Archive for May, 2021


Writing to a song…

Written to a Nickelback song. About suicide and depression because my brain took 8 words of the song and decided thats the way its going.

~…No freedom…~

Dark body

darker sky,

One quick deep cut

say goodbye,

Blood slips down

White sheets turn red,

Soaking into

this once clean bed,

Breathing shallower

barely there,

Empty pill bottle beside you

your almost there,

A ghost walking hallways

in this damn house,

You’ve screamed so loudly

yet your silent like a mouse,

There’s so much noise

inside your head,

You crave the silence

better off dead,

Depression anxiety

you’re alone spiralling down,

Everythings got to much

its making you drown,

Vision is fuzzy

your fading almost time,

Heart gives in to much struggle

flatline,

And your here

stood beside your bed,

Look down at glassy eyes

empty vessel gone dead,

Now you’ll get peace

you smile and say,

But its not gonna happen

things aren’t going your way,

The screaming is louder

there’s nowhere to hide,

The darkness more vivid

everythings on the slide,

You thought you be free

you were so wrong,

You’re a ghost in this houses hallways

and the nightmares know your song…x.

For the girls…

I awoke with a start as light flooded the room, slipping out of bed I ran to the window. I dont know specifically what woke me but as I looked out the wide sash window, the chaotic sight told me the house and gardens seemed like they were the sole target of the raging storms personal vendetta.

The wind howled as it pushed ferociously harder, scooping up the long bench on the patio and hurling it across the dark grass. The rain beat down a cacophony of roaring drums. The murderous sky lit up with a jagged silver blue, zig zagging downwards in a blaze of fury to engulf the large majestic oak tree on fire in a torrent of crackling and popping flames. One of its large branches displaced and slowly being dragged away by the wind, as the once mighty tree released both smoke and fire into the snapping wind. The lashing rain slowly trying to extinguish the flames.

But? In the lightnings brightness? I had clearly seen another horror, the river had burst its banks unable to cope with the torrential onslaught of rain, and was now creeping across the once lush lawn in a deluge of water, mud and bracken towards the house…

BANG! My door hit the wall as it flew open revealing both my cousin, my best friend and my younger sister.

“Thomas…” my sister Amber said fearfully.

“Where are the twins?” I replied whilst striding across the room towards the trio. My best friend Dominic was the first to turn back towards the hall as an almighty crash followed by shrieking and the sound of bare feet, that could be heard just above the din coming towards us.

My 10 year old twin brothers Lucian and Nicholas hurtled past, barging through us and diving into my bed with our frightened youngest sister Blaire.

All eyes looked to me. As the oldest at 22, I had been head of our family ever since all our parents died when dad’s boat sank while they were all on holiday together. Dominic, my cousin Liam, and my siblings and I, had all been left parentless just like that. And being the eldest by 10 months meant that I was thrown head first into being in charge and the one they all looked to…

Lightning again streaked across the sky, ripping through the storm clouds and brightening up the room.

“Shoes and coats everyone. We’ve got to be fast.” I said with more determination and confidence than I felt.

“With the flooded river fast approaching the house, its not safe here any more.”

I said a silent prayer as everyone got their things ready to leave. We would be okay. I am Thomas Kingsley. Head of the Kingsley family, and I would protect us all. I gave myself the pep talk my dad used to give, before grabbing Blaire’s teddy and leaving the room…

So… the above was written for my 2 younger girls. Its was simply to show that you can have “fun” with your descriptive words and not to be afraid of using them. “There are so many easier ways to write that.” My younger daughter said. But her elder sister pointed out that while there may be easier ways to write the same thing? When you write a story? You want the person reading it to be able to see, hear, smell and feel everything you write(love this girly!).

I’m not really any good at stories but hey, I try. While I’m still struggling to actually finish a poem, my drafts section is getting larger and larger and my notebooks pages are being filled, I thought I’d leave you this. Constructive criticism most definitely welcome! Or if you just want to tell me to stick with the poems? I agree! 🙂 I am still playing with words even though I’m quiet.

Massive happy hugs to you all at the other end of the wire.x.

