The funny side to life as a working single Mum. My stories of embarrassing escapades, toddler tantrums and great expectations.
Showing posts with label break. Show all posts
Showing posts with label break. Show all posts
Saturday, 12 April 2014
First Aid.
In clear view, I see myself. It comes to me that I will never have this. My time has passed, as the past lies dormant, undercutting all. All that I have been and all I have been is shaped by a damaged dream. A broken paradise deep within.
The bride, glowing and warm. The groom, proud and home. Their dreams, fresh and exciting. I stand just outside of this familiar scene, gazing with joy for them and rot for myself.
I will forever remain a stillborn bride, a stagnant wife. First, my heart was broken. Second, my dreams were broken. Which is worse? I know the truth. A truth which is now more evident than ever.
With the blindfold peeled away, I can see the truth. My truth.
I keep the blindfold close, in case of emergency. I fold it carefully and store it in my first aid kit. Alongside this are bandages, pain relief and sedatives. There is a needle and thread, crudely packaged, resting on top of an unopened instruction manual. Should I open it?
Hidden in the first aid kit is an old fashioned pack for open heart surgery. There are implements and tools of all shapes and sizes, framing the heart itself. The heart which beats quietly, echoing, taunting: "Take me. Wear me. Use me." This is his whisper, as he waits, impatiently and sinister.
I have looked upon this heart before. I even approached it once, with a hesitant finger and thumb. I am closer now. Closer and calmer. This heart is mine.
Thursday, 20 March 2014
Fight fire with fire.
What happens when this dream is stolen? Do we die or are we just empty, still life carcasses? Active taxidermy, drowning in our own weakness and disappointment.
It has felt, at times, like my emotional circulation has been cut off. Calling it a barrier or guard doesn't even cover it. It is as though every ounce of want, need or belief in love has been burned. This is not to say that my life or happiness were lost in the fire, as they survived in my son. It is just that my previously undying belief in love and a relationship as a possibility genuinely formed a pyre, which was burning out in the distance. So far away, I could no longer taste the ash or feel the warmth.
I have recently come to realise that possibly, just possibly, the belief and desire had not been permanently destroyed. Maybe it had just moved further away and needs tempting from the flames. This is not to say that I am, by any means the naieve romantic of a past life. Is this sad? I'm unsure. All I know is that this slight lack of belief has provided and still is a procurer of protection. For that, I am thankful and it may remain in part.
I now feel as though the door of my centre of belief is ajar. Available to peek at for those deserving. To be able to honestly say that my openness has returned, if only partially, is almost new to me. As though this is a different form of availability and belief that in my past life.
Sometimes, an internal fire, wild yet equally tame is the counter action to the flames in the distance. An equal battle. Balanced perhaps.
Cliche as it is, they say fight fire with fire. If this is the case, then perhaps the pyre and ash can remain in the distance. Perhaps there is no need to burn out completely.
Monday, 7 October 2013
An Ode to Amateur Poetry.
An ode to amateur poetry.
Again, you see me naked.
Cruel and attentive, mine
Again, you leave me naked
And blind to solace.
As always, you tend to this,
Broken heart of mine,
And make it yours, unclean
Again, you leave me empty
And deaf to true tones.
Words, mean everything and
Nothing, all at once,
Where I stand alone, unkind
You submerge me, weightless,
Drowning in you.
Cat Howe.
7th October 2013
Thursday, 29 August 2013
Time for tea.
When you feel let down and at odds with the world a simple cup of hot, steamy nectar makes it all seem slightly warmer, even for a brief moment. Over the past few weeks of personal disappointment, confusion and discontent in my own life, tea has been a staple in both my physical and emotional diet.
Contrary to this, tea is also a fitting accompaniment to friendship, love and celebration. A sign that someone cares enough or that you care for them. A symbol that everything is all will be at least alright.
Tea. I can't imagine life without it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)