Wednesday, 24 September 2014

The Hidden Shades

Tipping stars into your glass, let's see you fill up with cheer and good feeling.
God only knows you've been looking for a change of the scenery. You can grab a paint brush and start with the ceiling. Brush out the cobwebs, let's get the view back in our lives. It might cost spoons, but elbow grease is a free commodity otherwise. Before we do the next room, we'll smash everything. Did you hear that it's therapeutic? Here's a bottle I filled with a societal oppression, whilst you may wish to really break this one into a million tiny pieces, could you possibly do it outside? We'll have none of that in here. But that's the bloody point, down and it comes hissing as the glass splinters and wisps of a quiet rage seep into all the hidden corners you never quite uncover.

Heaven, are you happier now? Excuse the backwards reference, you don't have to get them right to remind people of their significance. Maybe it's just trying to avoid the crippling economics of your lawsuit over mine in this cathedral of "laws and justice" who so rightfully uphold the peace and order. The claims court will have you for this. You shouldn't have let slip that you knew society was fucked. All you had to do was tap each clone on the shoulder, you'll know how awake they are instantly. How and not whether because we're creating a culture of many believing they practice what they preach when they remain so uninformed and refusing to open their open-closed eyes. Free your mind! 

Still, you look at the case and say to your lawyer, financially a mess - soulfully more intact than ever.

She's the mean scene queen, downing the pills and taking another swig from the bottle. Her laughter is her riff, whilst it shudders others about her wake. To give her credit, she at least speaks in absolutes where the rest of her life is a chaos of mystery. Rolling out the carpet, Entropy Queen, welcome home. She burnt black forevermore it - dropping a lit match, she never cared for that celebrity red anyway. The runway was set. Take off with no scheduled landing. This is how you go off the grid.

Can we ever escape this human condition?
Can we ever escape the mess we have made?
We continue to make.

A pause in this life!

What have we done? What have we done? What have we
This is so reminiscent of a breakdown.
Species: human, let me check you in. Your stay will be a minimum of 72 hours and whilst you are here you will be allowed no communications with any persons outside of our facility unless permitted by our head of staff. This will not happen. It has been brought to our attention that you are posing a danger to yourself, we'll take good care of you and ensure nothing happens. First swallow this -- what is it? Do not concern yourself, you will feel much more relaxed, that is once the nausea has worn off and you might go a little hazy. There you go, very good. Ah yes there you

And suddenly the camera is rolling again,
yesterday's news no longer relevant
that death no longer significant
we can try try try to make it
already moving on to the next injustice
we are so flawed
are we so flawed
do we so choose this
did the flaws pick us
maybe that's God's design
how about that
what do you make of this
lets be angry
lets br
Turn that fucking camera off the air n-..........................

Is it so tiring to be in and out of confusion. To tumble and not understand. To have to deal with every life event that presents itself to you.
I once heard a great writer's quote about the human condition which was along the lines of if there is one thing us humans surely are, we are truly resilient. We just survive in ways that surprise even ourselves. Despite everything that happens.

Still, are you not left wondering how true this statement is? What drives us forward? Selfishness, willing, kindness, rage or mindlessness. A many possibility belies this question. There is no answer. Not a singular one. We're too messy to be that organised. Surely.

I find myself more and more worried about the state of things. Things that are so much bigger. It pulls me into a deep sorrow that I do not shrug off, I don't know how to. I'm so sorry, there was such a determination to right something happy and it just descended into this. One last attempt to make you smile before the long walk home. Wear mittens, scarves and hats - you mustn't catch a cold. I will ask you no questions, nor you to me. Your sad ways are understood and no need to explain, just come bundle yourself here, we'll put warmth in those bones yet.
Let us just kiss like all those people do and forget ourselves a little longer. 
Fill yourself with the stars you are missing, feel more whole, perhaps.
Remember too, there is always goodness still.
Wherein love remains.

Friday, 5 September 2014


Anhedonia has overtaken. Old friend, supposedly. In love with our sadness, aren't we the sickos. Love let go, we told you so. Becoming pathetic, and we know it.

Take it all away. Take it.

Had it twisted, a mangled truth. That's not who I am. I damn the wish that I'd met you first.

Get to know me.
Do not become another person I have to censor my life to. There is joy in this. It starts with your arms. Come so close.

