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 Apr 2018 Luna Wilde
Sia Jane
Muse
 Apr 2018 Luna Wilde
Sia Jane
Muse hasn’t left my bedside for days:
         she races around
         the garden when I sleep:
                            it’s the only time she leaves,
                            she’s so loyal.
A few days ago, I heard Muse barking
         in the garden;
         I knew she’d seen the woodpecker again.
                       I’ve learnt the differences in her voice:
this is what comes of weeks bedbound.
But when the sedatives wear off
         I can do more than lie there:
                       I can feel the touch from my grandma,
                       I can smell last night’s family supper,
                                    I’m lucid.
Yesterday, the electroconvulsive therapy shocked my brain
                       today, my muscles feel as knotted
                                    as my oesophagus.
I’m on my back now; my only company
         is the ceiling; not even
                        the canopy of stars I once gazed at with joy.
                                      
© Sia Jane
Just to say...
This writing is based on a memory as I delve into my past and not on how I currently feel. I'm in a good place <3
 Feb 2016 Luna Wilde
Sia Jane
There is no encore only a final curtain

For my former self, June 23rd 2015

Recently, I've been feeling this wave of nostalgia
As the rain caresses my skin and the wind howls past my ears
Every time I walk the streets to university,
Or watching the squirrels play around
The oak tree in the morning...

It feels like only yesterday.

And I count my blessings,
And I know how lucky I am to be alive.
And I look at a picture in this photo album of a younger me,
As I fake a smile to hide my pain.

I will never forget my former self.

And in my dreams, I am dying
I wake up screaming and shivering
With no one beside me, and when I close
My eyes again, there I am...
Stood on the bridge, drunk on starvation

Counting down from five to jump.

© Sia Jane
See Amiri Baraka "Preface to a twenty volume suicide note"
An old write from the summer last year, 2015
 Jul 2014 Luna Wilde
Sia Jane
She was always a sad girl,
I often think she was born sad,
You know, right from the start,
Right from day one,
Before the world,
&
Its cruelty,
Even made a mark on her purified soul.

Her eyes as wide
&
Lingering as an everlasting look.

It was as though,
Her sorcerer magic bestowed on,
By Kings
&
Queens of a heavenly realm,
Were too much for this world;
Indeed,
That her very first cry,
Signifying life,
Was too much.

She perhaps,
Indeed,
Was too much,
For this world.

© Sia Jane
For original sketch and words see;
https://m.facebook.com/Siajanewords?refsrc=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.co.uk%2F&_rdr

Thanks guys ***
 May 2014 Luna Wilde
Sia Jane
I think sometimes,
darkness falls
&
we are in it, regardless of
circumstance or event,
regardless of whether
we are adored, loved, graced
& promised.

Pain isn't external,
it sits deep in me,
a lump in my throat,
an echo in my chest,
&
it is real
&
raw
& it digs.

It removes any of the joy,
flattery, content others
may take for granted.

It buries deeper
&
deeper.

Right to the core,
the soul.

It screams
&
silences your whispers.

I wish to sleep
& I fear I may not be able
to keep on top of
the endless digging.

Deeper.
Each hour that passes.
I tell myself sleep is for the weak.
A mental battle between my own mind
&
reality.

I crave the rest yet I,
detest the fear.

Sleep has become an enemy.
Bitter sweet.
Compassionate yet punishing.

I lie there some nights, waiting.
It is incessant most nights.
I fight the need to sleep.
I can cope without sleep.
Days at a time, of course.

I can exist on the air I breath
&
little else.

And so they fade, one into another. I lose sense of reality or the realistic patterns of life. I exist in my bubble & as much as it is hell, it is a cocoon of detachment. Feared but lost within this mind.

Insomnia is the bully. It has tortured me since my teens. Who knows if its lingering presence will ever liberate me, my mind, my joy, my life or my dreams.

Hope is a cynicism at these times. All the love & praise & wonder I am presented with on this thirty second birthday could merely be lost in a nightmare of what is most probably my own making.

The ******* within me always seems to win this war.
We have a love hate relationship
&
we have for many many years.

© Sia Jane
I haven't been around but hopefully I am back now I have applications out of the way. You can always visit me: www.facebook.com/Siajanewords

This is from last year, and the battle I can still have, with insomnia.
 May 2014 Luna Wilde
Sydney
Feeling
 May 2014 Luna Wilde
Sydney
Today I spent some time outside
I thought about life
earth, mars and you
I think about how much anger I have towards you
Sometimes
Sometimes I lose myself
In my anger
I wish I could lose myself
In my happiness the same way
I've been trying to focus on the good things
I've been writing again
You stole that away from me for awhile
But I'm getting it back
I've also been allowing myself to feel
The things I'd prefer to just
Shove to the back of my mind
But I've been feeling them
And I think it's been good for me
 May 2014 Luna Wilde
Sydney
Coffee
 May 2014 Luna Wilde
Sydney
She reaches for her cup of coffee
I flinch
I shouldn't be afraid
It's ok
She fixes her posture
Clears her throat
Begins to tell me
All the things I did wrong
For the past three years
I pick my cuticles until they
Begin to bleed
"Did you hear me? Did you ******* hear me? This is what I'm talking about!"
I place my hands on my bouncing knees
"I tried so hard to make this work, but sometimes love isn't enough"
I just wanted to leave
**** this
I get up and leave
work in progress
 May 2014 Luna Wilde
Sydney
You ****
You seriously ******* **** for making me fall in love with you
But
I guess I should say
Thanks for actually making me feel for once
Thanks for showing me that someone will stick around for more than just a good ****
Thanks for every ******* kiss and the nights of fighting and the *** stained sheets and the love.
Thank you most of all for loving me. Even when I was crying begging you not to leave and you haven't yet and you laugh at all my stupid jokes and all the poems I wrote you and
Just thank you for loving me
 May 2014 Luna Wilde
Sia Jane
Soul not for sale
(sang to me)
No closing escrow
(renters may inquire)
Fostering a new neighbour
(a God to play with Lucifer)
A reckless promiscuity
(hands tied to a bed)
Other lovers pass through
(a medium of the wounded)
Broken down beings
(lost to the devil)
Respecting the community
(falling like flies)

Suffer
          Suffer
                    Suffer

    ­                           Pleading
                Pleading
Pleading


(there is no escape)
Dawn may break
(promising a new light)
Remaining the same
(ground hog day)

She's still tied to that same bed.


© Sia Jane
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