Matilda

She inspired me at a time when I needed her, she felt just as alone as I did growing up, I couldn’t believe a man wrote a book that spoke to my soul at such a young age. Matilda made me want to be a writer, as a child I wanted to connect to other children who felt just as alone as I was, to spread hope that one day it’s going to be ok.

I have created characters in my head as long as I remember, wondering what’s going on inside peoples heads, and making up stories of what their lives could be like. I have been a writer my entire life, that little girl who can’t speak in front of others but leads a rich life inside her own head.

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To my third child.

I’d like to start by saying sorry for not being as active, I’ve been rather down about Mothers Day, which has been seriously affecting my mood and almost two weeks later it is now the due date for the child I miscarried back in September.

The darkness has swallowed me up these past few weeks, to a point where I can’t do anything but sit in a darkened room staring into space, I can’t be of any help to anyone right now

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Self Sabotage

I cannot stop, I feel as if I have been hit by a bus but I cannot stop, because if I stop I’ll think about things and if I think about things I won’t be able to keep going. Is it even worth it? I feel like I am getting nowhere, my mind is in pieces and just when I think I’ve finally cracked the puzzle more pieces get dumped on top of me.

I don’t seem to fit anymore, I can’t find that passion that fuels me, I don’t know where I belong anymore. I wanted to give answers to those people who are going through similar things from my past. But I am not healthy, I don’t have answers, and I definitely do not feel better; pain is all I feel.

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The Hidden Forest

On the darkest of nights, I see myself curled up on the floor,

I cry and I plead, “I cannot take it anymore.”

Isolated among some dench and darkened trees,

Grief could forever keep me among the leaves.

The thought of staying enters my mind,

Here I can be left to rot amongst the vine,

But my body wants me to be free,

To vanquish the howling banshee.

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The Cocoon

Wrapped inside a great cocoon,

With no way to tell the sun from the moon,

Cannot feel the wind on my face,

Or the rain soaking through me as I run with haste.

Stagnant inside with nothing to do,

Cannot escape what I’m going through,

I have to stay still in this place,

The process is not a race.

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The Lady Prince is One!

I can’t believe it’s been a year since I first started this blog, it feels like no time has passed yet so many things have happened since I posted my first poem a year ago today. I have had many ups and many downs, I have fought every day against my mental health and some days I have won that particular battle.

I have taken so many steps to get better, been pushed back by events but I keep going, which is what I am going to focus on today. I get back up, after everything I’ve been through I always get back up, and today of all days I should be proud of my achievements. To some, they may look tiny but to me, every one of them feels like a giant stride.

I’m still here, still writing, and taking it one day at a time.

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The Bad Place

Right now I am in a really bad place, it seems like no matter what I do I am hearing that anxiety voice stronger than ever, I started writing as a way to help me heal and the voice is louder here than anywhere else. It’s given me a sort of writer’s block like no other, I have about four posts sitting in my draft folder right now waiting to be finished.

I don’t have the patience or the energy right now to do any of them, this voice is here at the moment telling me no matter how much I try that it will always win the fight, even as I decorate my house it keeps telling me that no matter what I do this house will always be the one I had two miscarriages in.Read More »