Your voice.

When it feels like they control you,
Even though you have a ‘choice’,
That is when you know,
You’ve lost the power,
Of your voice.

Bare bone.

I will hide here,
In my terrifying fear.
Do just the bare bone,
And be left alone.

Disappointed clown.

So many weeks of waiting,
Yet every day I hope for change.
I am fighting with my hope.
A situation, strange.
I want it, don’t want to lose it,
 It find it lets me down.
I wake every morning,
A disappointed clown.

To be through.

I mourn for me.
I mourn for you.
I am more than ready,
For this to be through.

From either.

There is no escape,
From either truth or pain.
It will be there in the morning,
For it all to start again.

And your fears.

It only takes one trigger,
But reparations can take years.
Nothing is as strong,
As your memory,
And your fears.

Ongoing curves

Back steps break the spirit.
Back steps break the nerves.
Sometimes life is a series,
Of ongoing curves.

To live.

I am not in a space to be a friend.
That says something for my life.
I have always been the friend,
The carer, rescuer, wife.
I am not a friend to myself right now,
And that’s just how it is.
The focus is on the priority.
That’s my right way to live.

Time to grieve.

Support you cannot accept.
Love you cannot receive.
This is what life is right now.
Now is the time to grieve.

spine.

What is selfish,
When is selfish,
When you stop,
And draw the line?
When you’ve given all,
And Always,
When,
Are you allowed a spine?

Never whole.

Without the pause,
You can’t consolidate,
And it becomes,
A fractured state.
You become,
A fractured soul.
Ever trying,
But never whole.

Where only.

The hard days.
When you see no way forward,
Or out.
You know things aren’t right,
No question or doubt.
The hard days.
These days,
Another trial of fire.
Where only surviving,
It’s whats left to inspire.

Just woken.

When it’s all collapsed,
And you’re feeling broken,
Close you eyes and focus on,
The time when you’ve just woken.

Price paid.

Hope and expectation,
Weapons of cruel torment.
This is not what I envisaged,
This is not our time well spent.
This is trial by fire,
This is trial by fear.
I need this to be over.
The price paid has been too dear.

When.

When does it stop?
When do s it end?
When can I return?
When can I be a friend?

Release.

Trying, ever trying.
Never reach the peace.
Is this what they talk of,
When they focus on release?

Gaping hole.

Unintended consequences,
Of trying to do your best,
Are a pain that hurts a little more,
And can’t leave your mind at rest.
Waiting for those consequences,
Sits heavy on your soul.
It tears at your stomach lining,
And leaves a gaping hole.

Sold

The theory,
That you don’t need to care,
Of others opinions and thought,
Is not meant for people like me,
Whose life has been sold by others,
And cannot ever be re-bought.

Intended.

Not what I wanted.
Not who I intended.
Hoping on a future,
Where joy is not pretended.

Overwhelm.

Though it keeps on raining,
And I’m heavier than expected,
I have to keep on moving,
I can’t bare she feel rejected.
I’d love to hide until it’s over,
But that’s within my realm.
I am the tower, however crumbly,
However much life may overwhelm.

Look back.

Here we go again.
On and on and on.
Another test, and another incident,
Until your strength is gone.
Waiting for a ride to turn.
Holding out for some reprieve.
Hoping to reach a point,
Where I can look back and grieve.

The burr.

When in the midst of hard days,
Just let them occur.
Just keep facing forward,
And try to remove the burr.  

Doesn’t stop.

Life.
Cruel.  Kind.  Cruel again.
I count my blessings,
But it doesn’t stop pain.

This bruise.

Disaster zone.
Stand clear.
Enter only,
If you have no fear.
Enter only,
If you’ve nothing to lose.
That’s not her,
So she carries that bruise.

Silence.

Silence,
Because there is nothing more to say.
Silence,
Because nothing you hear will change things.
Silence.

Only breath.

I can offer no words of wisdom.
No wise words are left.
I have only breath to offer,
My love, and a soul bereft.

I see it.

I see myself. 

I see it.  

I know.  

I may not like it, 

But I chose to give myself grace.  

Today I give myself grace.  

A range.

Time passes,
But not our love.
Times change,
We change and change.

Life happens,
And shifts our love,
Our love,
Becomes a range.

For you. For me.

Will there ever be a time,
When she isn’t  harried?
When all the worries have resolved,
From all the baggage carried?
Will there be deep breaths of peace,
And smiles of unfettered glee?
I want it for you.
I want it for me.