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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