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Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
The fear I have most
is for what I lack least of
when I need it the most

Was courage not there for each brave step that I’ve taken?
If not, then none of those steps would be trod
Did my strength disappear when I broke to my weakest?
If it had I'd continue the crumble to bone
Was calm not inside me whilst everything shook?
Or was it a harbour to return to when my storm had been spent
Was love not inside when my heart felt so empty?
Or was it patiently waiting to be sensed again

It is your fear that hides all our gifts from your eyes
Just know now . we are there . when you need us

The fear I have most
is for what I lack least of
when I need it the most
hidden gifts - inspired by and dedicated to my dear friend J. Reardon and her courage x
Troy Wylie-Hill Sep 2022
If I view the world with sadness, the weight I carry prevents me from flight
If I view the world with cynicism, my opinions and judgements form the bars of my cage
If I view the world with anger or hatred, I know that fear has become my shadow
If I view myself with unconditional love, if I can allow myself such forgiveness?
As my eyes become my heart, all that I carry is unburdened, the bars of my cage dissolve and I fly free without shadow
🙏🏻❤️
Troy Wylie-Hill May 2021
Imagine all around you are angels
lost as you once were
not even knowing they are angels at all

Rise up and become that angel you have found within yourself
be a light in their darkness
so that they may feel the comfort you had once so desperately yearned for
Troy Wylie-Hill Jan 2021
My eyes ache from seeing
Sound wounds me
All matter is overwhelming
I cannot cope
Please stop everything, for just a moment
Grace me with empty blackness
Silence beyond silence
The peace inside my being
From where I witness my suffering, the beauty of it

Take me to the shore and burn my body
But let my heart remain
Scorch my bones to ash
But let my heart remain
Let the waves wash away my cinders
But let my heart remain
Then burn my heart with the whitest of flames
So it is only the “I” that remains
The fire cannot burn this truth
Troy Wylie-Hill Oct 2022
a flower that only opens her petals for the sun will know little of a world without sunshine
the rainy days which help her to grow would always remain a mystery
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
I watch curiously within
As my fear becomes anger
As my anger becomes suffering
As my suffering becomes learning
As my learning becomes wisdom
As my wisdom becomes freedom
I pause
I notice
Thank you fear, for your gift
a much longer process than a short poem might have you believe
Troy Wylie-Hill Jan 2021
I am all the things I despise in others but I am all that is virtue
I am all the shame but I am all the redemption
I am all the fear but I am all the courage
I am all the hate but I am all the love
I am all the blame but I am all the compassion
I am all the guilt but I am all the forgiveness
I am all the judgement but I am all the acceptance
I am all that is human but I am one human
I am all that is separate but I am all that is one
I am reflected but I exist
I am
I
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
I used to follow my mind
Until I discovered it had no clue
Where to find it
Or what to do, if it did
My heart holds this riddle
I take his hand
Our travels are now within
Within me
He knows where to find it
He knows where to search
What I must do

Our path is inward
I follow blindly
Slowly at first with a firm grip
But as my faith quickens
So does my pace
I begin to loosen my grip
My walk becomes a run
The run a leap
The leap a fall
I let go

I’m falling
Falling into me
Helplessly falling
Endlessly falling
Disappearing now
Into love
I find and am found
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
When she died
I thought I’d lost her
I hadn’t
I’d lost myself
Shattered in the blast
And I’m still searching
Occasionally I’ll find a broken piece of me
Some of them are not so pretty
They’re shamed deep with my failures
Stained with regret
I do my best to wash them
Before I put them back
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
I’m destroyed, again
Again?
But how can I still be here to be destroyed
When I’ve been destroyed so many times before
.
There’s hope in that
Perhaps a gain
I’m destroyed again and again
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
My heart speaks truth without words
To mind
from hand
To pen
.
A small poem blossoms in a forest of tall tales
Stories my mind has told me
.
It's petals bring light to their shadows
Thank you dear heart
Thank you
listening to the heart and translating with the mind
ode to poem
dedicated to my friend little M for the kindness she shows me
Troy Wylie-Hill Jan 2021
I wish when you looked in the mirror you saw what I see
You see all that you’re not or could be
Then I’ll try harder to be a better mirror
A kinder mirror
A gentler mirror
So you may know that you are… what I see
self doubt,  self judgement, self reflection, self acceptance, self forgiveness
Troy Wylie-Hill Jan 2021
You are the restless tattoo of my sorrow
Inked deeper than my skin, deeper than my bone
Your brilliance shines through to my most hidden my most protected depths
Thoughts, emotions... these are no match for you,
They are consumed, obliterated in your wake
Your caress deafens me, shakes my existence
Hold me in those cruel arms, I will not shun you
Let your suffocating presence steal my breath once more

Be calm my beautiful friend
I greet you without fear
I am listening, confide in me
You are welcome here
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
My love tied to need is transactional
It is finite, renegotiable
But to love without need is unconditional
Limitless through time
So let need dissolve in this trust
And set love free
Freed from my cage of need
So that all may feel it
“What more can I give of myself?”

