Things gone unseen, emptiness unaware

knots in the stomach churning

feeling the clenching of the pain which is there

Shrouded in darkness

light the candles on the fire place

the peace lily moves

bowing heads at the fall from grace

When you’re not here

are you simply elsewhere

Or do you cease to exist

a fading figure in the mist

Sensing the closeness

a shiver up the spine

for you are no longer part of this world

now you are divine….

Once more

When you waste your breath
You just end up breathless
So whats the point
Overstretched muscles
Pain creeps into the joints
Missing the cue
The stage hand rolls his eyes
Drop the curtain
Mistakes cannot be disguised
The shows over
Nothing more to see
Left forever wondering
Leap and lurch through painful denial
Wallow in hate for a little while
Find false hope
Its all a cruel joke
Until acceptance finally arrives
And the world begins to turn once more
And smiles return to the eyes.,….

Slutty Sue

Just a silly slut

one word

through her heart it cut

down her cheeks fell

a river of tears

turning into an ocean

after so many years

you stupid slut

it hurt so bad

her wrists she cut…

she was so much more

but she couldn’t see

couldnt get past that word

and now dead she be…

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me – If only that was true….

Poor Sue….

Parental Anguish

“It takes a village to raise a child”

Parenting is challenging in many ways.  As a single parent to one child I salute the other single parents who are raising more than one.  I love my little man more than I could ever possibly describe, and without him I would be completely lost.  Yet there are many days when I feel like a complete and utter failure.  I feel as though I was not cut out for this role.  I am too selfish, I struggle with the high expectation and pressure I put upon myself, the poor little guy gets to experience this too.  What I feel sometimes makes this worse is the fact that I am acutely aware of it.  So I beat myself up about it.  My mind whirls with negativity, phrases such as “I can’t do this”, “Its too much”.  I daydream about future times when he is grown up and I ‘get my life back’.  See what I mean about selfish?  I mean isn’t he my life?

When I watch TV programmes and read magazines which have stories about motherhood and parenting it seems that all the mothers are saints.  Self sacrificing, totally commited to their roles as mothers.  It all comes across as picture perfect.  How a mother ‘should’ be.  I put the pressure on myself once more.  I don’t possess the patience, I am not cut out for this.  I am a ‘bad’ mother.

My parenting journey at present has hit a rough patch.  I sneek to the bathroom for some respite and solitude, only to have little legs follow me and begin telling me stories through the closed door.  I feel irritation rising up within me.

“Just give mummy a minute darling”

I feel trapped.  It feels like the summer holidays are dragging on for too long.  I ought not to say though, I guess I should enjoy every moment I get to spend with my little guy.  And do not get me wrong, most of the time I do.  But somedays it just all gets a little too much.

I am overwhelmed by motherhood on a daily basis.  Still everyday is different.  On a good day I may read this and not recognise the person who wrote it.  I will no longer be in this space.

A wise woman I met in Tenerife over the start of summer told me, after seeing my exasperation with my attempts to get my little guy to sit down for five minutes to eat breakfast, said to me, ” Little people bring small problems, adults bring major problems – enjoy the time whilst they are small, even though it gets stressful, just remember this is the small time stuff.  Once he’s grown and the problems grow you’ll be wishing it was simple struggles such as this”.  And she is so true in what she said.  Sometimes it’s hard to remember.  But I am going to try my hardest to always keep it at the fore front of my mind.

Now to take some deep breaths and count to ten.  The bad days never last, and without them one would never realise or appreciate the intense joy and happiness which follows.

The summer of discontent.


The grey light, no difference between day and night.  The beast she stirs, I am aware of her presence.   The pressure which she presses down hard upon my chest, relentless in her torture, for I am not at my best.  Inciting the desire, the wish to purge all I am, exploring the emptiness which I feel within.  To rid the fat which lies heavy upon my bones, weighed down in sadness, I am lost without a home.
I stare at the window and the grey light which filters through. The summer too long brings cold loneliness.  Nothing to do,  the sun faded too soon.  I am jaded,  moods affected by the moon.
Dried up no tears to wash away the pain, only on the outside can I feel the rain.

The life of Mia. Introduction.

Disclaimer – The following is a work of fiction. Likeness to real events and people is simply sheer coincidence.

Every human being is born unique.  Yet insofar as life goes we are all very similar.  We all have our faults, our strengths and weaknesses.  And we all have our internal battles.

The only thing we know about Mia so far is that, a. She is a woman. B. She was in a relationship with a married man, and c. She then made the conscious choice to walk away from the relationship.  Dependant upon the type of person the reader is, they may have judged Mia as a bad person.  A woman of dodgy morals.  One may be more inclined to judge if they are the wife or child of a cheating husband/father.  Our experiences colour and shape our perceptions of life and other people.

For as long as Mia can remember she has been involved with a constant conflict between the angel on her left shoulder and the devil on her right.  Made all the more stressful with her incessant need for people to like her and to be proud of her.  Brought up in a practicing Catholic household, she has had her fair  share of issues with the guilt complex.

Starting from somewhere near the beginning in Mia’s existence on this earth I am going to tell her story.

The life of Mia….

Mia lay in bed that morning contemplating her life.  Out of nowhere came the realisation that she no longer wanted to be a woman who was in a relationship with a married man.  She knew that there was nothing she could do about the past, but she could be the person she wanted to be now, and make better choices for her future.

Later that morning Mia heard her phone bleep.  It was a message from Luca.  She decided that now was the time to tell him that she would no longer see him.

He was hurt and confused.  The days that followed saw Mia’s message inbox fill up with text after text from Luca.  He wanted to know why,how could she do this, how horrific this ignoring was.  What had he done?  She had known he was married.

Mia didn’t respond.  Yes, she had known, and she couldn’t change her past decisions.  But she was determined to make the right decision now.  She no longer wanted to hurt someone she didn’t even know. 

Ten years would pass, and then twenty.  Mia moved forwards, living her life from her values, doing what made sense to her, and avoiding causing another human being pain.  Luca remained married….

Miserable in misery

Miserable in misery, it’s been so long, and eyes fail to see.  Why am I here, what does this all mean?  Clouds of perfume hang in the air, I need to get out of this room, how, I do not care.  At the bottom of a mountain, endless promise lies ahead.  Fear of the unknown, ultimately fear of death.

Optimism today is not a close allie, to say I am feeling a lttle lost would not be a lie.  I have forgotten where I am supposed to be, forgotten the meaning of my purpose which is before me.  They say in order to find oneself first you must get terribly lost, so maybe there is the hope, I am on the journey, though in the darkness I grasp and I grope, at what today is nothingness, are my hopes and dreams up in smoke?

Patience eludes me, I snap and I snarl.  Sleep not yet beckoning, so comes pacing and then I prowl.  A panther locked up in too small a cage, I can not hide anymore, I snap into a rage.

It’s time to turn the page.

Dried up tears on the soft skin of my cheek.  Calm now, my breathe barely audible, I feel quiet and meek.  Emotional rollercoasters, I am up and I am down, a dog chasing its own tail, I go around and around.

Meh day

Some days it all gets a bit much, a child’s voice akin to nails scrapping down a chalk board,the incessant din,no comfort in words, empty silence, left alone,not reimbursed, for time spent in the heady fog, clouded and confused,something which has jammed the cogs.  No longer turning, stuck for
an eternity