I need to write down my sadness,
Although words won’t take it away.
The worries and fears I’m holding,
Endlessly promise to stay.
I couldn’t sleep last night,
Turning.
The pit of my stomach is weak.
I can’t hold the words or the wisdom they keep.
I tell myself it’ll be fine.
I lie to myself it will be fine.
I pray to all I don’t believe in it will be fine.
Because I don’t know what I’ll do if it isn’t.
I don’t know how I will let go of the pain if it isn’t.
I’ll hold it.
I know I will.
And even when my fingers are turning purple.
I wont relent.
Waiting at the end of a tone,
For hope.
I’m waiting at the end of a tone and the ringing keeps ringing.
Tinnitus.
Unrelenting.
Unresting.
But I forgive the lack of communication.
That I understand.
What I don’t understand is how or why.
And it’s those questions that burn my eyes.
I’ll laugh and I’ll smile.
And for a moment I forget.
But then comes instant regret
Because how could I forget?
This is unnerving,
Undeserving.
I want to breathe but I can’t breathe.
Figments of my imagination
Wrap their hands around my neck.
I take in oxygen,
Still breathing,
But nothing fills my chest.
I look in a mirror,
I’m not me.
The face that looks back,
Is unknown.
I’m no longer the person I once knew.
Same eyes, same lips,
Just something askew.
Nothing new.
I’ve become more critical,
Self-analytical.
These thoughts are despicable,
At least they are fixable,
Mental not visual,
These marks leave me miserable.
Reduced to the minimal,
At least that’s the principle,
But I have yet reached
My pinnacle.
And even though I am cynical,
I believe I can do it all.
One word at a time,
And I’ll rewrite this story of mine.
– by Jennifer Pickering.
I haven’t written, outside of my big book project, in a long time and i use poetry as a release for emotion. I have a lot I need to release right now so I thought returning here withe a verse or two would be a good place to start. It may be rushed but that’s ok. I got it out and that’s all that matters.
Jen x
Jennifer Pickering 