It will come as no surprise to most of you to learn that I am a flapper, the rest of you probably haven’t heard the term. A flapper is not some weird sea creature but someone who panics and gets agitated with themselves.
I flap therefore I am, at times I think I was born to flap, as somehow it’s encoded into my DNA. I’m always trying to find the answers to everything but could it be I was just made this way?
It feels as though I let you all down,
The grey cloud above the perfect town,
A caterpillar who won’t become a butterfly,
Silent nothings that haunt your battle cry.
Patches of frost on newly bloomed rose,
A tiny hole in your beautiful new clothes,
The ugly duck in a lake filled with swans,
Decaying rust that muddies antique bronze.
Lurking in the shadows,
Keeping her on her toes,
Waiting patiently to pounce,
She will feel him trounce.
Slithering from a distance,
He has a ton of persistence,
The perfect moment will come,
She will have to succumb.
The bus drives down an empty street,
A man staggers home with two left feet,
Blue lights twinkle in the far distance,
As the woman wonders about her existence.
Abuse comes in many forms, for me, it was both psychological and physical abuse that my ex put me through. Today I’d like to talk about what is left behind after abuse, and what it is like trying to move forward from something that is so hateful.
The green monster rears its giant head,
Emerging from the depths for bloodshed,
Consuming every obstacle in its path,
Until all that is left is sheer wrath.
Why is everything so easy for others?
All I can do is hide under the covers,
Why am I constantly being disregarded?
Stuck with a mind that’s being bombarded.
As she sits on her chair watching the leaves change,
The feeling of joy seems somewhat strange,
People below are always to busy to notice,
Its beauty is being appreciated by the poetess.
All she can see is the magnificent autumn trees,
How they dance in the slightest hint of a breeze,
The road below her is busy and congested,
But when she stares out she always feels rested.
Many of you may have experienced this short time in which you feel truly fortunate to have gotten through the worst part of your condition, it’s almost as if the sheer act of feeling less horrible causes a light to shine in the darkness.
These tiny moments are enough for me to hope that one day this feeling will last longer, that one day the anxiety and depression inside me will slowly begin to fade until bad days are few and far between.
The light had quickly faded from its bright start,
Yet continued burning as though it had heart,
Complications soon started heading its way,
And this tiny flame was obviously going to pay.
Today marks the end of Baby Loss Awareness Week, this is always honestly really hard for me as it brings up memories at the wrong time of year as it takes place between miscarriage number two and three.
For those of you that don’t know I nearly died from the second triggering a change of events which lead to a PTSD diagnosis, the first anniversary of my third was just last month, so right now I feel like I can’t get a break from it.
