I close my eyes, I breathe deep and air inflates my weary bones.

As I exhale I try to focus on the moment. The moment I'm living in. The hours that are porous to worries from the past. Life's episodes that cannot be altered. Except in the the continuous role play acted out in my mind, to put right the regret.

As I inhale, breathing life into my lungs, I'm told to control my attention. I'll admit, control is one thing I don't have. As although fluid and never ending my attention is often running short. Concentrate. My future lays dormant so leave it be.  Though my mind wraps itself tightly around the possibilities.

As I exhale, I focus on the body that has remained strong and healthy, the self-healing heart that has been put through its paces and a mind that is overly critical.

I open my eyes and as the sounds around me crispen and the smells around me awaken and the sun light floods my pupils, I realise. Why allow myself to consume the present with worries from the past and future.

Life is fast and beautiful. And it's now.

Lead us down to the woods where we
will absorb into the wild
nettle stings and muddied things
we'll find a cave where we'll retire.

Lead us down to the woods where we
can escape the monotony
immortal beings and furry things
we'll forget who we used to be.

I sit and wait for the moment to come
for the spark to pull me from the bottom
of this slump I often find myself in
where I can't find any inspiration

So desperate to create something better than good
hindered by words like "I wish that I could"
my admiration of others turns into self doubt
and I wonder what my whole life is about

I sit and wait for the moment to come
anxiety builds from the comparisons
of myself to others that excel in their craft
and my mind remains blank and time remains fast.

You were the Barbie jeep engineer.
You were the 5-card pinochle player.
You were the gripe to do the dishes.
You were the patient mall bench sitter.

You were Elvis Presley records and
paper backed crime novels.
You were my new antivirus software.
You were the chatter in the middle of an
NCIS episode.
You were the "It's okay, sweetie" on the
other end of the phone.

You were the voice of every bathtime storybook.
You were the baking soda on my first wasp sting.
You were the green Ford Escort parked
outside my middle school every afternoon.

You were the loudest clap at my graduation.
You were the sticky caramel corn crumbs in the
living room that held the place together.
You were the laughter

You were the toolkit when my pictures hung crooked.
You were the cornerback baker, the pecan pie maker,
dance recital seat saver and the road trip driver.
You were the puppy-dog pill-giver and the
broken heart mender.

You were the church goer and the goodness seeker.
You were the black-haired teaser and the
very best secret keeper.
You were a prideful wig wearer and
wheelchair rider.

You were a cancer fighter.

You were my first call.
You still are.

The night seeps into the the room
Cloaking all features out of view
Absorbing familiar shadows
Consuming the worries of the day
Coating like an oil slick

Coaxing eyes into tiredness
Encouraging bones to feel heavy
Hypnotic slumber

And as the mind slips from reality
A new world opens full of surreal beauty.

Everything was going so well, until his love turned into a gradual hate because you became the only person that really knew him, flaws in all their glory. He could no longer pretend. And for that, he hates.

Carry my body out to sea
Lay my down on rippling tide
Let me float away with the debris
To absorb into the immortal sands

Like a ship turns into a wreck
My bones bow, bend and break
And the creatures explore my skin
My life is forgotten.