Scribbled Thoughts

Pump you full of our

love, money, will-power

to give you strength

and opportunity

to carry on.

You have fought,

you deserve more time,

to enjoy peaceful days

free of pain

but full of love.

House of safety

but venture out for reassurance,

dishonest and warm,

enough to take a step

that hurts but gives substance.

Pass through the tunnel

raw and chapped,

no matter how you stumble

you must carry on.

Please.

Attack the plastic plunger

and set your nose to anger,

we’ll try not to laugh

at your adorable rage,

slightly hysterical

as our bated breath

prays you begin

eating of your own

free will,

to prove you’ll be okay.

Comfort through touch

gentle strokes to reassure

and remind of warmth,

of safety,

and show a close future

where the pain will fade

and a path will be

hopped along

once again.

Eyes of annoyance

judge you,

consider your worth

beneath their own

and squint at your audacity

to force them

to accept the tube.

You try not to laugh,

still too happy

they are here to be difficult

to feel even a little annoyed

at their stubbornness.

(One of our rabbits had to have surgery to get a tumour removed. It went really well and now she’s home recovering but being very stubborn).

Leaving you

for life-saving benefits

or your death warrant,

no in-between.

Ignoring notifications

of the outcome

in order to get through

what I need to do.

Suspend your fate

until I’m in a position

to fully react.

Prepare barriers

just in case,

while feeling guilty

you expect to need them.

Perhaps this time tomorrow

you’ll be laughing with relief

instead of watching

the smash of your defences

and the aftermath

that follows.

Vibration of breath

shocks the echo

into action,

the sudden jolt of movement

painful and confusing,

forgotten muscles

forced together again

for another desperate moment

of life.

Mark my flesh

for all to see,

a sign of possession,

or just a by-product

of a moment together.

Either way

my reaction is a knowing smirk,

my step a little lighter

as I continue my day,

watching people’s

second glance.

Count the silence

of morning

as a private secret

between the house

and time you have

stumbled into.

Hold your breath

to hear the murmur

of a knowledge

you don’t understand,

can’t comprehend,

but find comfort

to settle in

and pretend you

are the centre of.

For just a moment

you are everything.