I can feel her hands rest calmly on my shaking shoulders
The tension taking twists and turns under my skin
She softens the swirling subtleties of storms fluttering against my ribs
It’s a weightless warmth working itself into my breath, out and in
Who is she? She is you.
She is comfort, she is compassion, she is caring and she is kind
I can feel her arms reach around my shoulders
Each and every second elongated, encased in her energy
She stifles the screams that scratch and scurry through my blood
In a flicker of fondness, the furnace I’m fighting finally sets me free
Who is she? She is you.
She is a memory, she is a moment, she is magical and she is mine
…But all in all she is a personification of love, of feeling loved mid crisis, each and every time
Thank you, to each of you.
Sometimes the desire to run
Takes over from everything you love
The job, the family, the friends you have
will be lost, unforgotten, loved and yet, gone
As you acknowledge their kindness
But fail to see, how settled in their love
You can ever truly be
I want to run
I want to escape
Because the love I had
Won’t ever really be
The life I thought
Not the life I knew
Will my heart ever be
Truly free of you?
Continue reading “Run”
A poem about the realisation that it’ll be okay, overcoming heartbreak and anxiety with a best friend
Like a weight on my chest
Parroting my every thought
With ghosts of ‘What if?’
Sitting heavy on my thoughts
Mimicking my every move
With whispers of a myth
At my ribs with my heart
Echoing the panic
That’s hidden by a laugh
Over my tongue with clumsy
Repeats of ‘perhaps’
And the words from the past
Knotting my fingers together
As they search for safety
Hunting for something, just speak
Knitting my thoughts together
As they twist and turn
Hunting for something, just speak
In a whisper of a smile
As you lock eyes with me
As I remember what we had
Limping in retreat
As I miss you but love you
For your kindness I’m glad
Forty winks of peace
As your company comforts
And your laughter delights
Apprehension falls away
As I realise I don’t want you
But I Love you
It’s a small step back to life
A poem about acute empathy and sensitivity to others and the atmospheres/rooms you walk into
You’re too sensitive they said
As the words hurt and cut deep
Your too sensitive they said
As the echoes haunted my sleep
Too sensitive, man up, ignore it
Were the phrases to spur me on
But I grew to realise, almost too late
That their negative sensitive was wrong
So the words cut deep and the looks sliced through
But my being too sensitive makes each feeling new
A step into a familiar room
Like a leap into the unknown
Oppressive, warm or a hostile place
Even a strange one can feel home
Sensitive to atmosphere
And how others relate
Not comfortable in my own skin
It can turn to self hate
But it’s just the volume, the noise of the world
An a series of events that simultaneously unfurl
Continue reading “Empath”
A sketch Inspired by some meat loaf lyrics: ‘In your arms I think I’ve found the safest place to fall’
Sometimes there are moments
Where you feel you’re free falling, fast or slow,
Sometimes in those moments
You find a new hand that you can hold.
When you feel the most invisible
Feel absent, lost or disengaged,
In your disconnected haze you find
Comfort, unexpected, in a heart once estranged;
It’s like a new breath –
It’s like a jolt, like a flicker –
Something to keep holding on for,
As the fears and shadows wither.
A love that feels inevitable, but knowing it’s not right or possible; tangling with the conflict of emotions
Do I leave you behind, to be like memories I’ve known,
Because I can’t have you, because I’m alone.
If I tell you, you’ll be stuck, as I find myself now,
But between requited-unrequitedness,
and that solemn golden vow.
Jealousy tells my heart you are beautiful,
Desire tells my heart what’s more meaningful.
My heart with cautious delight says ‘go on’
I’m lost in your divinity, I’m lost in your song
But the pain says you’ll walk away
I’m lost in your talents,
you take my breath away
Honesty tells my heart you’re not right for me
Truth tells my heart that it will break, but it will be
Continue reading “Love, Juxtaposed”
A monologue; one of a Grand Guignol style production ‘Cabaret of Confessions’
Imagine this… to begin… Arson. Murder. Destruction. A child. Alone.
The empty shell of her home reflected in the tears in her eyes, we watch as they fall. The smell, the dry smell of the cinders as they dissolve into ash around her. Choking her… as she crouches. Half lit by the remaining flames. Flickering.
She reaches to her mother. Her body barely visible through the half-lit smoke. Motionless. The child fumbles forwards, hugging the corpse. Rocking. Sobbing. Her sister’s body lies near by, her father is no where to be seen.
Suddenly a near by mirror smashes in the heat… sending glass flying towards her. She screams in pain. We see her scream in pain… but her screams are silenced… drowned even, by the remaining flames as they destroy what is left.
Continue reading “Reflections”
A poem describing a connection to a loved one
Those breaths I hold tight when the happiness won’t come
Breaths I carry lightly when the dizziness follows me home
Those breaths I control when I want to take it all away
Breaths I can’t catch when my darkness breaks the day
Your words that shelter me from my thoughts and my fear
Words that take me away from shade and the edges I’m near
Your words that move me to feel free, light and escape again
Words that lift me and put perspective to my pain
Looks that hold me on the edge to keep myself here
Your looks that shoot down the sickness that feeds my fear
Looks that take me home and the worry that forces the mask
Your looks that keep me pretending to make this feeling last
Continue reading “True Friend”
This is quite what you might call a ‘raw’ poem about depression, As a woman loves, waits and holds on to her Partner through a tough day.
Published on Spillwords December 2016
So she sits.
We sit, together – but apart.
She waits and wonders if things will change.
Her disengagement from the world humble and acquiescent.
At peace with the turbulent thoughts that she stumbles through.
There is no time left to wonder or wander through time.
The heat of the passion which no longer burns was matched only by the furnace of ferocious fears which tore her apart inside.
We had waited. I always waited.
Waited, unaware of the pain she was in.
Continue reading “So she sits”