Poetry (words)

There are times

There are times when I am lost for words. Where the uncomfortable silence feels like an embrace.

Where biting my tongue feels like the only solution and walking away beats the fear of what might be said.

Mood finds its balance in the comfort of routine. Throw a stone in and see that balance rock. 

Brick walls that once were conquered are being built again. Barriers torn down begin to cover me in shade.

I don’t want to tread gently nor be walked upon. 

Poetry (words)


… what’s left when you stop believing? There’s you! Wise enough to know who’s telling the truth. We’re all wise enough, but still we quote their every word. We wave their banners high. We breathe in the toxic and we spit out their manifestos. We switch allegiances like our integrity should never be questioned. 
Because without political bullshit we’d have so little to say. Yeah you’re left and I’m fair to middling. Stances to suit the occasion.  

Poetry (words)

┬áIt’s been ages since I wrote something.

A lady at work was extremely sad this morning. She’s so beautiful. You can see kindness in her, her eyes, her smile and how gently she reaches for your hand. 
We walked and talked for a while. 

She likes cats and pineapple. She also like how fibre optic feels. She was sad because she’s so lost. She didn’t tell me that, but to anyone who cares to look closer it’s obvious. She’s been detached from the love of her life. Most of her day is spent looking for him.

Just after lunchtime he arrives. He visits twice a day every day. He brings pineapple. He talks he soothes. She laughs. Love doesn’t just stop. No matter what. 

Dementia does not take everything. It does not strip all memories from existence. If you allow them to fade memories die.