Categories
Poetry

Everything Will Be Alright

Hush.

Close your eyes.

Breathe.

It’s alright.

Everything will be alright.

Categories
Healing

Escaping

I never did stop escaping. A sensitive little girl, a face and a voice unkind: I escaped. I never did stop escaping.

*

I am safe and loved in this place in the sky. I am safe. And I am loved, so loved, without a thought, without a care. I am me, and this is the sky. We are here. We are here.

*

I never did stop escaping. All around the children played. They showed me their world, and I made it what I needed it to be. I made it magic and I made it kind. They didn’t know their world was magic and kind. I did. I knew.

*

This is where my real friends live, where my heart lives. I can make the world what I wish it to be, here. The unkind of the outside feels like ice on my skin. I wish only for sun. I ask only for sun.

*

I never did stop escaping. They called me names, they spat on me, and for those moments I was there. But I never did stop escaping. I never did stop escaping.

*

This is where I am. This is me, so beautifully. The deepest ocean, the saddest stream. This is where I am.

*

I never did stop escaping.

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Categories
Poetry

Reality

Reality strikes hard, sometimes.

The pain.

The pain of others: it tears me to the bone.

The delicacy of life, its precious petals.

It all aches within this lithe human frame of mine.

Cold impermanence.

Startling truth.

Fragile life.

Sometimes it tears us.

And I know you don’t want to,

but let yourself see:

sometimes it tears us.

I will hold you when it tears you.

I will hold you.

I will hold you.

Categories
Poetry

Burn

You will not singe me, more.

You will not burn me,

never another day.

And I know this is me:

a child who clings to life

within the depths of an ancient fire.

And I know this is me:

still aching from the searing

wilderness of you.

And I know this anger roars

like a storm in my centre,

and I know

and I know this.

I know.

I must allow the burn

to release me from your grip.

Categories
Poetry

A Quiet Day

Today my heart is quiet.

And it knows deeply

that it has lived.

Categories
Poetry

Muddy Waters

Muddy waters are pure

beneath the mud.

Photo by JACK REDGATE on Pexels.com

Categories
Poetry

Open. Release.

But did they give you a box of darkness?

Or was the darkness

already inside of you.

Waiting for someone to press:

open.

And release.

Categories
Poetry

These Tears

Do these tears make you

uncomfortable?

How about

this:

does the rain make you

uncomfortable?

The sky

is not afraid to rain, and I

am not afraid to cry.

I am not afraid of what you’ll

think

of me if I cry. Just as I am not

afraid

of what you’ll think of me if

I sneeze.

Or laugh.

Or breathe.

Categories
Poetry

Frozen In Time

Winter in my eyes,

the warm river of me

slowly

ceases to flow.

Frozen in time,

with only the memory

of two hearts spinning

into one

sweet

love.

Categories
Musings

In-between

I’ve just read a friend’s blog post.

It’s broken me in half, completely stripped my soul bare.

It was about that very raw and real human conundrum: that invisible place between here and there.

That pristine place that almost exits, but doesn’t quite, and maybe never will.

That place in-between— it aches of unattainable knowing.

It is the fire that the phoenix rises from, before flying into the sunshine of a beautiful new day.

It feels so scary, to be here in this place in-between.

Do any of us ever know what’s on the other side of the flames?

No. 

Maybe that’s what makes this place feel so raw.

So truly achingly real.

Humanity.

What the bloody hell do you do to me?

woman sitting on floor while leaning on chair
Photo by Julia Mouru00e3o Missagia on Pexels.com