I was thinking about poetry at work today. I’m not keen on all poetry, I guess it’s in the eye of the beholder. Abstract doesn’t really appeal to me. It’s too simple. Words thrown at a page and only the writer can decipher them. 

I’ve got too much to say and sometimes there is nothing to be said. I find that line a difficult one. I could talk about everything and nothing, even I get sick of my voice. 
I’m tired and it’s another early start tomorrow. So…. I’ll leave it there. Neither too little nor too much. 
Good night. 

Slept really well without dreams or disturbances. 

04.59 it’s still dark and beautifully quiet. There are few things in life that I truly love, but early mornings are definitely one of them. I wish the world slept for longer just for those of us who like this time of day. 

I sat on the hill today and imagined how it would be to forget. Like unfurling petals feeling warmth for the very first time. 

To see with new eyes. To wipe the slate clean. 

The problem with memories is that they are just a click away. We rarely have to call on our brains for anything now. 

So maybe it’s time to stop and delete. Delete the memories, the words, the pictures and find out how it feels to think again. Things keep me anchored to situations. Letting those things go isn’t easy, but maybe easy isn’t what I need right now.

I’m accustomed to this. Fuck knows why. Maybe it was a way to write what I wanted to say, but was never allowed the opportunity. 

New eyes. New hope. New perspective. New……happiness

Good night. 

There’s a little piece of me between these lines. I let her out and shake her up sometimes. 

There’s a part of me that I want you to see. The anchor in my heart you set it free. 

Can I whisper all the things I want to say. If I shout too loud I’ll shatter out the day.

I crave your breath upon my skin. Can you satisfy and fuel this ache within.  

There’s a common ground we could find. Where I would show you around my mind. 

Tongue bitten to stop the words, covering thoughts never heard. I am stifled I am gagged, on your fence of wire I’m snagged. 

Do as I’m told not as I please. A willing slave on bended knees. Call all the shots in your head, kill all the feelings stone cold dead. 

I am tired of this role, my heart grows weak inside this soul. Your rules are desperate, but I am not. You’re a story without a plot. 

So covet this with hungry eyes, the words I write without disguise. As it is written so shall it be, the doors you closed, you closed on me. 

Some places capture a moment in time, a part of life unfolded in front of you. Some fade like dark clouds on summer mornings, but some stay evocative and intoxicating. Like a dream you can’t shake.

The nervousness melted into adrenaline with every breath. The smell of the grass still excites me, its dampness against my skin the sweetest sensation. 

The detour I took to shake the crowd whatever the weather. I’d often run that dry dusty path just to hear him breathe, to hear him burn for me. 

Hands full of lust, skin drenched from the thrill of it. Reckless abandon racing through my veins. The universe stood still there, alone together. 

In the midst of it were some of my best times, when the world around me was gentle and warm. When generosity and love lived in abundance, in harmony and never in doubt. 

I wonder if the happiness is worth the sadness, but I guess you have to live through one to truly understand the other. 

Coldness left behind weighs heavy on me. It places fear at the forefront of reasoning and trust. Backward steps instead of leaping forwards.

I slept the sleep of angels last night. If only every night were that good. It’s a beautiful morning. Sunrise in spring is a different colour altogether than winter sunrises. 

Early hairdressers appointment today then some shopping. I like Friday’s very much. 

Banging headache. Possibly a result of going into clothing shops. Hopefully it’ll pass quickly, I want to write this afternoon. 

…. and the end of my working week! Takeaway and a beer after a nice long soak.