Sailing is fascinating to me.
Heading off into the unknown,
With no idea what lies ahead
With no company but one's own.
One lies at the mercy of the sea,
Controlling as much as one can
Using the rudder to do one's will
Finding paths measureless to man.

But what if

My ship's rudder had broken
The sky covered with clouds,
So I know not where I am
The silence here seems loud.
Where I head I do not know
I'm not sure what I seek
Meeting no friend and no foe,
I'm too afraid to speak.

What makes you think,
I can mend my broken,
self,
when Humpty Dumpty,
couldn't do it with all that help?

Cherie Nolan © 2016

Why do I write when I am sad?
My life, really, isn't so bad.
But when times are dull, cold or blue
When it's the start of nothing new
When work is done and one is bored
When thoughts depress one even more
Words are born- itches in the brain
I write them down, I'm rid of pain.
It may not be put down so well
But it describes what I've to tell.
When my mind sings an elegy
Words are carols for company.

Just when you think
You've gotten over all of it
One word, one person
Hurts your smile just a bit
And the illusion fades
To show the cracked glass
That won't heal again
Patches through the greenest grass.
I guess pain doesn't go away
And one doesn't truly let go
It just becomes easier to bear
Than pretend that it isn't so.

Keeping up appearances,
Shutting the dark vibe down.
Keeping up appearances,
Putting on a crown.
Keeping up appearances,
Make a smile out of a frown.

Keeping up appearances,
But quietly you drown.

"Do you want to talk about it?"
You ask, seeing my impassive face.
It's been a while, and though I could
Remembering feels out of place.
Recollecting just makes it hurt.
Forming the words again is hard-
They're overused; now they sound curt.
In too many I've confided
To too many people I've told
All my sorry, deep, dark 'secrets'
Some warmed me when I was too cold.
I wish I could say more to you,
Explain why it's not escaping
Sometimes it's nice to not talk,
Than to break what I'm now shaping.

Patience is overrated.
They say, "Just wait, it shall get better soon"
So I wait, like an idiot
Staring listlessly at the standing moon.
What do I get in return?
Fall after fall, even in rock bottom
It gets deeper each long day
I've gotten somewhere I never fathomed.
God, I wished I could run
Far far away to some lost land unknown
The number of times I DID
Infinite- where are the seeds I have sown?
Is it fear, or wariness?
I honestly can find no good answer.
But soon, I do realise
As I learn to speak, stand a bit taller
I don't want to run anymore.
I detest that involuntary instinct.
Time is a friend- but it's me
Who just has to stay, as everything's linked
Everything's confusing now
I can't think of the future and what I'll spill
But I have no time to waste
I'll find the courage to work, not stand still.