Walls of hope
You were determined to not be temporary. I’ll give you that.
While I was doggedly, “we’ll see”, you knew we would be something more.
I scorned your innocence, while also being jealous to the core.
I fled in fear. It was too easy. And I absolutely wouldn’t let you in without a fight.
But you did. And you did. And oh how my walls crumbled. Slowly to begin but then every last stone came down.
Nothing temporary now. I hope.
Together we rebuilt these walls with love and promises and visions of our future.
Fear still lingers, licking at the edges - to be expected - but now we are safe inside our rebuilt walls. Together we keep the demons at bay.
It was a flicker in the darkness.
That was all.
As I lay cold and unfeeling,
the perpetual inkiness kept itself
closed tightly around me.
I hung on though.
Waiting to see it again.
There it was! Shining bright and
then gone. Vanished.
But the halo of its memory
remained. Burnt into my vision.
Slowly, I crawled towards its ghost and waited.
The flicker came again. This time I was
ready to be engulfed.
Struggling over the words to place side by side to express emotion.
She’s torn by conflicted feelings.
A smattering of happiness dapples over the dark shadow of anxiety that sits with her.
Waiting for the cloud to pass is a never ending story, so it seems.
Yet time keeps ticking and plans keep being made. And broken. Forgotten. Hidden.
Self love. Self worth. Self growth.
All of these things she aims to achieve and strive for, yet she doesn’t know how.
What is the purpose of it all? She asked once, hoping for an epiphany.
Friends. Family. Love. Came the reply.
But it all sounded so feeble to her lonely, lost heart.
Like this poem, she is a muddle. A confuddled confusion of everything combined together in an attempt to try and understand the world she finds herself in.
It isn’t your world. It isn’t the world her parents expected for her. It isn’t even the world she woke up in last week. She’s changed a few times since then, you see.
Yet, despite what she expected, she’s still here.
Still hoping and trying to untangle the web of silly string that is her life.
And, more importantly (probably), still hoping and trying to make it joyous along the way.
Hope. She still clings to it. (Thank god.) For hope is her life-raft in this turbulent, fucked up sea.
Oh, and she? She is me.
Dead in the water
"You wont find love in someone else until your love yourself." She told me quietly; believing it to be true.
"Are you fucking joking?" Came my venomous, spiteful reply. "How can you believe that to be true? I have never loved myself - not once. I have never found in myself anything truly worth loving. But I love hard. And long. And desperately. And with everything I have." I gasped then; laughed, bitterly. "If that's true, I am dead in the water. A goner. A waster. Because I have never loved myself. But him? Oh, him. I loved him with all of my being. And I can't do that again for nothing. Not ever."
Sorry, not sorry
The apology slips from my mouth
before I can stop it.
I bite my bottom lip with frustration.
I'm not sorry.
Yet I have this inherent need
to tell you I am. Because you
can't dislike me. Or think I'm crazy.
Crazy. The crazy scale.
Where I feature at about a 7 out of 10....
But what makes me crazy?
A deep-routed need for validation.
Is that crazy? Or just circumstance.
Just a need for you to understand me.
Tell me straight. No games.
I've been lost in this maze for too long.
I'm tired of wandering.
These hairline cracks cause more
pain than gullies. When the damn
bursts we allow ourselves to be
washed away and we mourn.
But the smallest pin prick of
rejection causes a chain
reaction. It's a terrible metaphor,
but our heart breaks.
It doesn't shatter; we're
protecting ourselves from that
Just a paper cut.
But it seeps into the chest and
resonates throughout our entire body.
An ache that hangs around
our heart and occupies our mind.
Wanting to shut the door on
wanting but afraid of missing what
stands on the other side.
A change in everything
I remember the day you began
following me outside,
to stand on the driveway and
wave goodbye until I was out of view.
No matter what the weather
you would stand there
- never any shoes -
and I would hang my arm
out of the window and
wave frantically until your
quivering lip disappeared.
Your eyes would follow me
around the corner, as I carried
your heart in my hands.
But all these years I knew,
I carried more fear than you.
You, I was told repeatedly,
when I called to check you were ok,
had recovered quickly.
Back to playing with your tea set;
reading your magazine;
texting your best friend;
fighting with your boyfriend...
But the fear followed me.
What if I left you, too, and your fear
- however seemingly fleeting, still there -
had been true?
What on earth would you do?
And now, I stand on the driveway
- feet bare -
and I wave goodbye to you,
until you are out of view.
And it's you who hangs from the
window waving frantically.
Although, you never quite
wait until I disappear, and
I see for a second what that
fearless life could be,
before I return indoors to wait on
the text that tells me you
made it safely.