She ripped her wings on an olive branch
Now tattered she tries to fly
Halo crooked on her head
Torn image in the sky

She used to glow with purity
Now fooling no one but herself
She takes off her only gown
And puts her halo on the shelf

She tries so hard to smile
But her lips won’t hold it there
She’s sick of living up to
A name too hard to wear

She sees her body naked
And the image makes her cry
Handprints scar her body
Torn image in the sky

There’s nothing left inside me
That could keep me coming back
Was once a hand to my cheek
Now it’s a bullet to my back.

The skin, it might heal over
And no one might ever know
But the bullet will remain
With a warning to bestow.

I wouldn’t say I’m stronger
I’ve been weakened from the pain
But the weakness is a lesson
Don’t make the same mistake again.

Heart
beating,
burning fire.
Cannot control,
my inner desire.
Getting myself into strife,
thoughts are bleeding into life.
Stay calm and poised through racing heart,
as the truth could tear it all apart.

I put my journal
in the sealed packing box- Now
inspiration’s struck

Caught between the elasticity of time and the rigidness of a 9am Monday meeting…

There’s a wall to each side
That’s trapped me from leaving
The strength of my fear is holding it fast
I am beating my fists to try and destroy it
But it’s become stuck, through pain of the past

There’s a mirror ahead
That’s holding me captive
The shadows of doubt reflect disarray
I try to turn so I can’t see the damage
But I am so vain I can’t turn away

There’s  pressure on my chest
That’s stopping me from breathing
The weight of expectation is holding it still
I am pulling so hard to try and remove it
But my muscles are weak and I don’t have the will

When at last the sun hits the ground,
I can lie on my bed and rest.
When I sleep, I dream and I believe,
When I sleep life’s at it’s best.

In the dark no one can hurt me,
In the dark I can’t be broken.
I’m safe when my eyes are tightly shut,
I’m vulnerable when I’m woken.

The little light in the corner of my right eye,
The carefree giggle at a senseless joke,
The breezy naivety,
Now there’s another part that’s awoke.

A darkness pooling in my pupils,
A window to a humourless soul,
A heavy burden touches gentle lips,
What it’s left there is a scowl.

It was a slow surrender,
I might have stopped it if I knew,
But I didn’t, so I couldn’t save,
What I have lost to you.

When your pain’s too painful to be shared,
Put down your pen
Let us be spared.

Come back when the problems have resolved,
You’ll write again
That’s what your told.

Don’t burden us with an ugly thought,
Now hide your pain
That’s what we’re taught .

There’s a woman with scraggly hair, very thin, very wobbly on her feet, she always leans a little- life beaten.

On her good days she carries her bright purse, contents toppling as she sways and moves about a lot- we give her a wide berth.

On her bad days she moves less, but yells more at the passers by- the berth we give is wider then.

She always wears a summer dress with thin straps- In winter I think she must be cold. In summer I wonder about sunscreen.

The other day I saw her at the supermarket buying groceries. I had never seen her in there before, such a normal environment. I felt a little proud of her. I thought I probably wasn’t supposed to feel that way so I looked away instead of smiling.-Then I felt awkward for not smiling and left quickly.

Today I saw her again teetering on her feet and yelling and I wondered where it was that she stored those groceries.

I tried not to stare and then felt ashamed for turning away.

So preoccupied, I’ve been with invading another’s privacy.