There should be more moments in which we feel so limitless. Ones where the world rushes by, even as you are standing still. How they will lift you up and your eyes swiftly roll back. You are lost and present in one small second. Sometimes it lasts longer. Oh, sensation! Your fingers are so light, soon realising that a tingling has spread all the way to the underside of your toes. Head spinning, pleasant syns. To be so supreme. Unending, the story goes on.

I want to discuss the world and the way there are so many problems. What are your solutions? Are you a fighter? Or do you not care that much? Where do you stand on the death of innocents by gunfire, is it who pulls the trigger or the weapon itself? I want to find out when sadness makes you tick. What it makes you feel. Not how or why. No one ever has to answer those, always a choice. Remind me of all the times we have walked hand in hand. Did you ever once regret it? Are you a believer in the fireworks that can erupt during kissing. Are you a believer in the magic of bonfire night itself, I ask myself if I could be with someone who didn't understand in my belief of that magic. Do you do everything with your whole being? Or would you believe that's living too much? Or not really living at all... I wonder at night the thoughts you think before you fall asleep. Do you go over just the past week or the whole year? Longer than that too, perhaps. Reminded of things you don't even remember living, not really. Do you believe that some nights can last forever? Have you ever thought about your dying, the thought of you not existing - not just for how that would be for others, but for yourself. Can you see the selfishness from both party lines? The city or great outdoors? Memories to me, apparent moments to you. Do you always want to stay the same or are you one to embrace change? If so, are you ever afraid you will change so much you aren't the same person you were happy with being. Or become a person you aren't proud of. Do you realise the importance of the person you love, being proud of you. And on that note what makes you proud of you. Is it the actions you do, your beliefs and opinions or the people you surround yourself with. Are you equally as proud as those around you, and are you sure that those people hold just as much love in their hearts? I like your thirst for knowledge. It seems to radiate from you, but so much so that I fall dumb when you ask me to pick your brain. I'm no vulture. I really have a thousand questions for you, they change all the time. So never worry, I won't run out. Just always answer yes, when I ask if you care. Because this, this is my ultimate saviour. Can you ever tell me that won't change? Would you tell me there were times when you would have truly believed that but no longer feel you can. Are you standing fast against the storm, determined anyway?

"..made from the sun you are, oh what a star you are.."

No longer the voice remains, fragments of laughter and snippets of words. I cannot make out the sound of your voice on our treasured 'three little words'. It is gone. Collapsing smiles from half moments linger. Have you chosen to release me without my own consent? To just no longer exist. Nothing dramatic you see, just a disappearance. To you, to everyone. You are fading, you are.

I suppose find peace, my love. Off to sleep now, dear heart, the stars are calling you home.

Monday, 26 May 2014

Late Night Tales

A confusion. But a word of advice;

It is often best to question the way a question is asking itself to be revealed, against fears of misinterpreting its meaning, especially without intonation for clarity.

Shall we begin?

"I guess it's not like they'd come up in everyday conversation/are known about. For that I am glad."

It's that music, 3:03 minutes of heaven and hell all mixed into one. Instantly buzzed, this synesthesia both seductress and enemy. I am addicted to that feeling. To the tequila nights. To the ones no one really understands but me. Give me your spectrum, colouring it right. Wearing our warpaint, smeared cheeks rouge.

"I guess it's very twisted. There are certainly blocks in my mind. They are so strong I can't sometimes believe that what I know is real."

That strange girl who is quiet in the day and louder in the night. Kissing girls on balconies, as she kisses my neck I see the stars floating down in the gutter. Every building clad in silks of all colours, even the ones that you don't know exist - quintalca my favourite. Screwing up her life as she pulls the gruff and scratchy face of her superior closer to look him in the eyes. Returning the kiss that tasted as foul as its morality, and as bad as if he'd never done it before.  

"I'm scared in some respects that it isn't, because what kind of person would make up shit like that/this? And if that was me, then who the hell am I/what am I?"

My body becomes not my own. I am finally in rhythm. I am so in sync. I am that extra one (five) shot. Make it good, make it count. I am your godly queen, terrifying and amazing for those felt hours. Under or between the sheets? Deciding positionality is always part of a much deeper game. We sleep in hiding and comfort, a rest bite for the hours that will shortly present themselves. Unwelcome gifts, but you are amongst the land of the living. 3:34 minutes for the mission to last another night.

