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Hayleigh Jun 2014
It takes a thousand reasons to recover, but only one to relapse.
Hayleigh Jun 2014
There are no words, no carefully stringed sentences, no clever use of metaphors, alliteration, punctuation and full stops,
that allows us to crop and capture,
the rapture,
of love.
Hayleigh Jun 2014
And til the ends of eternity,
shall i carry your heart carefully,
inside me.
Til the stars no longer shine,
til poetry no longer rhymes,
shall i hold your hand in mine.
Til the sea, no longer meets the shore,
shall i love you today, tomorrow and
forever more.
Hayleigh Jun 2014
When you are greeted,
With a shell of an
Old wrinkly man,
Do not forget the person i am,
Please try to understand,
That i am not the deep curves within my skin,
Please try to look within.
Do not forget though my speech may be
Inconsistent and slow,
And i may have difficulty with
The ability to chew and swallow.
Do not forget, that these complications,
Do not show,
The things i have achieved,
The family i conceived,
The fresh air that I've breathed,
In many different destinations,
And when you get cross with my hesitations,
Because my actions due to my complications,
May be a little all over the place,
Do not forget,
That embedded within my face,
Lies a whirlwind of memories and dreams,
And though at sometimes it seems,
That i am frail and bitter,
Please understand i am trying to come to terms
With the fact that Im no longer as fitter,
As i used to be.

And when you see me cry,
Do not try to deny me
Of my dignity,
Be calm, be patient,
And look after me gracefully,
Sympathise for the person,
I used to be.
And when you take my body,
Dress it with care,
There is still life there.

And if i stand and stare quietly,
Please wait, for me.
And when you brush my hair,
Please do not rush,
And if i speak in riddles,
Please do not hush,
What may not appear to make sense,
This change Im going through is
So very intense.

And if i soil myself
And your left to clean up the pieces,
Please try to do so,
In a way that irons out the creases,
Of shame and self blame,
And if i forget my name,
Please understand the pain,
That i will never be again,
The same,
Its just my body and my brain,
Don't quite work the way they used to,
And if it appears that Im asking you,
The same question repeatedly,
Please be patient,
I am doing the best for me.

When you look at my pictures,
My photos, my life,
You will see a successful man,
With three kids and a wife.
Young girl, I've battled inner strife,
For almost 90 years,
But nothing warrants tears more,
Than becoming a widow,
Not recognising your own shadow,
Realising your body is no longer your own,
Being moved into a care home,
Where the phone doesn't ring,
Where the birds no longer sing,
And you feel like giving in,
Every single day.
And people constantly say,
How you're turning old and frail,
That your body is aging and turning pale,
And every task you do,
You feel like you fail.

And if in time you begin to find,
A snippet of the old me,
Hold it carefully,
In the palms of your hands,
For the sands of time,
Are slipping too quickly,
Through mine.

So when you are greeted with a face,
With wrinkles so deep,
You could bury your own fears is them,
That sometimes weeps,
Remember, i was once
Like you,
And one day, you will be like me too.
Handle me with patience,
Tenderness, love and empathy,
Handle me gently.

And young lady,
I ask you,
Please be kind,
And remember all i have said,
As i unravel and unwind,
These cognitions within my head.
Just a first draft i wrote whilst waiting to get my blood tests, chatting to an elderly lady and thinking of my grandparents.
Hayleigh Jun 2014
You scream urgency
Like an accident and emergency
waiting room,
like a person relapsing into addiction,
Because they pushed themselves
too soon.
And there are claw marks in the soil,
Where you've tried to get to grips,
with your inner turmoil.
And there's a danger in your voice,
Like a lost child waiting to be found,
And you string sentences at a time
but no sound, emits.
As you sit in fits,
Of hysterics.
Danger, like,
Racing cars and frightened cries,
And there are holes in your back,
Formed by the lies,
You've been subjected too
And i wonder if i could use them
To carefully breath life back into you.
The life that you seem to have let
Slip through your finger tips,
Like dry sand,
And there are wants and demands,
Taped to the pupils of your eyes,
I wonder if i get close enough,
If i could see,
If i could prize,
open,
The dreams and memories,
Before they turned stale
And congealed in your veins,
Before they curled up and died
and left you entangled,
In the remains.
And the valleys of your eyes,
Run wide and down deep,
And when you weep,
Your tears fall heavier,
Than a ten tonne van,
Falling from unreachable heights,
And there are marks on your body,
Where you've lost the fights,
The sleepless nights,
With yourself.
And you're a shadow of the man,
You used to be,
And even your shadow,
Has sought to be free from you,
Sought someone anew.
And your foundations
Are built on heartache and pain,
And those little tear ducts in your eyes,
they constantly rain,
Torrential down pours,
And there is hopelessness,
Embedded deep within your poors.
And despite the ongoing rain,
You
You're in a draught,
All the love you've showered others in
Means you've ran out,
for yourself,
And your health,
Is a picture
Of cigarettes and late night drinks,
Old whiskey, poured down sinks,
And you're reaching the brink,
The breaking point,
But you quite like the sound,
Of broken plates
And you greet with haste,
The familiar taste of
Self destruction.
And there's a ghost,
Where you used to be,
Haunting the curves
Of your smile,
Watching you all the while,
As you destroy and defile,
The cold skin,
That stretches over your protruding bones,
This terror your living in,
Lures the wolves home,
Could start a thousand wars,
And this battle your fighting,
These revolving doors,
Inside of your mind,
Leave a carcus, a morsel,
A shell,
Of yourself behind.
And your insides stick to the past,
Like double sided cello tape,
And there are windchimes in your spine,
Counting down the time you wait,
For freedom to meet you
With open arms,
And your arms,
Paint a picture of self harm,
In bright red pen,
And the ringing of alarms is renewed
Again and again.
And your heart on your sleeve,
Is clouded,
And weaved,
Between fragile pastel pink scars,
And the hesitation in your voice,
Jars any conversation,
And you scream in frustration
As we express your complications.
And you,
You wish desperately,
That you could be free,
Of those demons, the sin,
For a new beginning.
And there's toxic in your lungs,
And a noose around your neck,
Where you've hung your expectations
Too high,
And you're hanging by a thread,
And the further you slip,
The more knots you tie,
In an attempt to buy time,
And you drink down each crime against yourself,
With another bottle of wine,
As you search and unwind,
The mazes within your mind.
And you can see in the way you carry your frame,
That you've been to the depths of hell and danced with the devil in vain,
On many occasions,
And your eyes they tell tales wanders
Of liquid sedation,
As you squeeze into a nation,
Too small,
Too handle,
Too inexperienced,
Too dismantle,
The train wreck,
You see,
Every time you look
Intensely,
At your reflection,
And your recollections of your past,
Are like shards of sharp glass,
Scattered between the seams of your life,
And you,
You batter the strife,
With drug filled bombs,
Painful tongues and licks,
Of the kicks,
You deny to be true,
As you continue to fall through,
Reality in a clarity,
Smeared with drunken violence,
And ear piercing silence.
Redrafted :)
Hayleigh Jun 2014
Your insecurities,
all those flaws you believe to be impurities,
are beautiful,
to me.
Hayleigh Jun 2014
just because you can't see the stars it doesn't mean they're not shining.
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