Scribbled Thoughts

Scan the insides

to see what remains,

did you leave

with an old-brown mark

or are you still nestled,

ready to grow

and thrive

and burst free.

Bleeding out an olive

or just a moment

to reflect on

what could be lost.

Mourning and optimism

has a very

thin line.

List essentials

then cut it in half

and still function

as normal.

Repeat over time,

the allotted needs fewer,

any joy gone,

until even breathing

is a debatable luxury.

Now,

list reasons

you are alive

and remember

it is worth it.

Restrict access

to the task

they demand completed,

watching you struggle,

and panic

with an amused smile

that will only fade

when the impossible

hasn’t been done.

How dare you.

Unexpected relief

still not denting

as much as you need,

the extra list

not written off,

halved but not gone,

looser but

not loose enough.

Waiting for a ring

to signify the connection,

the reassurance

a month of hoping has stretched

and tested,

doubting all and worrying the end.

Still we’re waiting.

Still.

Revive and wait

for life to move again,

hoping the trigger

won’t have to be you,

but resigned to be

the catalyst

while lazy tadpoles

swim in the aftermath.

Frustration pours out

on the unexpecting,

also waiting in limbo

but with more confidence,

while you have waited too long

and all enthusiasm

and hope has dissolved

into bitterness

and a deep, deep

tiredness.

Childhood of silence

follows the adult,

awkward pauses

judged by the confident,

and stable minds

unable to translate

the damaged.

Reach out for a heal

and hope someone appears

who will understand

and care enough

to help.

A moment of calm,

working with rightness

to recentre your mind

and know you love your world,

even when it gets hard

you wouldn’t change your path,

and that is a powerful,

wonderful feeling.