
I am grateful for the way it ended up,
Though I would not have chosen this day,
I’m just aware I now need to be grateful,
When anything goes my way.
This isn’t my way, this isn’t my choice.
I’ll take any victory, however small.
I have to hang on to something,
As I give treading water my all.

Tack.

Don’t look to me for more, please.
This is all that I can give.
I have spent enough, lost enough,
Sacrificed the chance to truly live.
Don’t hold against me my limitations,
When you’re the one that broke my back.
I am trying my very best here,
So, please, try a different tack.

Unpolluted air.

When others are involved,
Is when it feels more real.
In routine, and in managing,
I can ignore things I might feel.
When others are involved,
Questions they can pose.
I do not have answers.
I don’t understand the cause.
My mind cannot process.
It does not want to be taken there.
It needs time to clear,
To pause in unpolluted air.

Cross country.

When your time is all for others,
And nothing heads your way.
When you need to be paid,
But all you do is pay.
When you’re tired, but there’s no rest.
When you want to take a break,
But you know you must keep moving,
There’s a life that you must make.
That is when you take a stock,
And wonder if it’s right,
The path that you have chosen,
Is more cross country run than flight.

Worms and insects.

I am undone inside.
Gone are the knots.
Left is the tangle,
Crushed forget-me-nots.
Memories, once treasured,
Tainted and then trampled.
Never was it real,
The dream of which I sampled.
I am undone inside,
The worms and insects play.
I don’t know about this life,
But today is not my day.

Not just me.

Today’s events made me uneasy.
I’m still shivering to my core.
This isn’t what I signed up for,
I expected less, if not more.
I still feel it in my stomach,
The stress, acid, the tension.
All these things happening,
By none that I can mention.
I need some space from this life, this tension.
I need to breathe deeply and just be.
I know it doesn’t work like that,
Because the world is not just me.

Every sinew.

I watch you moon,
In envy of your glow.
I watched you once before,
But little did I know,
That the grief that I was feeling,
Was beauty for it’s just cause,
And that grief would keep on calling,
But for less poetic wars.
I envy you your shine,
Whilst you’re tethered, whilst you’re reined.
How do you retain beauty,
When every sinew of life is strained.

To frost.

When you know it’s just a moment,
And moments never last.  
It never is that long,
Until a moment is the past.
Life will change and change you.
Life will go in ways,
That you never expected.
There may be the darkest of days.
I wish them every happiness.  
The ones I had, and ones I lost.
I wish their hearts remain in fire,
Although my turned to frost.

The wedge.

It is tiring, draining,
Living on this edge.
The longer we are like this,
Further driven is the wedge.
I seemed to hold more positive,
Thoughts in these past times,
Perhaps just better coping,
Or moods turning on dimes,
But I feel I miss them,
Or what let them lift.  
In these times of fear,
They felt like a gift.

Accepting and moving.

Triggered and then angered.
A truly heady mix.
A candle burnt at both ends.
You can longer see the wicks.
So much expectation,
So much disregard.
Accepting and moving past,
Seems suddenly so hard.

This way.

A wish? To not have either,
My tired eyes, or my tired mind.
Why is it that it’s to others,
That I am most kind.
I would tell them not to worry,
That tomorrow’s another day,
But these are not the things,
That I hear my mind say.
Those things are tired for a reason,
They have their thing to say,
I am trying to listen,
But know I’ve always been this way.

Quietly led.

I don’t quite know where to place myself,
Amidst this world that’s shifting.
I’m trying to find something to grasp,
To stop me from just drifting.
There isn’t time to think right now,
But that’s better than to dwell.
Encouraging my mind to mull it through,
Would be no less than hell.
So I’ll go on, not quite knowing,
My place or my goal.
I’ll just keep being me,
Being quietly led by soul.

Rose.

It could be wasted time,
But could just be what I need.
The plant cannot grow,
Without being first the resting seed.
It cannot last forever,
This moment just at pause,
But I felt I needed a moment,
Before I grew my thorns and rose.

It’s right.