Where sleep should find you the rebound of sound does. An internal scream that lasts and lasts. Ear to ear. Back and forth. And so they can't possibly. I am in the corner, mine sweeping and blinded by the strobes. Pushed against the wall and ferocious. The name of the last drink forgotten. Last guy that grabbed me, blood on hand, must've not agreed with the advance of that walk of life. Words in ear. The slow motion of the friend that uses her fists where statements can't be heard over the deafening vacuum around us. Grabbed hands and dancing in hell's heels.

There's so much new stuff to do. So much crazy shit. I can't wait. And so sometimes I need this back in my life so desperately.

"That alone makes me not think about this much at all. Not fear that it would happen again."

Months on.

"Things are no good still, I am no good of late. In spite of this I have not felt like writing here - somewhat deliberately.
However, what inspired me to write today was a chance peace in my view of the full moon over a rooftop - cloudy sky, except for that one path of my vision to its light. How magnificent it looked. How deep its shadowed surface. How radiant it stands amidst a blackened sky. Swallowed whole and refusing to move all at once.
It gave me briefly, but whole minutes (of two), to just be in awe of its beauty and there was nothing else.
To think that it is a rock, in space, so far away. That has been travelled to and marvelled at by millions and millions at some point or any other. I share that sky with him. How lucky am I?"

Friday, 25 April 2014

No Light

There seems to be a theme in many stories that you don't turn around, don't look back, keep on walking. Especially near the ending, when the ends are being tied up and presented as neat little bows to the reader. It's the story's end after all, not a dress rehearsal. I want someone to walk away and then turn around, expecting to see me standing and watching, only to see I'm walking the opposite direction. Far away, each step, I go. They want to say a final finality. And just when they blink, or open their lips, suddenly I'm gone. Vanished.

But the sad truth is I don't believe that there is any place I could go to escape this. No place where I won't carry my stories with me. Often I am comfortable with that, sometimes I'd even go as far to say I was comforted by it. What made me, melded me, sculpted me, carried upon my shoulders. But that is not now.

I feel tired.

I feel haunted.

I feel frightened by happiness, and its side effects.

There is no love in the rain that falls from the skies today, when it used to be my favourite reminder.
Is there sun after the rain? Perhaps. But the thunder is more troublesome thereafter.

There are wisps of steam rising from houses and, watching I see, it throws itself so carelessly out into the wind. Like jumping onto moving carriages. All too quickly it has disappeared. Swallowed up into something greater. Ended.

But there is still a clinging hope. That won't let go.
Another truth? Some of the time, I let myself kind of wish it would. That honesty with myself, it stops me indulging it.

Sunday, 30 March 2014


Air of mystery clings to the greying fog that clouds your view on life perspectives. So, it is surely time to transport ourselves away from this colourless scene and to jump into something so warm and different. Away from the ominous HP Lovecraft. We'll say 'hip-hooray' for all the newness that is to follow. Where are we off to first my adventurous companion, there's far too much choice but we have to start somewhere.

First, let's set the table to the music of our hearts, a harmonica and a good beat that my fingers could never keep up for long. That's what friends are for, to keep the drum drumming when you have lost sense of the world around you. Is that a simple change of heart? Whatever the weather you'll be there, truer than ever. I can hear your constant strumming and as I close my eyes it soothes me in a way that I've not felt for a while. I can hear some laughter already, it looks to be a great time. Clattering of wooden chairs and the soft thud of cushions and floor rugs. There's a consistency in the blending of these sounds that is so marvellous it cannot be truly put into words, though any reader will know immediately what the writer is trying (badly but without a care!) to get at.

Now! Let us transform the weather. Whilst mystery can be exciting and snow can be fabulous and rain can fall fantastic (only to rehash one of my favourite lines). There is something about a warm, glowing hidden sunshine that is of a comfort so tender to our bodies and minds. It is too early to light the candles, but we will, we will get to that later I promise! I'm noticing all of you arriving, we're in our everyday lives and this is our time.

There's a lot of swirling around and a floppy hat obscuring vision as it swerves in time with the motion. A flash of red florals here and there. Flashes of golden enigma. Maybe a small caught corner smile. Catch her and kiss her, feel the softness of her lips and the taste of love that fills you up and sets you ready to go back on the road again. You don't have to go anywhere, but with her holding your hand you are unstoppable and more ready than before. This is no lust or greed, this is a breath of fresh air. Drink in deep and close your eyes as a clarity descends you that you didn't know you needed. Open up and the first thing that greets you, a smile. A good way to start the day.

