Queen bee.

It appears there is a limit,
On my calm and my composure.
I am clearly holding grudges,
And can not have achieved closure.
My hackles rise, my shoulders tense,
There are butterflies within me.
I become on edge with everyone,
And sting like a wounded queen bee.

Yet.

Some days start tough but help you realise,
That your heart still holds a dream.
You're just not there, or moving either,
But that's just 'cause you lost steam.
It's ok to take a dream break,
It's fine to take a pause.
You might not have it yet,
But it doesn't mean it can't be yours.

Tired soul.

It's not a day to react.
It's not a day to make decisions.
My heart is bruised and a little fractured.
All I can think of is divisions.
It's a day to push on through,
'Til another one arrives.
I need to find the place,
In which my tired soul thrives.

Patch the hole.

Some days,
Your tethers end is remarkably near.
You can't fight the grey cloud,
Or impending tear.
You need to just let loose,
The pain from your soul.
You hope that by clearing out,
You can patch over the hole.

Quick wilt.

I am harshest when my heart has fear,
And the greatest fear's for you.
When my heart should be healing you,
My fear for you drives through.
If there was a case you could love too much,
Then you would be my guilt.
My fear for you, is the easiest thing,
To make my strength quick wilt.
Yet for you I take a deep breath,
And drag whatever is left deep.
For you I'll do whatever's needed,
For your safety and happiness to keep.

Rusted.

Don't blame me for not affording trust.
Blame the person who can not be trusted.
Whatever shiny metal once shown,
Was left in tha rain and rusted.

I despise.

There is no fear like motherhood.
I did not know fear 'til I knew you.
Each and every day,
There is something new.
My heart drops to my stomach,
The bike it wants to rise.
The love is beyond perfection.
The fear for you, I despise.