Coming un done.
A window cracks on the exterior.
A rush of tears, my body heats, tears stream down my face, a release.
Emotions rise and curl and unfurl, remembering, wishing the past could return, unwind, be different, be relived and marvelled again and again.
I miss my Dad, I miss my Mum, I have lost my tribe.
Who is in my inner circle? Who is in my team?
Sensitive and emotional, I pose strong and confident. Predominantly I am a warrior.
Cracks form, shatter, shards fly everywhere, I am a teary, snotty, blubbering mess.
Why? Why is it so easy for some people? So challenging for others? No one is comparable really. We all face our battles. All unique, but similar. We are humans together in this race to succeed, be healthy, be our best, be loved, be adored, we rarely can just be.
Life feels like a constant race of being and doing. It is hard to switch off. I exhaust myself.
Dreams of my Dad trigger me early, my heart aches for him. We were brothers, soul mates, Father daughter, best friends. I want him back. I want them both back.
Grief hits me like a tsunami. I am washed away, drowning in sorrow. Held deep under water, struggling for breath. I know I will find my way to the surface again. I just need to wait for the wave to pass.
I can see the light stream through the aqua blue clear water; beckoning me to rise and shine and sparkle above the torrential depths of despair deep below the water line.
Relive, remember, cherish my past, this is all I have now.
Memories and photographs. I am obsessed with creating new ones, and holding onto old ones.
I don't want to forget. I am afraid my memories will slip through the cracks of my frantic busy mind.
I need to record my thoughts, so I don't lose them. Where do they go?
Remember. Connect. Understand. Empathy. Love. A strong embrace could cure.
Drifting. Floating. Resisting.
Creating. Reliving. Dreaming. Aiming. Trying to just be, and be okay with me as a solo adventurer in this big wide world.
I hope you like my first poem! Something a little different from me, I did enjoy writing it, and will write more poetry in the future. I would love to hear your comments below.
Anita Oz x