I have always worked hard
But never found work hard
Never before
Has it felt such a chore
My job is engaging
But I'm changing
I feel I'm a pale reflection
A mere fraction
Of me is present
I'm absent
My mind is elsewhere
Struggling to care

I used to care

It made it easy to be there!

This apathy
Is draining me
It's exhausting to smile
Too much energy required
I'm shattered before I arrive
Just trying to survive
I never used to pray
For the end of the day
What used to be easy
Now takes all of me
Shouldn't be this hard
It's like I'm swimming through tar
Empty of everything
Not just energy
Empty of all the things
I need to be me
To be here
And I fear
You'll see what I'm thinking
On the brink of sinking
Can't trust this shell
Can't tell
If you can see
The battle in me
Do you know what it takes
To be this fake
I'm angry through and through
While I'm smiling at you
This facade is tiresome
Back in the rhythm
Have you heard my sarcasm
I'm so numb
Detached and chained
Deranged but refrained
A turbulent storm
Has my insides deformed
This dusty barren show
Takes every ounce of strength I own
I can only hope
That no one really knows
But I wish they knew
Just how few
Pieces of me
Are left trying endlessly
To be all I was before
But with the passion of a corps
It's torturous, agonising
This hollow chattering
Exhausting, debilitating
Laborious, my patience is failing
Back to the grind they say
It never used to grind this way!!

The moon is hiding in
her  hair

As a child I'd dream of running away,
Nigh unto winter and not too far,
From Dad’s and Mom's, where I used to play
But which was now bitten hard.
A barn in a field was just one dream,
An old one where no one ever came.
Delight by myself, attainable seemed,
Where I could rest and collect my name.
Russet woods and graying woods,
Fueled fantasy and desire,
For simple things must do some good,
In corrupt towns, soul is renewed by fire.

There.*
That look of disbelief.
But yes, I am. So I'll be brief:
I am an actress.

"What?"
I know, I'm really not the kind
of girl that quickly springs to mind
when people think of those inclined to say
"I am an actress."

"But..."
I'm quiet, self-reserved and shy,
that girl who never seems to cry,
the one who never meets your eye, but yes,
I am an actress.

"How?"
Because you think this mind of mine
is great, that I am sitting on cloud nine.
For though these mangled thoughts creep up my spine,
You seem to think my life is fine,
so whilst my sun appears to shine,
I am, indeed, an actress.

Scattered shavings of pencil led
To line the dusty floor.
Sketched art instead of words unsaid
Sleeping behind closed doors.
A sillouette in graphite lines
Surfaces in the dark,
When light shines out and down again
The creature does embark.

it is in the quiet moments
that i hear my brain speak.
i see the words coming to life
i feel my heart nudging me
i begin to write
i write and write till i feel whole and full
and no longer empty
but complete.
this writing thing is new to me
and also old at the same time
it was always in me all along
i just finally found it
buried in my heart.