The crying sun whispers to a cloud.
The north wind hears and howls out loud.
We’ll make them wish they’d never been born.
Let’s stir things up and cause a storm.
As rain stings my skin and the wind grips my soul
I look for shelter and wait for a lull.
Hoping things can only get better.
I look to the sky and curse the weather.
......
The biggest fallacy of childhood:
"Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words will never hurt me."
How did it start?
Perhaps in a vain attempt
To build resilience.
Yet all of us have been wounded
By a careless remark,
Some needless invective,
An incisive insult
......
I attempt to belong as a hunter, someone standing apart from your entity,
to restrain tautological blunders; yield myself to the sedative’s lenity.
I attempt to belong as a seeker, be of significance on my own right,
but contrary to all these endeavours… I collide with my own despite.
I whip myself on like a horse, trusting failure to be hematobic,
advancing excessive wars, self-sufficient and misanthropic.
under pressure of ceaseless wantage, I obsess about being faultless,
yet I’m at absolute disadvantage, unmindful if I endorse this.
......
Year 7 French class:
Pens scrawling busily,
Buzz of chat in the air
And suddenly it hits me -
The teacher's started feeling ill.
She carries on enthusiastically.
I look around -
They're all absorbed in what's being said
Not the way she says it.
Was it a change in tone,
......
Smile, those luminous smile,
Radiated and soft as the morning sun
sparkled as twinkling stars through the night sky,
parted our ways
before we could hold on to,
promises that we made
Dreams we weaved in the fabric of life
now are like the unread letter in a distance sky.
It was hard with you;
now it is harder without you,
......
The crying sun whispers to a cloud.
The north wind hears and howls out loud.
We’ll make them wish they’d never been born.
Let’s stir things up and cause a storm.
As rain stings my skin and the wind grips my soul
I look for shelter and wait for a lull.
Hoping things can only get better.
I look to the sky and curse the weather.
......
My permanent cover blown.
My home away from home.
And we built it in a day
While Nero looked at Rome.
I was fine. I am fine. I will be fine.
Fine is a word I have unfortunately become familiar with throughout my life, and I hope no other person comes to know the word fine the way I know it.
I was fine when I was born as the younger sibling to a sister who suffered from bleeding ears, alcoholism, and thoughts of suicide.
I am fine as the younger sibling with eating disorders, depression, and thoughts of suicide.
And I will be fine as the younger sibling, frightened beyond belief, who enters the lonely and soul consuming world of medicine.
I have accepted that I need to be the child who is fine, and I am okay with that.
I’m not angry. I’m not sad. I’m not scared. I’m not disappointed. I’m not heartbroken.
I’m fine.
......
This feels…
It feels like going on a road trip
Best friend at the helm
Trusting fully that they get you to your concerted destination
You sleep.
You trust.
You smile.
You feel the breeze.
You breathe.
......
Be a father to me
place a hand on my head
keep me rooted, my mind
Oh father, why won’t you let me levitate?
I understand that you are distant
for me to grow above you
but please, that searing shield you carry,
put it down.
Embrace me warmly
......