16-05-21 or 05-16-21

Random thing I learnt about USA… the date is written different to the UK. Hence the title. I don’t have a title for this post. Its just Sunday and I’m going to write. I’ve started but have been unable to finish a total of 11 poems over the last few days. Thats good I guess. But as quick as I grasp the words? I lose them and go back to floating here in my empty space…

So here I am… here. Right here… maybe if I shuffle out some randomness, just let my mind run along my fingers and doodle all over the phone screen… maybe just fudging maybe a fudging piece of fudg… yeah… you get the drift… I’m just a little frustrated at my severe lack of me. I say me because to write is me. Words are me as much as music is me and the words are there. The depths of powerful emotions that allow me to write are swirling there because some of these songs I’ve been listening to all day have been pulling at them. I know the words are there. I just can’t release them and it makes me more and more frustrated because I KNOW that they are there. I’ve felt them crash against the depths of me as they’ve ebbed and flowed. Grrrrrr… Growl 😠

Well since I wrote that paragraph above⬆️ I’ve moved rooms twice, whistled the purrbaby to come in the house. We don’t shout him. We whistle. And I’ve contemplated chamomile tea. Why is called chamomile tea when there’s no actual tea in it? Shouldn’t it be called an infusion or something like that? Its after dinner time so it would be the chamomile and lavender one not just the plain chamomile anyway. Yeah these thoughts aren’t going where I want them to. The song just ending is Fire Away by Chris Stapleton. Good song. Today has been a country music day and yep, I’m a Kane Brown fan. I know I know… I herd you choke on your glass of wine at my admittance of liking country… oh?! You’ve got coffee? Sigh… I miss coffee 😔 Black coffee ☕ mmmmm… yeah I miss that. But I’m caffeine free and decaffeinated isn’t real coffee. Oh… ooopppssss… you’re drinking decaffeinated coffee. My apologies. No offence meant. These songs are skipping on and currently none are hitting that spot that I need them to. They will. Given time…

Current song… Highway don’t care by Tim McGraw ft Taylor Swift.

…every time you look my way I drown in those deep pool brown eyes. You laugh, that sexy grin and I can’t help myself but fall deeper and deeper into you. And I see it, oh how I see it, you know exactly what you’re doing with each and every look, every smile, small touch… you lean a little closer and my breath hitches, I lose balance on keeping my body under control as a light shiver runs over me at your bare skin not so innocently brushing against mine, everything disappears around me as I struggle to achieve a coherent clean though. And you know, oh how you know giving me that oh so sexy smile…

⬆️⬆️ written to Kane Brown’s Heaven.

There is kinda so much I want to write but I give up tonight. I’m trying. Thats what I know… I’m trying. I’m trying to find a way to unlock those words and write like I breathe again. I’ve got ideas why I’m struggling so hard to write, but thats for another day.

I will be better. Thats what I know. That what I will be. Better.

Song to finish with… Slow dance in a parking lot by Jordan Davis.

If I could hug you? I would.

I read your words and wanted to reach out but I can’t. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. Because I’ve always envied you. You’ve always seemed to me to have your shit together. To be strong. I feel like a sinner because I sinned in judging your book by its cover and I should know better than that seeing as I’m usually only hanging on by a couple of threads. I should know better because I’ve perfected my mask for the world so no one sees just how broken I am. So that only a couple of people know I was very close to taking my life earlier this year. I should know better to judge I’m sorry. I’m sorry because its you. And damn reading your words, your posts… it hit me hard. I judged bad. Because I understood every word thats in those posts and I cried for you. Not in a bad way but because I care.

I wanted to ring you, message you or maybe even email you but if I rang? I’d have to talk and I don’t do talking. You might say how’s you? And I’d have to lie and say I’m good and push further into me. Blocking myself off more. You might message something back and then what do I do? Do I reply? If I replied you might ring. If I didn’t reply you might ring. My anxiety building higher as I thought about this a million different ways pushing myself towards a meltdown by over thinking but I can’t help it. I could email you but say what? How do I put it into words that I understand and your not alone and I care and miss you and I’m afraid to and your family and I love you. I can’t. I got stuck in my own anxieties and then got afraid. I failed. So I did what I know… I pulled further inside myself and built another layer around me.

