Once Upon A Time

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Once Upon A Time

Mornings always roll around,
and the stillness in the air
creates a facade of togetherness,
like we’re two normal people,
and you’re not some kind of monster
who roars nightly, and
my wilderness.
I’ll never understand your chaotic mind,
the savagery of your assault,
both physically and mentally,
leaves me aching for the calm that always follows;
the rough winds of your mind
bluster your otherwise motionless soul,
and you rail against me because I am
closest to you: your true love, so you say.

Once upon a time,
when I believed in fairytales,
you were my prince, and my world was love,
but your dark clouds oppressed me
all too soon, and
I couldn’t breathe because your air stifled me,
and the first time you battered me,
raining down your skewed
sense of love and punishment,
I knew one of us would drown.

The tides rise so high,
each time covering more of my
rainbow-coloured body,
leaving fresh water marks
that only we can see.

The hurricane arrived last night—
the one I’d been dreading for seven long years—
it tore through the town of me,
ravaging my landscape.
I only just managed to stay afloat,
and the rescuers almost came too late,
but now it’s over—
except, it isn’t, not really
I know you’re a storm I will need to
weather once again,
but for now all is quiet,
and the crisp air cools my
broken bones.

Broken Heart

This is another poem I wrote in response to a prompt. This time, it was to write about the sad moments in life. Needless to say, I could relate to this one.

Broken Heart

It doesn’t matter how long you’re waiting for

the inevitable to crash through your life,

when it does, you aren’t prepared—

how can you be?—

how can anyone steady their resolve enough

to be ready to lose their loved one’s love


The thing nobody ever admits is

when parents say they will always be there for you,

they lie,

one day (maybe not so far away)

they will die and you

will crumple and watch—helpless—as

parts of you break off and float away,

and you won’t know how to put yourself

together again,

and you question if you even want to.

The world—always scary—

becomes a place in which you inhabit the periphery,

perching as far away from others as possible,

waiting to fall into the depths,

from where there is no going back.

But who cares?

The well-meaning people

(who have so much wisdom you want to

scream at them to


tell you time heals,

and to remember the good times,

but don’t they know it’s the good times that are killing you?

Without the laughter and love and memories of

that video your Dad searched everywhere to find

when you were ill and he just wanted you to smile,

getting over it would be so much easier.

I’m not sure about the “loved and lost” theory,

I never could figure why pain is better than


Still, I love,

and with all my heart.

How fracked up is that?


Secrets slicing through
si le nc e,
seeds of insanity—deeply sown—
spreading poisonous doubts
over what is


F r  a g m  e  n t  s   of


sharp, poignant,
f  l  o



behind my faded eyes;
stills of life,

tured  and


long enough
for me to know their
I badly need to





change the cassette that’s
looping my mind,
stop the voice who terrifies me . . .


I wonder


Jaws of fatigue eat me,
morsel by
m  o  r  s  e  l
I’m barely here any more,
can you see me?


My fingernails are
starting to ache and
letting go would be so
e a s y