At the beginning of twenty eighteen, I used a jigsaw metaphor to describe how complete and incomplete I felt. Upon reading this, my Mother said, ‘You know you never find all of the pieces of the jigsaw, right?’ I rolled my eyes, said ‘I know’ when really I was adamant it wasn’t true at all. … Continue reading Age 24
When you are twenty three I hope you feel like you hold the sky diamond and endless in your hands, even if it's really running down your knees. I hope you don't mind dirty shins spattered with the yellow of your fears green of your dreams and violet frustration. When you are twenty three … Continue reading Twenty Three (Weekly Prompt #3)
23 in 23 days Wishes and blows Yet no childish Ribbons and bows Love in all corners Happiness sewn into the seams. Life lessons Too many worth mentioning Unworn trousers Compromises And spaces. Space To breathe To hide To love Make love. Two decades Handfuls Of heartbreak and champagne to 24. ____________________________ Day 11 … Continue reading 23
In the midst of Spring, two years ago, aged twenty I wrote the following: I don't know who I am; every aspect of my personality and every action of mine confuses, excites and terrifies me. It is the fear of the unknown, of what I have been and what I will become. But, does it … Continue reading Age 22
Sleep comes to soften anguish, Conflict put to rest Momentarily. Peace numbs any thought of You, of Him and of Me Momentarily. We read about moments In time and in our lives. We read about how moments, Although fleeting can console where unhappiness lies. Lied to rest, sleep comes to blur all that is and … Continue reading Momentarily
Seconds tick, minutes pass I know, by now, I should be asleep. How often, will poetry start with seconds, and minutes? For how long, will it also come second? Words, along with 6am, start. Lines form and glare Dazzling in this shrouded room. Seconds tick, minutes pass I know, by now, I should be … Continue reading The Writing Hour