I know I'm not supposed to indulge these maladaptions, but sometimes there is a beauty that is better than the present reality of life's is. "It's going to be just fine." I don't know how many hundreds of times I have said that to myself in the past few weeks. I think there's a power in the words not growing threadbare and loosing their potency. I want to go out and lie down, watching the stars with you. Just like you asked so very long ago, you said that's the best way to see them. Will you wake up to the sound of a beating heart? There's a closed book and an endless fountain of questioning cases, though let's keep the interrogation out of it. No 3rd degree required. We're not talking as much but I can still hear you. One of a few lights in the darkness of this lonely journey. Finding myself a little more, who am I.    

I've spent a lot of time considering how painful I find the many outlooks on love that are laid out in front of me. I let them wash over me, because I could not ever disagree so fervently about anything. There is a lot about being and a lot about seeing, even a lot about the self. My tales of daring and danger, they are not as dangerous as some of the hardship these other loves seems to bring. Perhaps it has a lot to do with contentment, not settling but just flowing like a breeze lifting the flowers heads in a gentle summertime transition. There is a real ethereal nature to my love, that is also so tangible and rock solid. Transcend this realm, taking my hand we will leave this place a little long while and be kept carefully in an expanse of inclined enchantment. Yes, it really is that easy. The threads of you are so beautiful. We are our own pattern. Interwoven and connected.   

Because love like this lasts more than forever. In knowing that I am home, still. 

Wednesday, 19 March 2014

In the Silence

I am snapped telephone lines, cut by the storm. Threatened by lightning and the outcome of disobedience.

I am the train pelting through the tunnel at one-hundred-miles-per-hour. No stops for anyone, the passengers learn to wait.

I am darkness in the night sky. Aided by the electronic sky line. Pollution to remind you that the stars are too good for what lurks here.

I am the sound in the wind, longing for you to listen. The silent scream that you convince yourself you 'didn't' hear.

I am the trap that lies in wait. Silent and deadly, tread lightly where you fall. I take prisoners with little mercy. I should tighten as you struggle to be free.

I am the ground that awaits and awakens the flash flood. Waiting for the rains to fall, ready to fulfil my natural purpose. Torrent released by the most innocent act of falling raindrops. I couldn't warn you beforehand, not that I tried.

I am the melting glacier. Falling apart for no apparent reasons, other than the ones staring you in the face. The facade of glitter blinding you to all that is twisted beneath; 'symptoms of soullessness'.

I am the red pen. The one that tells you, you are no good. You've failed. Try harder, though there is no promise of a next time.

I am the shadow that will always follow you. I will stand by whatever happens, bad or good. I have no judgement but also no conscious morality. Watching you will never and always be alone.

I am the nuee ardente. I will glow and shoot up to fine fascination. But I am deadly to all that I touch.

I am lost hope. I am no sun on a dark day.

I am nobody. I am the somebody stranger. The one you feel an unease around as soon as you arrive, but "who's going to believe you?"

I am the voice that keeps you up at night. Storing memories that are better left unsaid, but I load them and point them directly at your head.

I am the burning wreckage atop the mountain, or smashed into a million tiny pieces and sinking deeper, deeper to the bottom of the water. Graves that have no graces. No songs will be sung of honour and remembrance in this place.

I am the trees in the forest, who scare you, but I cannot help it. Misconstrued scarily, beautiful features are what set me apart from the ordinary of my competition. I cure your disease but only so few should bother to look at me twice.

I should choose to do nothing about the nothing that I can do. I cannot lead you astray, nor the right way. Will you forgive me, eternally so?

Waiting, just left here waiting in a silence so cold. Seasons will pass, leaves falling yet I will remain the same. Sat withered underneath. Should you choose to take up your promise and show me to love again, pick them off carefully by hand. One by one, we shall find our way back to before and the now.

Monday, 10 March 2014

If You Wait

To spindly legs, tip tapping, down a very long road - seeming at times to be the longest road in the world with all those houses (all 44 of them). Balmy air (our favourite) that fills the evening, the smell you can't find a name for but it is softly pleasant and fits the tone of what is ahead well. The canvas above us has not yet faded from the blue of the day, transporting us back to the beauty of the west and the excitement that can be in store for this evening sunset.

