To return…

 

I sit here with a borrowed pen

That i forgot to give back;

 

From the lovely staff at the hotel down the road.

 

I listen to Jeff Buckley and try ‘learning to fly’

Over and over again;

 

I want to cry but I won’t.

Yet I do.

 

I reflected yesterday on what I have lost.

 

Today.  My hair brush.  Last week my keys.

Probably boxed up somewhere in my car with a bunch of unnecessary salvaged items.

 

 

 

I rewind 6 months;

My dreams my hopes

My goals are certain.

I have a house

I rewind 4 months to a broken record.

I talk to my father about my vast dreams,

My future Ambitions,

And I am Determined.

 

I rewind 10 years of dreaming for my children…

Sewing hems,

Fixing broken hearts and skinned knees.

Four years ago I believed

….of Fairytales

 

I am a mother of 2

Scared and uncertain.

 

But I am a dreamer.

I am determined.

 

I am certain.

I am a survivor

No home just a place,

No job,

No protector.

A mother who rebukes my pain.

 

Those who rebuke me as I have of my own without intent.

My own mother.  My very heart.

 

I am the woman fighting the system for her rights.

 

In my own warfare with a peirced rock that is my own heart.

That I stole from my father with tears for him to somehow come back and save me from this mess.

 

My heart bleeds for my future.

 

I sit here with my borrowed wifi.

 

With a peice of paper i do not own.

 

It is my daughters.

 

I contemplate

My loss

My hurt

My future

 

My own disappointment.

I am broken,

I wait each day

With a means to type the words that are forever gone.

For that is all I can do;

For myself

 

For my children.

 

I hope.

Hold.  On.  Pain.

Ends 🐺

 

 

 

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