Shadow

When the message comes from the shadow
From the antithesis, from your fear,
How do you respond?
How do you fight the tears?

When they’ve taken your voice and your hope
By ignoring the plea and your tears
How do you respond?
And hide your fear?

When they ignored your statement of “no”
By taking what they felt they were owed
How do you respond?
To the shadow gripping your soul?
When they know you were in their control
And you were too scared, you couldn’t just go
How do you respond?

To the shadow that saw ‘yes’ in ‘no’?
When the shadow imposes on your future
When you thought they were in your past
How do you respond?
Was ‘moving on’ too good to last?

When the shadow takes over your mind
The shadow haunts your every breath
How do you respond?
When your predator sends you a text?

When your shadow refuses to hide,
And you’re tearing your heart up inside,
How do you respond
When you have hidden this part of your life?
So this shadow, this vulture, this ghost,
Who you trusted, when you were vulnerable and lost
How do you respond?
When you are fully aware of the cost?

Fear.
Hope.
Loss.

No.

I said no. You chose yes.

And my shadow,
Puts me to the test.

No

When I said no
You heard a challenge
Even though I told you
Of my fear of the damage
When I cried and left
You saw a chance

Even though I told you
That I’m done with this dance

When I said no
With fear, unstable
You abused your power
Knowing I was vulnerable
When I said no
It wasn’t in grey
But somehow feels ambiguous
In the cold light of day
But I was complicit
I also took part

So with shame in my voice
My expression is through art

Silence

A silence so heavy and hollow
It can wrap it’s fingers around your heart
Reaching through the inner shouts
And tormented voices
A silence so thick and empty
It can wrap itself around your mind
Reaching through to highlight the doubts
And question all your choices
The difference between lonely and alone
Is that silence you feel when all voices are gone
It’s that intrinsic belief you will always be one
The isolation is in your bones, as this heart-gripping silence becomes your home

Drifting

Sometimes it’s the small things
The beat
The moment
The suspension of attention
When a screen is more interesting than you
When the laugh is somehow disconnected
The look is skips a beat and no longer lingers
When the fondness is still there but distracted
And those small things
Combined with a name
A glance at the wrong moment
Hold your breath
Feel the kiss
And then the truth

Continue reading “Drifting”

Bad timing

It was just bad timing
As you always said it was
When we fell, when we met
When you left, I was bereft

It was just bad timing
As you always knew it was
When we kissed, when we fell
When I lost myself, heartbroken hell

Bad timing
Syncopated love
Taken in stolen seconds
Shared in vain
Bad timing
Syncopated hearts
Loving in moments
Left in pain

Continue reading “Bad timing”

For all to see

Just an image that came to me when listening to Nightwish ‘Meadows of heaven’ and a poem that followed.

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Heartbreak cascaded through her,
She saw it
Black as night
Was it just in her reflection?
It was, she was sure,
She wipes her eyes
Frantic, afraid
Her hands tremble
As if her tears, tore through her,
Wearing tracks;
And leaving ghosts
For all to see,
Or just for me?

Voracious (#MSPoetry)

Her love, her desire, her loneliness –
Unquestionably voracious –
A life in extremes.
The darkness;
Such a fight.
The highs;
Such delight.
In an empty world –
On an empty stage –
The moon illuminates her tears
As her mind races,
Her eyes darting veraciously
Through the solid darkness.
Searching.
Her mouth forms words
Too timid to say.
Silence.
But there’s passion,
A hunger for hope;
A desire for something better,
In the moonlight,
Alone, lost, and scared,
But with hope,
And the beauty of the night,
She finds herself;
A voracious dreamer.

Ol’Father time

A poem about being acutely aware of time, all the moments passing

It’s a rhythm, a beat, a subtle intrusion,
It’s permanent, present and an illusion.

Whether silent or shouting, time speaks in my tongue,
If you’re watching or not it’s a siren’s song,
That calls and calls in cascaded clicks,
With dulcet tones if the hour permits.

Hypnotically absent, but every where in your mind
Unavoidable awareness of each moment in time.

The hands spin round drawing in my thoughts,
I feel him near, in this space of mine
Turning in my mind with barely a pause,
I can hear him always, Ol’father time.

Continue reading “Ol’Father time”

White space

Free-written poetry, survival through moments of depression and the hope of escape as life resumes.

The white-space.
Pain just seemed to happen to her she felt nothing. It was part of the process, part of the cycle,
Just something to endure.
Where words failed and help too distant.
When the fear overwhelms and invades all senses,

Continue reading “White space”