You're both a little nervous, it has been a while. A while from this. Months of crossing little violet X's on the calendar. They stood out in a way that was not as final as the black or red markers that decide fate and future. Of course, only if you believe in that kind of thing. Go through your whole life holding little mantras - make one of them that actions don't necessarily have to define who you are, not for you, not ever.

Waiting so patiently and the occasional small smile. The evening began the moment it was planned, but it is only now that it feels real. As hands fumble and that is okay, finally. Arrive at old places that seem new. Night fading in from evening, you stop to watch it together, the sun waving you good lucks and smiling because he knows it will all be okay. She does too. It's just where to start. Both so comfortable in silence that it is hard to break the comfortable spell it casts. Sat so calmly, peacefully. Fancy dinners not really our scene but every so often it is so wonderful to find a space so unfamiliar but welcoming.

Candle set in place, perfectly in the middle. Move it aside and make space for the hands and focused eyes. Lit from the side by an unflickering, unfaultering interest. No need for flowers when we are growing so neatly together, woven stems and leaves straining towards the brightest light. One that was shut out for quite some time. Smiling turns into talking, the conversation so smooth and so easily - filling up glasses so neatly. Trickling laughter, turning radiant and natural. Hearts glowing, warm and beating red. The wine in our glasses barely drunk as the topics are too interesting to have time to swallow. Back and forth, then pause as we soak up the moment and order. Only realised now how ravenous our appetites. Not eaten this well for months and so enjoy every minute as much as every mouthful. Soul fed, body warmed, heart beating, butterflies flutter. Firework fuse to be lit - they say don't run with fire but the man with the burning torch is hurting towards that string, unable to wait for one moment longer. 

There's a determination that set both hearts a light again. Sometimes no ignition is required it just happens again and we are reminded of why love is so intrinsic, powerful, kind. Just gone elsewhere for a while, a necessity that whilst painful is a means for growth and even greater trust to blossom. Spring is coming soon, look for those cherry trees, soft pinks and whites that gently remind us of the beauty that we are to become. So much more is a head, we are golden. This was meant to be part of our journey. Of course, that is if you wait and want this too. I am so sure of you, of us.

My Mother bought me a calendar that offers one piece of advice for each day of the year. How fitting it is that today's should read this:
"Give your sweetheart a kiss that lasts a week."
I will endeavour to do more than that, I want to give you a lifetime, not just one week. This year is not our year, I can wait even with the brimming excitement. The pain comes and goes, but it is slowly fading and I am slowly sleeping a little better. It just takes time. Time that I do have to give to you. Let's not get a head of ourselves, that is what I remind myself of, we have a ways to go yet. We are miles away from the scene above. I will trust in time that we will meet again. Crossing those days off, an end for one and our rebirth. Nevertheless, you are my sweetheart in my own heart, and so Happy Birthday for today, you are so very loved X

Sunday, 23 February 2014

Get Along

I always preferred the darkness to the light. Maybe that is why I always liked winter more than summer.

It's like I can feel little pieces of myself chipping away. And it's so odd because I'm sure it was you that so carefully glued them back. Was this always going to happen? You said you were going to protect me, always.
I love you, and you love me too (whether or not you can feel it or even bring yourself to say it right now), I'm believing for the both of us.
I hope you never forget me.

Apparently it is an entrenched part of the human condition that we must:
"to find real joy, must so too find real sorrow"
Without one, the other cannot truly exist. I believe there is maybe some small truth in this - for those that do truly believe to first acknowledge and then progressively accept this, maybe it is those of us that are broken that can believe that.
For many though I believe this is not to speak so true. Not all of us look so deep inside ourselves (and if possible in our souls), not all of us choose to dwell on pondering that fated state that it is to be living in the true human condition. We are ill from the day we are born, we will all die.
There are those that live in an ignorance, for it is not so pleasurable denial, believing that they can have one without the other - but where is their true measure? Do they believe empathy and a real education through social participation is enough?

Surely you would only be working from half the book - no final chapter? So, instead I have been living with the constant need to consider 'spoon theory'. The sadness of its accuracy, but should marvel at its ability to make others understand, somewhat.

How do we do this each day?
We just seem to.

I can't finish this in all the ways that my head is playing out the scenarios for me, there are too many and they are too fast. Some of them end too abruptly and some of them seem to tail off into nothing. You once said to me 'if you ever lose your tail you're done for', so what am I doing right now then without it?

"Everything in my body says no"
I am so against this, it's not just mentally, but physically manifested itself. Thought we'd already faced enough and now we were settled but at least together. This is going to be one long year.

