Sweet sister, with your ocean-blue eyes,
That dazzling smile,
Your way too white teeth,
And those cute little freckles on your nose.
3 years younger, yet you stand taller,
Your golden hair, a contrast to my shadowed locks.

Sweet sister, with a lifetime ahead of you,
I’d give you the world but it was never mine to give.
Trapped in shadows,
A body that won’t obey,
Head filled with doubts,
If only I could carry the weight.

Sweet sister, with dreams that used to soar,
A brand new home,
Graduated with honours,
The world at your feet,
Your world used to be light but not anymore
And now you question why you’re still here.

Brave little sister, always so determined,
Others can’t see your fight.
The mornings you fight through,
Or the nights the weight of it all keeps you awake.
On the surface you seem so steady, yet inside the storms rage,
And you can’t help but wonder if all of this is worth it.

Sweet sister, with all those voices in your head,
Don’t let the doubts take root.
You are not alone.
I see your pain and feel your sorrow.
Life hasn’t been fair to you,
But there is still so much to fight for.

My dear not-so-little sister,
I know you’ve got it rough.
Please don’t give up,
There’s light beyond the darkness
Lean onto me, we’ll share the burden.
And never forget how loved you are.

A starless swart of night
has draped its murky veil
above my temple mount —
but the house of holies’
lifting light lingers on.

Its window eye shines bright
to lead upon the trail
that guides me to a fount —
its waters cool and ease
until new break of dawn.

There I sat throughout the trial,
whilst they sat there in total denial,
sprinkling their seedlings of doubt,
believing the lies he would spout,
throwing out everything I say,
just so they could get their pay,
without a care in the world about who they hurt,
attempting to drag my name through the dirt,
the questions made me so uncomfortable,
with every answer I felt more vulnerable,
objection!
take a look at your reflection,
you're happily defending a man like him,
so that your wallet is a little less slim,
giving no ***** about the future impact,
dismissing it all as lies when really it's a fact,
what would you do if it was your kid?
would you still defend the perpatrtor for a few thousand quid?
despite what I know is extremely true,
at times I find myself questioning it thanks to you,
I was just a child you had no right,
to contribute to the nightmares keeping me up at night,
did you ever see through his lies?
did you ever eventually open your eyes?
deep down did part of you believe me?
but the cheque was something you had to see?
you thought your performance was perfect,
but guess what, it was a unanimous guilty verdict,
and though it was the verdict I wanted,
I'm still reeling at the verision of events that you concocted,
each day in court chipped away pieces of me,
and now it's him who gets to be free,
I'll never forget how you tried to twist my story,
in an attempt to bask in some glory

Stuck on blackened spikes
and under stormy seas.
“Let’s go for a hike,”
my wife said to me.

Her sliver of sunlight
breaks through my fog,
a sparkling invite
to go for a little jog.

On a bed of autumn leaves
and crisp wisps of dew
the trees us receive
while I from black withdrew.

The flicking fire in the hearth
pops and cracks a wispy smile
while its embers send their warmth
into the stone house for a long while.

The chimney curls with silky smoke
that snugly signals a cozy place.
The walls are paneled with old thick oak
to safely hold us in wood’s embrace.

This warm retreat’s stout red door
is made and unlocked by my inner eye.
Its stone foundation and sturdy floor
are crafted well for brittle times.

Pull up a chair and join me here
in this secret safest place of all —
it’s in each of us, in constance near:
Take some rest in your heart’s great hall.

Have you heard her cries when the night passes?
Have you noticed her fears of failures and disappointments?
The childhood losses on her way, teenage skips on her process, as she needs to act like an adult who weighs heavy baggage.

Her angst and anger issues resulted from the pressure, to be always strong, don't make any wrong. She is like a parent to her siblings, and a caregiver to her aging parents. She is always being misunderstood, the one who is always blamed for other family member's wrong actions.

She is not healed yet from her past trauma, always putting others before herself but they neglect her feelings. Her bad temper identified as her negative traits not knowing the reason behind it.

The truth in this situation, she never wanted to be the firstborn. The one who witnessed every moment in her life that put her under tremendous pressure to be perfect in the eyes of her parents and a mature role model to her younger siblings.

She always needs to be at the forefront of every situation, the one who needs to be the first one to try before the other. Like a person who tastes food first, whether it has poison or not, but never releases the negativity that accumulates in her whole existence because she started to view taking help as a sin.

Her parents told her that they never worry about her, as she is independent and responsible, but little did, they know that their first child can be vulnerable too. It's tiring to handle aggression and disrespect after all the sacrifices she gave to please the people who never saw her effort to be a substitution for her parents. She is not allowed to expose her weaknesses and vulnerabilities, not knowing that she doesn't know how to take of herself because she is busy taking care of others. After all, they still called her bratty and an ungrateful child.

Afraid of having her children because of cycles of this trauma and the burden they put on her that leads to her attachment avoidant. She is afraid to trust even herself.  If you know how she perceives life with her own eyes, perhaps, you will understand the reason why she behaves like that.

She is a child too that needs to love and be understood.
She is your eldest daughter.

In the house by the lake
sat a man of few means.
He dwelled on his mistakes
that had left his life lean.

In that house in a place
by rippled waters’ edge
he saw just the faces
in the photos on the ledge.

Outside rang the birdsong
and the sun sent her rays;
the trees stood there strong
and the clouds went their ways.

But in that tiny home
a man just sat to dwell
to brood on being alone
and missed out nature’s spell.

Damaging thoughts invade my mind,
enveloping all the parasitic positivity
poised to curtail them.

Resurfacing memories surge like viruses;
enlisting others to help send
septic suggestions racing through my
Synapses. Converting creativity
into anxious apprehension
Overcoming the entirety of my being…

No one understands this feeling.