Find the beauty within

Find the beauty within 27/05/05 (Updated)

Find the beauty within
Words of wisdom
I looked and found
A hurriedly packed cardboard box
Untidily yet Tightly sealed
In black marker the words
Do not open yet – unfulfilled hopes and dreams
I looked further
The dust covered the still jangling nerves
But could not hide the pain
Swept carelessly into the corners of the room
Memories of relationships that have
gone rusty from lack of use
or lie incomplete waiting for a reciprocation
if the beauty exists how would it survive?

I resolve to look deeper
Beyond the dust shrouded memories
A pile of boxes
Though more orderly stacked
The contents clearly marked
Career, family, achievements
As much as I might hope
These may as well be filled with air
Some suitcases lie in the doorway
Poorly, hastily packed, bulging, zips ready to burst
I don’t think it is in there
Evidence of an unplanned journey

But what is this?
On the floor by the fireplace
A glimpse of colour
Green leaves
Purple flower
A timid hope
Struggling to beat the choking dust
The choking strangulation
Fighting
In this deserted place
It will need sunlight to slip across its needy branches
Life giving water
Sustenance not rotting dust
A beauty within
A struggling hope
Can it survive?

B tch

The rising tide
Slow and unstoppable
The inevitability of the feeling
Choking me
Nauseating gasps for understanding
I breathe carefully
I pace my strength
I hold on till you leave
Frantically trying to make it go
The taste of betrayal
The suffocation of lies
Filling my body
B1tch

Your words
Your lies
Sweetly dropped
Like dripping honey
I want to believe
I ignore the fighting inside
I hang on to insincere
I clutch the falsehoods
Drowning in the tide
Sinking
Hunting for the breath of truth
Hoping for hope
B1tch

Return to emptiness

Like an empty barrel.
The hollow reverb of a gnawing thought.
Hate your life and fight to breathe.
The echo of the past, of voices unheard.
Dry tears of regret fall to the floor
Splashing the emptiness with echoes
I return to the bitter sweet place
The reminder and the knife
Why return to this place?

Hoping to find what is lost

Searching in the emptiness
Finding only pain.

A strand of hair

A strand of hair
found on my skin
the secret love reminder
your taste and feel
your smell

Urged by love
your memory
your face and lips
your eyes
drive me

Leprosy

I can tell you what stinks.
Having little comfort and movement. This stinks.
To always feel you need to adjust your position, in the hope of comfort.
To be unable to move and make a shift to a better alignment.
How do you explain it?
It stinks.

When you face each day with optimism and hope.
To tackle unbearable struggle.
To never share your pain.
Pain shared scares away company.
Don't ever share pain, let your stress out or be in a bad place.
It's like leprosy.
It stinks.

Plastic love

If you love, do you put boundaries on your love? Do imperfections prevent you from loving someone? If so, to quote a line from "The Mexican" with Brad Pit and Julia Roberts, "If you love someone, when is enough, enough?". Can love exist without acceptance? If acceptance is part of it, just how much do you accept?

If you love without acceptance, your love is empty and without substance. Plastic love will last a few years but will break under strain or stress. Hollywood love will last "till the paint wears off" or the shine fades. Love cannot be like water and evaporate or like steel that can't bend. Love is like soil, it can change shape but stay the same, it can move, it can feed and be fed, it supports life and bears fruit.

I heard this recently, "I love him/her so much I will do anything for him/her."
Is this love?

GIVING UP

When am I allowed to give up? Is there a point when it's OK? Do I wait till my heart just stops? The relentless attrition, the daily pouring out my strength. The drudgery and the emptiness like a nagging toothache, dull and constant in its pervasive insisting throb. Escape is not an option. Hope? Just too embarrassed to make an appearance.

I have fought the fight for 6 years. Don't I get a day off? People talk to me about taking time off,don't they understand? Time off from what? Being paralysed? Being in pain? Being alone and depressed? No, they mean go somewhere else and be paralysed, in pain and alone. Yippee!

When?

I don't want to. I don't want to. To be me takes too much effort. But to be anything else is not satisfying.