I hope you never forget me.
Never do.

Monday, 3 February 2014

Battle For The Sun

Usually I have a place for things like this. They stay hidden away in my thought log (diary wouldn't be accurate as half the time I'm not sure I remember writing the stuff in it). It's not really hidden. I don't care so much if anyone should read it; but saying that there is this lingering dread that they'd feel the need to act, rather than simply listen. Which is sometimes the most powerful thing in the world that you can do. Be careful if you tread further.

I wrote this months ago, I've never needed to read my own words in this way before.
I've been talking to you again, so much and you need to get out of my life. I hate that I can't get rid of you. I will find a way to get you out. You've only come back because things have been harder. You've only come back because you lodged yourself so deeply that my brain now uses you as a psychological weapon of mass destruction against me. Because that's the funny thing about mental illness. It's that whilst everything is overwhelming and happening at once, it's as though you tell yourself that nothing is happening. You're okay enough to get through it. Sometimes that is enough, but you evil piece of scum (especially you among the other wrong-doers), you need to get out now.
""Time exists, just on your wrists, so don't panic"

I feel fairly horrendous that I can think of so many ways in which this can be taken. I'm also 99% certain most (read: near all) others would not jump to some of those conclusions. I also dislike that while I spent the initial few seconds on hearing this thinking it was a lovely sentiment that it was so quickly twisted. I then reminded that it was not the first time I'd heard it therefore it wasn't as new. But you know what, fuck you brain. I literally couldn't give two fucks about what you're trying to do with this because the FACT IS I thought of something positive first. You of all will understand how indescribable that is, a rare occasion indeed. I'm winning this inside, you cannot take that away from me. Even if it's not showing on the outside for Sam or anyone else to see I am winning so that's a big fuck you. Stop playing the game and get on board that we're living not just surviving and observing anymore. There are reasons to partake now, and I'm getting to this point where I can say that I feel safe and okay and consistent and loved and happy. I will refuse to be your dolly of tricks, I've been her for not just you but others and now I know what I want and it's not that or this. It's my life. I might not know where I am going and I may also not handle things well sometimes and I might be a complete pain-in-the-ass more often than desired but I am so happy.

I don't need sex to make things okay no matter what you think. I don't need to be alone to run away, I have someone that comes with me and gets it. I don't believe that I'm a bad person under it all. I have spent so much of my life trying to be not only enough but more than that. Kinder, generous, calmer, diplomatic, charismatic, clever, well read, nicer, happier and better. Always better. But the funny thing is I realise that actually while we can all always do better, we're already doing enough. Most of the time anyway. Enough to be considered a decent human being who deserves to find out and share in love and smile freely and not be trapped in a body that focuses only on breathing day to day.

There are any number of reasons that could pin down or accumulate to why I have been as I have but I'm really realising how little that is going to matter to me for moving on right now. I don't need to know because I know some terrible things have happened. I lived through them, I felt the emotions they created and the aftermath of each. I might have not stepped up and stopped things before I did but I'm not the first to do that and it doesn't make me a worse person for doing something later rather than sooner. The important thing is knowing how I feel right now is so very far away from then, it's amazing and if I'm honest, dizzying - I've sat and thought I'd never make it out from under there.

I may not be the most independent person, but from outside turns of events I am unable to say that while things have not been always brilliant, they have also sometimes been my fault. For which I accept responsibility, fully.

All in all I am aware that while this stuff may make me feel less fantastical sometimes, that's okay because I know you are losing and I am winning. Overall, I will win my happy ending and that is what keeps me going.

p.s. to me for later: it feels weird writing stuff like this on here please please please remember your thought log next time."

I also found this:




For a very long time.

Keep telling yourself it's not happening all over again. But it's that time of year and the water is so near.

"Keep me awake, I've been loosing myself, I've been lost in the dark, is there anybody else?""

Every year, this comes back, fresh into my mind. I don't know if it will ever fade completely. Sometimes it's further away, less real and more memory.

To the abusers that seemingly change you, you will always be better than them. You are so much stronger than you even realise, I promise that to you.
It's taken me years to realise that, but I do now. And I will fight this every minute I can muster the strength to do so. I have a wonderful friend that always tells me I'm the most selfless person she knows. Now it is time for me to be able to work on myself.

