I'm on the edge of awake and asleep
And the blade is pressed below my eyes
Hard enough to bruise but not to break
Soft enough that I can't sleep and I'm not awake

alan 2d

Uppercut snippet shut and lifting pain or louder rut
a random word a wisp of fate a dying flower behind a gate
penetrated by a noise and a favorite one is perforate
and that went together nicely.

rose 3d

How unsettling
Now I'll rest
until
The roaring waves
roll down
to
Complete stillness

Consider what to cease
With a view to increase
That margin needed to keep
Your essential level of peace

Maintain a healthy fringe
Rather than pack each inch
With no room to breathe
When circumstances pinch
 
Protect rest on your pillow
And the rest will follow
Make enough space
For more of your mellow

I've been following a course called Intentional Health.  It tackles physical, mental and spiritual health.  Session 9 addresses preserving a margin around you so that when extra demands are made of you then you have capacity to cope.
Manoah Berre Jul 18

Through this poem, I do solemnly confess
My morbid obsession with Death, my Knight
Meeting you would be the ultimate test
Your harrowing grasp is my daily plight

You did take my mother that fateful day
To that realm of gold beyond this Earth's veil
Mem'ries, are all I have, of what she'd say
They'll keep me going 'til when "we'll" set sail

I long for you with a yearning that's deep
Simply waiting for you to come my way
To take my weary soul for Hædes' keep
How I pray Fate may hasten to that day

I'll be on my watch for you 'til we meet
Death, this verse has been penned for you, my Sweet
:)

... the final repose...

A wondrous
day and night
of daydreams
and nightmares,

Haunting for
something
i wanted to
stay.

I wrote a lot
of piece
it's all about you,

but you give nothing
you just bring
rain and dark skies.

The habits are
so weary
seems in need
a rest.

On my
drowsy hopes,
i want to wake up
and see you soon

Porto Jul 8

If you know me by now
Nothing will feed me, but that
You understand what I live for
And try not to perish with

Lay me down a place to recover
A lyric in gold and green, you'll see
What a gentleman looks for
What a good lady frets of.

The way I need everything
Is in your hands, take
Care of me, I'm haggard
And lost without more adjectives,
So without my defence
Stay with me

D Holden Jul 4

"Just five minutes more" is the cry.
Playtime has been interrupted by the familiar "hurry up."
Vocabulary common to every parent:
"You've had ten more already. Time to get out."

Why do they insist? My needs never win the battle.
Why is my fun spoilt with this never ending list of demands?
"Oh, it's not fair" is yelled in anguish and responded to by further rebuke.
The severity of consequence based on their ambiguous countdown is increasing;
a thread of the "Thinking Spot" will no doubt soon follow.

A few grumbles are followed by silent protest,
albeit underpinned with a threat of childish tantrum.
It's time for the family meal and this standoff has but one resolution.
Isolated relaxation time is over.

The timetable of the young child at the door demands no less;
the parent must vacate their ten minute bath.

I hope that one day
She will come to me when she is tired
Because rest
The pure rest of a resounding peace
Is something which I too desire
And can provide her with

To be like this.

My eyes are weary
My mind is wide
And open to you

Would you take my head within your hands?
And set me back?
Pulling the pain from behind my eyes?

Would you be the pressure
My temples need most desperately
For a moment's peace?

Because no one else has struck a chord
As equally
As caring as me

Good night again
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