Poem 99

Anxiety grips like I’m caught in a vice

Unsure how to question what is on my mind

Balancing desires to understand

With fear of rejection at your hand

Longing to know what you truly feel

When the chemicals take over and change what is real

In my head ; how my mind tells me you see me

That I’m not worth the time. I’m like an acne.

Always there but never desired

A constant presence leaving you mired

Tarnishing you with unwanted reminders

That I’m always there, even when quiet.

Anxiety grips and all I can see

Is that I, am not, worthy.


Poem 93

(I found this one hidden away in a desk. I think it was the start of a song but I’ve decided to share it as it is.)

There are no words

There’s no name

There’s no answer to guide this pain.

There’s no life

Nowhere to run

No recompense for the soul that is gone.

But I’m here

And I’m strong

And I hope that I’ll keep fighting on.

Day by day

Week by week

I can’t let my pain be my defeat.

Poem 92

The final days
As they draw near
Allow for reflections
To become much more clear.
Visions and actions
Embracing the change
New adventures to begin
Extending my range
Of skills and knowledge,
Applying my thoughts
Tacking challenges
And beating the odds
A story never ends
If it holds on to a part
Of your identity and self,
And your heart.

Poem 87

My knees have buckled from underneath
News of happiness breaks me in uneven two
Joy of the future for my family
Pain for the indirect child
Not born to me, although to be mine by God.
Contradictions in my mind
Positive sadness for the coming tide
I’m broken, that’s all, simple as.
My grief still yields a wealthy purse
Its strings still hanging over me by a thread
Alternating between weak and strong
The unspoken feeling of loss still dictates my every move.
One day, I hope, they be born of me,
As well as of you.

Poem 85

My mind wanders off to
What could have been
What could now be
What I might never see
The smile of a child
Half mine, half yours
The culmination of
Years of love
And desire for wanting
To hold you so near
To carry you inside
To kiss you, my dear.
My fears take over that
I may never see
A child of my own
…what would happen to me?

Poem 84

A broken face

Once full of dreams

Glints with memories of what could have been

If futures had altered

And paths foreseen

The shadows of the world, within.

I see the path

That calls to you

Whispering and dragging, pulling you to

The way that life

Is meant to be lived

Full of smiles, truths, and wonderment.

I beckon you

One day to see

What you deserve; you deserve to be free.

Reflections: who I was and who I am.

Over the last week I have opened up truths about the last year to a new friend. It wasn’t painful to be honest for once, it was refreshing. But something was painful.

I decided to write a short play for an event, which I did. Then I thought I should get back to the play I started writing last year. I found it and read through it again to remind myself where I needed to write more. That’s when it got painful. I threw my soul into those words and they bit me. I felt melancholy and close to tears the rest of the day, only feeling better when meeting the earlier mentioned friend.

Yesterday, I played the song I wrote almost a year ago which defines the miscarriage for me. I’ve played it a number of times but, this time, I started crying. Maybe it is just tiredness or maybe everything is feeling raw at the moment.

My husband thinks that it is the time of year. It is a year since I started writing again and I started learning to recover. Looking back on who I was then is like looking at a different person most of time time. I can sometimes see that anger though, glinting back up. I walk with my nephew and people smile at me. I don’t have that in the rest of my life.

Being a mother changes the way the world views you. Being a mother without a child changes the way you view the world.

Poem 83

Parallel lives, parallel worlds

Looking left and right at all that could be

Seeing the joy, seeing the sadness

Seeing the heartbreak bestowed on me

Now that you’re gone, returned to the ground

Now that you’re gone…

…I fear I’ll be found.

Poem 81

The sun warms my aching mind
Torn up over the life that has passed me by
A year of wonder, a year of pain
A year of not knowing if I’ll be the same
As once I was, just 12 months ago
As once I was when you made me whole.

The sun warms my healing heart
Reminding me that all things scar
They make us stronger, they make us stand tall
They show us that we recover when we fall
Down upon the worst of luck but, with love
I will always make it up.

Poem 80

Remember me
When you look in your mind
Remember me
And then you will find
Glimpses of the person
You knew that I was
Shimmers of the person
No longer with us.
But, look closer
And then you will see
She’s there in the shadows
Hiding from me.
Biding her time
Until she’s ready to be
That brave, stronger person
That brave, stronger me.