Sunday, 5 January 2014

Dear Lamp, Love Moth

Born with a weak heart?
Not wanting of much, but thrust into other responsibilities.
But nothing's wrong.
Left wanting.

Dear sir/madam,
A recipe for future wellness, a bit dusty and worn but y'know it's the basics that really get you going. And arriving at, what must be, the place! Adults now, no longer children. 'It's time to' embrace that. Taken by the scruff and dragged along, but not for long, pace set and hands held instead, sometimes even pulled along - but never too impatient. Otherwise that's when the darkness descends and the journey must halt, camp set up, fires for warmth, resting weary bones and back on booted soles first thing in the morn - crack of dawn, okay for you?

Many number of sights will be checked off your bucket. Mountains, deserts, grasses and waters. Where there is nothing and everything. Constant chatter and eerie peace. Is that the roads of nowhere or the path that gets your soul back on track? Make you feel alive in life again. I didn't forget what you said (how could I ever?).

Those we pass by in trees and far away (not really minature) houses, wave and (assumingly returned) smile. Days go on and continue. All part of the human experience, we guess. Don't worry there's only a 0.00001% we're actually right about anything. It's all guesswork and doesn't have to be concrete. But some hardened facts can be told to you, if stability is what you need right now - or at any moment really. Reply whenever. Externalise sometimes - but don't leave all of us in the dark always.

Whether that travel is just to warmer shores for your imagination to bathe in and restore beauty, or actual path bashing and tramping. Wait and word when necessary. Stand and, don't deliver, but receive gratefully when offered. They'll tell you you've got 'one chance' and 'don't screw this up' - but really that's only one thought and method of motivation. It's not necessarily true, rather one path you could follow. Know to take all the "time" in the world and carefully unwind that spring. Finally awoken. Feeling pleasant, calm smiles that are like ocean waves lapping upon soft sands. Gentle, like the brightness of stars even through your telescope. Even up close, you are ever more perfectly composed to me. Gloves that match and fit and sometimes can get a bit lost from each other for a bit but are always found again together - after all, they come in pairs.

As we've been on this road together awhile now, it seems so appropriate (and impossible to not) asking if you are taking the safe trip home or the one that looks a little rough around the edges? There's that one with thorns and foul airs, but I would rather assume that you wouldn't chose that, though if you do, I have a light and red string that I will bravely venture forth with. I'll keep them close, and come after you. Find you in the dark. Like in a fire, I'll wrap my cloak on your beaten body and extinguish the flames that tried to bleed you. It's a maze once you're in there and I know all too well. Luckily, both an entrance and an exit exist and we'll find one of those. Start again or start new, we'll take each as they come. We're not really going backwards that way!

Words have new sounds and tenderness has different meaning when held tight. Close and safe. Reasoning is not so necessary at this point. Close to that one. Does it ever make sense to leave then? Being away from them, of course we cannot break this earthly fabric of physics webs and be all there at all once (but that's another matter of discussion that requires a late night of unseeming prospects turned on their heads - a night that turns out to be so much more, ending in the incredible. And those, my friend, they don't happen as often as we hope). We act as though we are leading the mute, blind and deaf when we break down barriers and let someone knew into our own little worlds. We are scared (any extent, different per person), vulnerable, cared for and carried. Some say this is when the little castle of ice melts and the heart is able to beat warm and strong. I'm not sure I'd agree with this image. But images are so subjective that I am rather pleased to find others disagreeing with me.

Not sure what you are seeing - the induced illusions, patterns, colours, figures. Sometimes there are those that see them without that extra help and sometimes others forget this. Even those that surprise you in their forgetful state. Close your eyes next me, and remember - for one day that's all I will have left you with (not strictly true, I'll still be there over your shoulder and whispering silly comments). But I will be sincere and I will always be on your side - unless you need reminding of those sometimes others. Lilting and soulful, an imprinted kiss upon your forehead. It'll last a lifetime, but I'll sing of it love and make it last longer. And they'll talk of smiling photographs that make the stars seem less far away and possibility that little bit more, well possible. 

So whether you do it or not, a step up will be taken. Responsibility accepted, grown up for that time has come. Before you know it the next time to grow again will come, but it's not yet. Holes will be sewn and patched. Little heart, you will be healed. You will feel alive again. You will beat and passionately live. So until you realise that you're extraordinary without needing to really try, we'll do the things we normally do.

Born strong heart my dear,
Cherished - held so very close,
I will always love.