And now I’m here again… Reading again. I want to give you a hug but this stupid touch thing has got so much worse. But at the same time its also weird… there are safe people. I can talk to safe people, maybe hug a couple of them you’re safe because I know your family. Because we spent years growing up together. Because I know you. Because I used to shout at you to get up for school. Because you used to take the piss out of the annoying brat that was me but at the same time? You got it first that I couldn’t cope with the disruption which led to me bawling my eyes out into a tin of dog food. Because you were a know-it-all but I looked up to you and wanted to be as fearless as you were(I’m never going to admit that to you though!). So your a safe person. But I’m still afraid. I’m lucky if I talk to 1 person a month now face to face that doesn’t live in this house. People are scary. Going out of the house is scary. I rarely go out anymore. But you’re safe because its you. Love you masses.x.x.

So here i am… still wondering how or even if I can message you. I guess its more im afraid of you replying. Gosh I’m such an awkward bitch… sigh… I don’t know what to do… in head? We go for a walk where there are no people(because I can’t have another panic attack because I don’t do people). We just walk and random talk but I need to get out my head where I gloss over all the bad. Stupid head… I should go to sleep.

For Jay. Love you and care for you always.x.

Thank you…

Today… This evening… thank you. Thank you for finally making me feel. To you they were just videos of your drive home but not to me. I saw the road signs, the trucks and cars and looked at the licence plates(because as they’re not English they fascinate me). Then the rain came down and I wondered if you remembered how much I absolutely adore rain? How the rain is my favourite weather and always stirs something in me. I flicked back over time over our many many random conversations… the latest again being food. My gosh we talk so much about food… recipes, different styles of cooking, spices, vegetables… sitting here a ghost of a smile pops up at our conversation about steak(which I still say is yucky and I don’t like it). But I’ve moved away from the point.

The whole point is you made me feel. Just for that moment I felt alive. With the hell I’ve been going through, the not feeling. How I’ve accepted this emptiness this devoid of feeling. You made me feel. I felt the rain hitting my skin as you drove your car talking about the rain. I felt those pitter patters rushing down and hitting my skin in sharp icy cold drops. I felt the small sharp sting and how my body shuddered at their touch. I felt the cold rain run in rivulets down me. Soaking my hair and running down my neck my clothes soaked to my skin. The goosebumps rushing along my arms and then across my body at the cold. My teeth chattering as my inner temperature dropped at being pulled so low because of the onslaught of rain beating down like tiny little knives. My hair trying to fight its hardest to curl back into its natural spirals as the rain soaks it pulling it all straight making me look bedraggled. All that from a few videos… You did it. You made me feel….

Its hard to explain it that soft stir inside me as something that slumbers moved just a little, just enough so I know it hasn’t died. Just enough to give me hope. And thats what I need… hope. Such a small word. Only 4 letters long. Such an infinite meaning… hope.

I’m having days and days and days and says of this… this greyness…

..I have wanted to give up more than once. I have been letting my anxieties rule me and have allowed myself to become comfortably numb. This fortified dam I have intricately built around me to cut myself off from everything and everyone. I’ve been so afraid of never feeling again. Of never writing again. I’ve been so afraid that I’ve lost my words forever. Because if I’ve lost them? Then who am I? To write is what I know. To be consistently surrounded by whirlwinds of words, even when I’m in my barren place. Those whirlwinds have always been there mocking and not letting me touch. But since February? They have gone. They left. There have been none. And that has scared me more than not feeling anything. Words, like music, are my blood. But you made me feel. I didn’t say much to the videos but? Here on my blog? Here I’ve written. Here I’m saying thank you. Thank you for being you. Thank you for random videos driving home and foreign license plates and roads and road signs, for trucks, cars, driving on the wrong side of the road, building and grass that usually gives up but instead is green because of rain, super straight roads and traffic lights above your head, endless presets on the radio and when your singing to the songs, the wipers going from slow to fast to keep up and car tail lights glowing in the pouring rain… Thank you for making me feel.

.x.

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