This pace.

With every day that passes,
We drift further away.
You could call it independence,
But it was not meant to be this way.
I am grateful for her ability,
To handle the changes with grace.
It just wasn’t supposed to be like this,
And not at this pace.

Most painful.

I feel like life punishes you,
For trying to do what’s right.
I am trying so hard,
Consumed by an internal fight.
In the midst of taking care,
You can often make hints worse.
Is trying too hard,
The most painful curse?

Is that how?

Does one mistake,
Make you lapse on others?
Is that how it begins?
Does one error of judgement,
In a moment,
Open the snicket to sins?
Do little sins change your mindset?
Do they alter the shade of your heart?
Do they push it wider for darkness?
Is that how these things start?

Double check.

When you have a feeling,
That you’ve just been played.
A marionette with strings.
For the peace, for the ease,
You want to smooth the wings.
These things I must notice.
These things I must double check.
For I will not be at your bidding.
Not ever, not in heck.

Every test.

It shows that I am human,
And that we all can fall and break?
Yet the look on her face,
Is a bitter pill to take.
I wish this wasn’t how it is.
I always wish for her the best.
My instinct will always be to protect her.  I’m
I will keep taking every test.

One big lie.

She worries about the possibilities,
Because she know things can get worse.
She knows what it’s like to live,
Like you’ve been hit by a undeserved curse.
Don’t tell her that it’s unlikely,
She knows those things happen too.
Don’t tell her she worries for nothing,
Because bolts hurt more when they’re out of the blue.
Don’t tell her it’ll all be fine.
She knows that’s just one big lie.
She’s here in the midst of Salem.
This woman is refusing to die.

Fibre

When,
The strangest things can topple you over.
The straw.
And the camels back.
Carrying,
The weight of the world on your shoulders,
Til you find a fibre you lack.

When it’s through.

Illness,
Can refocus the mind.
St lest that’s,
My find.
When I’m empty, broken,
Running low,
You cut back,
And begin to show,
What you need,
What helps you get though,
And what you dream of doing,
When the illness is through.

To cope.

Send in a saviour.
You’ve sent in the clowns,
You’ve sent in the devils,
The dragging you down’s.
For years I have maintained,
I need only be me,
But am quickly finding,
That’s pure naïveté.
So send in a lifeline,
Thrown out a rope.
My body’s too tired,
From wielding its strength to cope.

Pendulum swing.

I can be my own worst enemy.
With my worries and my fears,
But they have got me to this point,
And may take me on for years.
I wish I were slightly altered,
But am proud of how these nails have clung.
Carefree was for the other me,
Before the pendulum swung.

To lurch.

One, two,
Three, four?
How many things,
Are to knock at my door?
How many obstacles,
Blighting my day,
Thrown in the path,
Getting in the way,
Of peace, of simple happiness,
Without having to search.
Oh to glide,
And to no have to lurch.

Teetering.

I have lost the concept,
Of what went well.
It’s a consequence,
Of my time in hell.
Teetering on the edges,
By the path to pain.
Hoping that there’ll be a time,
When my life is mine again.

Sore shoulders.

The weight you carry,
Gets greater every year.
There’s something about life,
And holding people dear.
The weight which I carry,
Leaves my heart and shoulders sore,
But that are some pains in life,
You cannot hide from or ignore.

Scarred.

Doing the hard things,
Doesn’t stop them being hard.
It doesn’t stop the feeling,
That their heart is scarred.

For others.

Twisted, cracked, broken, fallen.
Laying on the ground.
Beautiful, despite its fate.
Moss covered mound.
I see it and I see myself.
Strange, but strong, the feeling.
No more growth, yet life for others.
A thought that’s left me reeling.

My rhyme.

Left to my devices,
Changes would occur.
With a moments peace,
Energies spur.
I remember how I was,
And what took my time.
These things I miss, small but true.  
Yet at least I kept my rhyme.

Resurface.

