Category Archives: Diary

Mum.

How do you carry on

When your heart breaks?

Going through the motions

Numb, on auto pilot.

Two fractured sides

One screaming at the

Unreality of your leaving.

The other….just existing

In a sureal reality.

Dam will break, eventually.

Or I will revert to the

Old habits.

Burying the pain, self medicated

In unhealthy ways.

I feel so lost, so alone!

50 years of you always there,

A mothers love is unconditionally mine.

My longest friend, strongest supporter

And the one who loved me

With deepest love.

To see the life leave you,

Your eyes grow dim, glassy,

Your breath, labouring

My fear, even then you were trying

To calm me.

I miss you.

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It’s been a while

The last few months have been full on.  Moving house, taking care of Ma after her hip operation.  Sadly,  5 months after it she passed away totally unexpectedly. 

I have also started a bachelor degree again that I defered last year. Really excited about this.  

Will try and be more consistent with the website.  As I miss writing, to me it is such a healthy and healing way to work through what needs working through.  

 

You Called Me A Contra

Totally get the sentiment in this.

The 365 Poetry Project

I was supposed to call you
every now and then,
I was supposed to ask you
how you’ve been.

But once you drove far enough away
not to care anymore
I never did.

I still know a song about dinosaurs we wrote
but I don’t know a thing
about you now.

Because you’d shave your head in secret
and say that we were close,
because you called me a contra
after all that time.

We were never supposed to change,
were we?

All that talk about honesty,
it came with hard conditions,
and I was never really the plan.
Not a contra.

It’s been a hundred years
but I think you’re fine
that I never called
’cause you called me a contra.

And a hundred years of maybe
becoming a contra
after all.

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The Daytop Philosophy

okinajim

“Here, together, I can at lastappear clearly to myself”

I am here because there is no refuge, finally from myself.

Until I confront myself in the eyes and hearts of others, I am running.

Until I suffer them to know my secrets, I have no safety from them.

Afraid to be known, I can know neither myself nor any other, I will be alone.

Where else but in our common ground, can I find such a mirror?

Here, together, I can at last appear clearly to myself, not as a giant of my dreams, nor the dwarf of my fears, but as a person, part of the whole, with my share in its purpose.

In this ground I can take root and grow, not alone any more, as in death, but alive to myself and to others.

Richard Beauvais

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