Sometimes in your darkest hours,
You start to find yourself.
Your focus is the moment,
The future’s not clear upon that shelf.
There is no use in wondering,
Or preparing for the worst.
Life has been taken from your hands,
Your bubble’s already burst.
You only need to focus on the now,
What’s known and next to come.
You focus on the priority,
And it’s right that she’s the one.

Jarred.

Once again plans fall to the wayside.
Too much to do and not enough time.
Not enough energy,
To make it past the line.
Now it will spill over,
In to another day.
I have the best intentions,
But life gets in the way.
You know what you want to do,
But responsibilities exist.
You want to honour the chance you were given,
After the jarring twist.
Life does not allow for perfect timing.
Random means things can prove hard,
But I want to meet the challenge,
Though my soul was knocked and jarred.

Wayside.

When life is rushing past,
And you have no time to think,
It can burn you out,
But can also save you from the brink.
You have to pick priorities,
And put the other stuff in it’s place.
Life is about the important things,
When it becomes a race.
It helps you make decisions,
You would otherwise not want to make.
You focus on the real,
And by the wayside falls the fake.

Snippets of sun.

When one world crashes,
Another emerges.
Not fully developed,
But driven by urges.
Starting to root,
Even if not flower,
Maybe hiding in shade,
And shivering in shower,
But relaxing, rejoicing,
In snippets of sun.
Feeling like there’s a chance,
A new time has begun.

Make judgements.

This tiredness is controlling,
Withholding all my plans.
I have the best intentions,
But my eye lids will not wait for them.
My eye lids want to close,
And are dictating to my mind,
What my life will be.
They demand to tell me,
What they think of my priorities,
My choices,
And my expectations of myself.
My eyelids have the control,
Right now.
I do not like it,
But they so strongly do not agree with me,
Do not trust my decisions,
That they have taken the keys,
For the evening shift.
So life, and responsibilities,
Will have to wait ‘til morning.
When the eyelids will stutter,
Will ride with a judder,
And make judgements on the new day.

Bind.

A little inspiration,
Can carry me a way.
Caught up in a wave,
I power through the day.
So useful to be lost,
In thoughts of a different kind.
Of promise and of growth,
And not dark ties that bind.

Not by me.

There’d been something rising from the new rhythmn,
But if course it couldn’t last.
The ground is not safe enough below us.
There are heavy feet on glass.
I have tried to live just in the moment,
Milk the joy I get to see,
And although that sure is helping,
Our lives are not controlled by me.

The beyond.

If there’s one thing that this has taught me,
Is that now is all we own.
This moment might be everything.
We don’t know what seeds were sown.
We have no control over others,
Though their actions ripple our pond.
I can only hold you close, my girl,
And fight any threats from the beyond.

My core.

When you’ve stepped out of the immediate fire,
But you’re still singed and it’s still burning,
You want to hide from others.
Some things, you don’t want them learning.
Some things you want to keep,
Away from prying eyes.
The problem is, some of us,
Are not masters of disguise.
Some souls can not do pretense,
We weren’t born, or raised, that way.
I want to always be that person.
I want my core to stay.

Real life game.

When you’ve put in to words,
What you felt that you must say,
But then towards the end,
You want to hold the moment at bay.
You want to go in pretending,
That there isn’t something there.
That your life is just as normal,
Or you do not have a care.
A real life game of, ‘lets pretend’.
Hiding in plain sight.
You want to keep the secret,
But you fear it is not right.

Seep.

I knew that it would turn,
Turn up, and rear it’s head.
I knew that one way or another,
Fears would be placed inside my head.
One way or another,
The feelings would have to spill.
They will still find a way to seep,
When you’re trying to be still.

A point.

Here, in a safe place.
Snuggled and warm.
Precious moments,
Away from the storm,
But my mind is swirling.
My mind will not rest.
I have reached a point,
Where I don’t know what’s best.

The near.

She is lost without it,
Because her only life's within.
There is nothing for her outside.
All she sees is toughened ski.
She sits there in her solitude,
Amongst those who should be dear.
All it shows her heart,
Is that they are just ‘the near’.