At last, no answer comes.
morning thoughts
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
They say that God sees all
But of course…
He sees wonder through my eyes
Hears all sound through my ears
Discerns scent through my nose
Feels another’s touch through my skin
Speaks kindness’s through my lips
Loves unconditionally through my heart
Dreams of peace through my mind
And cries through my tears for the suffering in all souls
.
He writes with this hand
My will be done
On Earth
Within your heart
As it is in Heaven
Within Mine
.
Amen
.
Troy Wylie-Hill May 2021
We never left the garden of Eden
We simply lost our ability to see it
By not being the you that tries to live life but instead having the faith to allow life to live through you
We may return there
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
I find
that
Sometimes
Summertime
Warm skies
Joy Cries
Pain dies
Fun
Sun
Times
Some times
.
I feel
.
Happy
Gratefully noticed
short Sunday musings
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
How come I always end up, back on square one?
And how come square one, whilst always familiar, is never quite the same as it was before?
Is it the same square one or a different one I’ve landed on?
… maybe there’s more than one of them out there
A life boobytrapped with thousands of invisible square ones scattered all over the place
Must I visit them all before I never have to return there?
And if true…
Will I simply end up, back on square two?
conversation with self ;)
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
The flames of hell do not burn me for their own pleasure
They burn to reveal the truth of me
Behind my minds lies
Behind my defences
These flames do not burn me, they cleanse me
Their pain is my shame
They blister my guilt
I have run from these flames too long
I have hidden from them in my own shadows
Now I surrender
To their burn
To atone for the truth my hell reveals
To be worthy of myself
.
I welcome this hell
I welcome my flames
Troy Wylie-Hill Jan 2021
A tiger just walked into my room
I stop breathing
It walks casually around the perimeter, investigating, unfazed by my presence
I don’t think its noticed me
I’m motionless, silent but the fear inside me is deafening
I hope the tiger can’t hear my fear
It’s purrs sound safe but they are interrupted by an occasional low lazy growl of undecided and perhaps ill intent
My mouth is so dry it burns but the drink on the table before me seems a million miles away right now
I watch the tiger intently as it passes me on its way to survey the bedroom
The tiger does not acknowledge me as it passes, perhaps it hasn’t seen me
I hope it has eaten
It brushes past my arm as it reenters the room and my muscles lock in tension,
The tigers body felt warm
I notice how beautiful, how majestic, its head suddenly turns to me as if to acknowledge the compliment of my thought
Don’t think! Idiot! it can hear your thoughts
I gulp…. it’s staring right at me now

The tiger has seen me, that’s it… I’m done for
It looks at me, into me, deep down inside, tasting my soul to see if its something that may suffice as a snack until dinner
I hope my soul tastes bitter
The tiger slowly approaches, its eyes fixed to mine
I can’t run, even if I could I’d never make it to the door
Please let my soul taste bitter
So this is how it ends, I end
In these closing seconds I try to make my peace with the world, myself
I surrender to my fate of teeth and claws
I surrender
Hmmm, surrender feels ok actually
I let go, my muscles let go, the deafening tension dissolves and calm fills me
I hope my soul tastes sweet
Please let my soul taste sweet, at least that, let my last achievement be a decent meal
The tigers face touches mine, it sniffs me and exhales, breath humid and warm like the jungle
I say goodbye to myself
I close my eyes and welcome its teeth to take me
I’m at peace, I am peace

But moments pass
And moments more
Yet I’m not eaten
My eyes open to see the tiger laying down by my feet
I’m perplexed
I finally exhale
I am saved! I am safe! shhhhh! Stop thinking so loudly
This tiger has mercy for me
Perhaps it likes me, perhaps we could be friends
Pretty cool to roll up somewhere with a tiger in tow
The tiger reaches out and places a very heavy paw on top of my foot, pinning me effortlessly to the floor
Looks like I’m going nowhere

I hope my soul tastes bitter
Please let my soul taste bitter
a poem about episodes of reoccurring anxiety
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
I sometimes talk to others with the same tone I talk to myself
With the same criticality, the same distain
Sometimes I don’t
Sometimes I’m forgiving, I’m tender
Sometimes I’m compassionate and kind
I must remember this
To keep it in mind
For the next time
Myself and I
Speak again
short Sunday musings
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
Loving yourself is not about telling yourself how great you are,
its a knowing of that greatness
its about having some love for yourself when you are not so great
It's the gentle kindness
The understanding
The forgiveness
That which you gladly offer to your best friend

Just be that reliable friend
To yourself
Because everyone needs a friend like that
even you
x
Troy Wylie-Hill Jan 2021
I am a story
written by my own hand
My identify is defined by my stories
When I die I shall become just that
A story
Told by those who knew me in snippets and threads
A concept in memory
But I am more than my stories
I precede them
Without them I remain
The story of my now is unwritten
At least not by my hand
Troy Wylie-Hill Feb 2021
When all is lost,
When surrender is the only choice
A man may choose to search, or not, for the truth of god within him
But what is a man to do
When it is God that comes searching, holding the truth of him
Not held with blame but as something he must learn
That for to forgive himself, is something he must earn

When all is not lost
When surrender is the last of your choices
Search for me then
Surrender into my loving arms then
So I may show you
Your courage
Your love
And the beauty I see in you

— The End —