Today feels like the dark stars,
Have started to collide.
I can feel them looming,
And there is no place to hide.
They are much too strong to hold back.  
My attempts they feel in vain.
Together they outweigh my hope,
And resurface all the pain.

If it were not for you.

My two minutes of space,
Begin to flood with fear,
Of what will happen next,
Of what is to appear.
Every deep breath counteracted,
By some thing thrown my way.
If it were not for you, my love,
I’m not sure I’d stay.

Against a rip.

I do not know myself,
When I don’t have time to breathe.
I keep completing all the tasks,
Like there is no reprieve,
Yet it does not feel like progress,
More like swimming against a rip.
Am I achieving something here,
Or just letting myself slip?
Is this all part of the process,
Or just an errand for a fool?
Am I heading on and upwards,
Or just someone else’s stool.

Becoming free.

As I try to force an answer,
I realise it isn’t required.
The need to keep on moving,
Is a response to being tired.
I don’t need to feed the machine,
If it isn’t feeding me.
This isn’t about the hamster wheel,
It’s about becoming free.

Shuffled order.

Listening to your words,
Your heart, your face.
This is the afternoon,
I shift the space.
A new routine,
A new shuffled order.
Nudge just slightly,
Draw a stronger border.
Listen to my feelings,
But hear your heart.
With you when with you,
Organised when apart.

Locus.

When people need to be the priority,
Then routines and systems slip.
It’s a choice to touch a heart,
Not a failure or a slip.
Something missing but no so missed,
Versus a soul that felt the focus.
Perhaps a little rethink,
A slightly amended locus.

This spell.

When it makes sense,
That you’re not enough,
But it still hurts like hell.
More that they are feeling it,
In this unfair time,
This spell.

When you want to fix the world,
But you are only you.
When you want to paint a rainbow,
But the sky will not turn blue.

When you’re given,
The painful wake up call.
That your focus has quietly shifted.  
The guilt is something else,
But the self indulgent cloud?
It’s lifted.  

The wind.

The wind has changed direction.
Only slightly, but still,
I can feel the air change in my lungs,
And saw some dust blow from the sill.
The window is still murky,
But a little clearer than before.
I can see a chunk of light,
Through a crack in this heavy door.

Again?

When you feel a door closing,
Do you choose to let it shut?
Do you fight to keep it open?
The efforts it took to put,
The seeds in the ground,
Is that wasted, gone?
Should you fight,
To keep it rolling on?
Recoup that investment,
And the blood on the frame,
Or do you take it as a sign,
And start fresh again?

Castle falls.

A hanging fear of judgement.
The butterflies inside.
Concerned your best won’t cut it,
No matter how hard you’ve tried.
Spinning too many plates,
Juggling too many balls.
Knowing it’s only time,
Before the castle falls.

Shift.

Reassessing what has purpose,
In a state of grief,
Is not as easy as you would think.
It’s not mental relief.
Considering what brings joy,
Can be torture, not a gift.
Letting go of what you imagined,
Is not an easy shift.

My Us.

Hope,
Fear,
And worry,
Steer.
They drive,
They break.
They insert,
They take.
I want Us
My Us.
Happy, safe,
Free.

Never truly.

I am craving temporary solitude,
A time of mental peace.
I don’t want to lose this.
I just need to pause, release.
Sometimes the cloth is heavy,
And I can’t always be switched on.
Believe me, I am grateful,
I could not bare if this were gone,
But I need a moments rest.
I need my mind to clear.
If it doesn’t, it just means,
I’m never truly here.

The lessons.

I am hiding here,
Because I don’t want,
My broken heart to show.
I am in a moment,
Where I understand,
But do not want to know.
I am hiding here,
Because I want,
You heart to ‘for’er be free.
I want you to learn,
The lessons,
Without having to be me.

Too loud.

When you’re overwhelmed,
By what your heart has to say.
You shudder with knowledge,
And are reluctant to stay.
You want to go, hide.
You need time to think,
To understand what is swirling,
Before it starts to sink.
The fluttering feelings,
Are too loud in you chest.
You need to retreat.
You need time to rest.