Thursday, 26 April 2012


If the effort to speak is too much
If inside there's a void where I used to be
If I reach out but there's no connection
If the people in my life who should love and support me without question won't
There's no "If " left, just Goodbye.

Keep Smiling

I know I used to laugh a lot and for a few seconds I can feel that emotion again,
But when I waken in the small cruel hours when sleep has escaped me after just 2 hours,
When tiredness weighs on me like a Ton of Molasses that I have to try to wade through while pretending I'm fine,
When my mind is full of spaces where I used to be
I'm fragmenting, shattering, but no one can see.


Am I unloving and so ungiving,
Quick to temper and slow at forgiving?
Perhaps it's true but I'm screaming inside
This is not me, not what I was
But I'm trapped in this body
I feel tired to my core
Taking pills that make me feel sick every evening
So that I won't be wracked with tremors and electric shocks
My clarity is fading as sleep deprivation
Eats away at my sanity
It's too hard to cling on
I can't --------- anymore.

The Brain in Free Fall

I no longer consider myself to be an insomniac, no, I am but an Early Riser. 2 hours sleep seems to be all that my frazzled brain will allow me. I decided to document what I could remember in those few seconds between dreamscape and landscape. Here is the result of one of the oddest.

The Brain In Free Fall

Why am I in a Tin?
You're in a Cubicle, you're not in a Tin.
I'm in a Tin, I told you to take me to a hot dirty beach and you've put me in a Tin.
I had to bring you here, you're a badly torn girl and you need stitched.
I may be badly torn but I need a hot dirty beach.

I leave the Dear Reader to decide what fate should befall me. Asylum or Straight Jacket?

Monday, 6 June 2011


It speeds up, slows down, turns upon itself,  flies off at a tangent and can never be rewound. When that fatal wrong word is uttered, wrong decision made, wrong road travelled, from one breath to the next is all it takes for  the sky to fall.

Sunday, 29 May 2011

The Wind and I

It may be because I was born in October but for some reason I feel alive when the wind blows. Not any gentle breeze but gales and gusts and mighty shouts of wind.
Just today, in between showers, I wrestled my comfy, stuffed to overflowing garden chair out of the shed, put on my thickest fleece and curled up with a good book for hours.
It does not seem odd to me and the comfort I get from the the wind on my face is like no other feeling, he is a friend, just letting me know he's hanging around.

My Thoughts on Love:

The weapon embraced,
How quickly replaced.