What is it that we all long for? It is a longing that we do not always consciously perceive. It bubbles deep below the surface of our bones and our skin and clots in the cytoplasm of our soul. It teases our fingers to grasp it, yet slips through them as we close our fist. It is the playwright of our dreams, which are merely rehearsals of those moments that will never have momentum. What is that pull towards the sky? What are those invisble strings that make our puppet-like perceptions dance? Unsatisfaction, it seems, is a black, putrid rot that smothers and suffocates all that is satisfying. I envy the satisfied ones, but although they appear satisfied to me, I question whether their soles are writhing deep inside as mine does. I don't think I can quite articulate something which is not visible, something which is not palpable, yet is thick and fluid in the air that I breathe...
The Devil’s Den
I resent that dusty, smoky room; the loft that held my soul above its hatch. The devil's den, where a part of my soul still remains.
When I am asleep, my younger self hammers on the walls of my mind, as she is still in the walls of that loft, begging me to release her, begging me to acknowledge her.
I would spend hours in the front of the mirror, perfecting my face, searching for a glimmer of recognition and self worth in my own eyes.
I adhered to my schedule, arriving at the expected time each day, climbing the steps to that loft hatch with refreshed hope.
As I opened it, the smoke would sting my eyes and I would be greeted by silence.
No hugs, no kisses, no warm welcome here...just a body in a bed, waiting to be woken up to get ready for the night shift.
I would try to stir him but he would grunt and roll over. I would turn on the TV. I knew the exact time each programme started and which channel.
I would sit alone, wishing he would care enough to just open his eyes.
I left once...I was so fed up of the devil's den which consumed the precious hours of my life.
He woke up late for work, realising I wasn't there. He phoned me and told me not to bother coming down the next night. He demanded to know why I had left, made me feel guilty for not waking him up.
And I apologised, I told him I would be there the next night and that I was sorry and I begged the devil to let me return to his hell.
For I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to retrieve that part of my soul, which remained in the walls. I wouldn't be complete and I wouldn't be my full self.
That disappointed, lonely girl would be left there, screaming to get out, hammering on the walls of my mind, as she still does during the night...
A Child’s Mind
The sprawling, limitless possibilities of a child's mind are akin to the infinite concepts of the universe. The future in front stretches out, eminating with uncertainty yet intrigue. The black 'in-between' is unspoilt and untouched and with the ferocity of a black hole it consumes information and new ideas. The hottest sun will warm a child's back, while the harsh cold ahead entices and is somehow unfelt. Life has not yet taken it's linear shape. Instead it possesses the very air that is inhaled, the wind on one's cheek and the excitement in one's chest. Life, like the universe, is without walls or boundaries; it has no beginning and no end. It asks questions and yet holds all of the answers. It presents obstacles, yet holds promise and hope. If only life could remain this limitless. If only our hearts could remain as open as our minds once were. If only we could go back to being at the centre of our own universe, able to venture off in any direction we choose.
Conflicts of Love
Demonic yet Angelic
Peaceful yet Chaotic
Soothing yet burning
I can't help but laugh when that child you know so well
Is suddenly replaced and they hope that you can't tell
And everyone wears the same clothes, doesn't it make you think
That surely that top which they've worn all week
Must absolutely stink?
And they're in the pub every lunchtime, I find it rather funny
How working in an underwear factory, can earn you so much money
The local neighbourhood gossip is poised at the edge of the street,
Ready with their snidy remarks to all that they may greet
And every now and again, there's an explosion or a crash
To clear out all the boring ones, and throw them in the trash
And although I think they're fake and false, and make my mind feel numb
I still can't help but watch them, perhaps I'm the one who's dumb
There's fury in your eyes, as you scream that it's not fair,
You stamp your feet and clench your fists in messed up straw-blonde hair
You can't resist the urge to reach out and hit me on the leg
And despite your behaviour you continue to winge and beg
I wish you understood how hard my day was today
As I toiled and slaved at work while all you did was play
If only you appreciated the effort put into our tea
As I tried to eat while you took a tantrum when I turned over the TV
Despite how mad you make me, and how furious I felt
When you looked at me with those puppy dog eyes I soon began to melt
And even though I fantasized at the thought of just running away
Your tiny hands upon my face, make me want to stay
Of course you don't understand, I forget you're only three
One day when you grow up and you're in my shoes, only then will you see
But even when you're obnoxious, and impossible and wild
You will always be my beautiful, perfect, little child
Through the mist and pouring rain
I went for a stroll down memory lane
I covered old ground, damp and rotten
Where I kept treading over what I wished I'd forgotten
A familiar smell as I passed the trees
Whisked me away on a summer's breeze
Then a haunting voice echoed through my ears
Dredging up my darkest fears
I ran away down a narrow street
Hiding from those I didn't want to meet
Then at the street corner I saw a light
And basked in childhood memories bright
Some doors were closed but I stepped inside
Others I closed, which were left open wide
Then I heard something distant from over yonder
Which lured me back, no more time to ponder
I realised that I must make haste
Then felt tiny arms around my waist
I was glad to be home, remind me, never again
To go wandering off down memory lane.
The hypnotic stars held my gaze
Billions of tiny holes, cut out of a blue blanket
Which enveloped the earth, hiding it from the harsh sun
Each star held promise of nuturing life
With its own nursery of planets
Secret worlds, unseen and untouched
I am looking into the past, at stars which may no longer exist,
Yet are very real in this present moment
Boundless, sprawling space
Infinite, with no confines
Except for the confines of my human brain
Which adds limits and cannot fully comprehend its vastness
The cold air bites at my skin, and plucks me from my voyage with icy fingers,
Placing me back on the doorstep.
I blink, breaking the cord leading up to the sky,
And step inside....
For every time that you felt weak
I wish that I had kissed your cheek
For every time I saw your tears
I wish that I had chased your fears
For every time you stared at me blankly
I wish that I hadn't spoken so frankly
For every time you made me sad
I should have realised that you felt bad
For every time you broke my heart
I should have imagined that we were apart
For every time you let me down
I shouldn't have enabled you to drown
Everyone says I did my best
but I cannot settle I cannot rest
In hindsight I guess it's easy to say
That maybe I could have made you stay
Without you I must go along
Always pretending to be strong
Life will always be a test
Until, after death, you can put my mind to rest...
You phoned me up tonight
you held out an olive branch and I grabbed it tight
A suggestion to go to the park tomorrow
You said you missed her, I felt your sorrow
"let's take the little one to the park"
What a shock, what a remark
As I've sat and wished for so very long
To feel like a family, together we're strong
I heard the hopefullness in your voice
I felt as though I had no choice
But to say yes and agree to plan a day,
Where all the sorrow would go away
For I can tell that you truly fear, What I'll think of you when you're no longer here
To be honest I don't care about myself
I will place my anger at the back of the shelf,
Just to see my daughter's smile shine bright
As you push her on the swing with all your might
For one day only let's just pretend
That maybe, perhaps our family can mend