Scribbled Thoughts

Our world is frozen

while others are ablaze,

evacuating all normalcy

and disrupting

a far away comfort,

making us realise

they really exist

and are not just

a source of entertainment,

waiting for when

we want to

acknowledge them.

Pressure present,

unrelenting

as the day stretches ahead,

a monotone rhythm

settling as your life

refuses to change

and you’re too tired

to force it.

Disguise your nature

to flip a moment,

pretending to belong

but basking

in your differences

and accepting

this is better

than changing.

Dulled hope

that refuses to leave,

muscle memory playing

while your mind sits in defeat,

but that little spark

still exists,

so small it stutters in confusion

when your wish is fulfilled,

celebration delayed

until you can accept

it really has happened.

Enticement of extra work

to refill depleted accounts,

but calculate the energy needed

and whether regret

will outweigh

the little relief

it will bring.

Not the sunset

but the dawn,

embrace the beginning

but thank the end,

facing the new

and treasuring the old.

Over a decade

under the earth,

bones smothered in dirt

and a soul faded to memory.

A lingering sadness

to mark the day

a life ended

and a hole opened

for the ones left behind.

Normal tasks

and normal interactions

overwhelming

with presence,

presence

pressing into you,

no room to breathe

or cry

or scream

or lay down

and wait to die.

Reset the counter

and discard the before,

ready to embrace change

but already falling

into familiar habits

that give you courage

of who you are

and what you’re willing

to be.

The end total

to represent a year

of trying,

of believing routine

will create imagination

and spark

a long lost desire

to write their story,

their words,

their everything.

Has it been achieved?

The question is still unanswered,

but at least

it’s not a resounding

no.