My mother carried me in her arms
When I was just shy of being three
In the palm of her hands, I saw dainty charms
She said it was a gift to the big, blue sea

With me on her hips, she tip-toed out the door
In the early morning hours to be discreet
When we arrived, she quickly walked to the shore
So the crashing waves could tickle her feet

She carefully placed me down on the sand
As she walked deeper into the water
She opened up the palms of her hand
And couldn’t help but think of her precious daughter
  
She took a deep breath and inhaled the fresh air
Like she had forgotten what it was like to breathe  
The cheeky wind tousled with her midnight hair
Smiling wide-eyed, bearing all her teeth

She dropped the trinkets in the ocean
And watched them fall like leaves
I saw her overcome with such emotion
This was the face of sweet relief

Her eyes glowed brighter than before
But there was still a hint of her meekness  
She was unafraid of her new freedom to soar
For the ocean promised to guard her secrets

I don't know your story, I've never read
a paragraph of you life..
                    I'll not lie I don't know when

your life became a doodle circling around
                                                despair.

But I've been through things you've never
                 wrote about.
  
                                              But I'm still here.

Don't think that a page will never turn,
              that a paragraph became a sentence
                 then a singular word


                                                           END....

I cant hold you I've never even met you.
              But if I just listen to your voice
its cutting me inside.
          but I'm here for you, a voice shining
in the dark places where your own voice
                                         had deafened you.

We can talk for as long as you want.

                         please insert coins in..
                         this call will end in
                                6.
                                   5.
                                     4.
                                     3.2.1.....

Then your gone..

But I redial and I hear the tears circle the
                  phone cord, tightly grasping around your
                                                              vocal cords.


I'm here for you, ill stay till the silence isn't so profound
         when your  voice inside isn't so loud.

Just sleep on it after weve talked.
            No your not alone, after I'm gone
                      talk to a friend, realise that they'll
be a brick in the wall to hold you up,
                                                          not to crumble.

Remember that I'm hear, now lets just talk.

December 18th, 2018
I've been running down this
Snow-covered road
For fourteen miles
With arrowheads
Pierced through
The bridges of my feet

Extremities turning blue, then black
You can't turn back now, face it-
"Twelve inches overnight", they said
We reap what we sow, echoing...

A whisper ran beside me
Running off the road - into the woods
I followed-
Until we reached the lake

Frozen almost to the center
I laid down, began making snow angels
Looking up at old light and dancing trees
I hope the ice cracks reach me-
Before they do

I thought I was getting better,
Less sensitive, more relaxed, less angry,
But pain doesn't disappear.
There is no magic.
Everyone is pretending, so I need to keep pretending,
Or I could jump.
The water looks nice and my choice made.
Game over.

Standing there,
on the cold, damp sand
in the open air.

Hearing the gush of the waves
Crash against the rocks
and roll onto the shore
-Gently kissing your feet.
The Coldness is overpowered
by the emotions and relief within.

The light finally begins to rise,
The skies grow a blissful blue-
in contrast to the regular, deeply darkened grey;
mirroring the colour within your mind.

Feeling your hair ****** forward
along with the black crow-
The long residing and awaiting crow.

The final release,
Resulting in the return of
light, tranquility, and peace.

The final release
of this Dead Weight
-constantly on your shoulder,
Weighing down on your chest,
and fluttering throughout your mind.

---

The final release
freeing you from this
Godawful, hell of a disease.

An embrace from the gentle fall breeze.
At last, I begin to feel at ease.
The smell of autumn,
The cool air,
The pallet of the drifting leaves -
All within a moment to seize.

I ponder at the chaos
Made colorful and pristine.
But what is the cost
Of this calming scene?
Am I to simply descend,
Or can I remain and stand?

While mulling over more complaints,
On my hand landed a small leaf
Whose fickle state and faint brown taint
Rested like a sigh of relief.