I used to climb on window pipes.
Look through the neighbour's side,
Reach around trying to climb high.
I wanted to go into the dark skies
Find the real paradise.

And I am still climbing the staircase
where the happiness begins
but the steps are never ending
my legs are forever bending
the journey, like any, is tiring.

Living
shouldn't be this complicated
why it feels like all of us
are in a race against each other?
who has the fancier job
who has the more sophisticated house
how far is the finish line?

Failure..
Embarrassment..
Disappointment..


That's how I describe myself.
That's me. That's really me.

What is the deal with boundaries
When it comes to the things we love,
Why is it inexhaustible and all-consuming-
how do we make it stop?

it's not tiring being happy
it's ******* tiring not being sad and bothered

I am.
I am a cold, crisp autumn field.
I am a plush scarf in the breeze,
I am omnipresent, and yet never near.
I am a crackling fire in a winter freeze.
I am crumbling, cold, and free.
I am encumbered by the slush and snow.
I am waiting toe-to-toe.
You have seen me,
slouched, burdened, fatigued by the stress of the day,
waiting in the back of the bus bay.
I am all, and I am more.

My recovery was like climbing a mountain
Hard
Tiring
But so worth it
Then I lost my footing
And fell
Now I'm laying at the bottom
All beaten up and broken
Too hurt and tired to start again

Against the backdrop of a global catastrophe
witness us busying to fix the natural damage
heavily wrought
an endeavour in itself,
which ought to warrant respect
and the gift of time and patience

Our blood and sweat
a human resource
gladly spent to rebuild the detriment,
but not at any cost
not kamikaze squadrons
dashed upon the decks of a false progress

For each of us as batteries
are finite
and our spark will drain,
our light will die
unless the blinkered
see that trying is enough
for now

When foundations are rebuilt, safe
and feet feel steady
we will readily head skywards again