It arrives,
Unnoticed, unannounced.

Quiet,
At first.

Slow,
Seeping, dripping.

I put it down to a few stressful weeks.
I carry on.

It unpacks,
Worries, anxieties.

Gently,
For now,

Tiptoes,
Whispers, creaks.

‘It will leave soon’ I think ‘It always does.’
I keep going.

It settles in,
Getting comfortable.

Getting louder,
And louder.

Banging thoughts,
Insomnia.

‘Please don’t be happening again’.
I shuffle along my daily routine.

Claws in,
Insidious.

Screaming,
24/7.

Shame, worthlessness,
Hurt.

‘Please go away’.
I’m barely coping.

Growing roots,
Into my brain and heart.

Blossoming pain,
With every beat.

Emptiness, loneliness,
Abandonment.

Silence, Stillness,
‘I can’t move, I can’t cope.’

She Sleeps
in a bed
of second hand
dreams.

surrounded by

raggedy Anne
romances
of no
depth or
consequence.

she is
a poem with
no ending
clouds with
no sky.



she sits

waiting for

heaven or hell

to finally

be done

with her.



maybe
someday
love will
give it
back.

the
key.

to the
place she
locks
all of her
secrets,

and hides

all of

her heart.

but not
now,

her broken
heart stands
alone,

the reaper.

watching,

while she
sits still


offering
only gentle
whispers.

of lonely

one way
conversations,

with empty

bottles

of wine

tonight.

I wish I could freeze my happiness
In little ice cubes
So when I'm having a bad day
I can just pop one in my mouth
And let it melt my worries away.