Master of my fate?
What makes you anxious? – the cocoon asked .
Immediate response ?
I want to run away .
The cotton wool opportunity of turning into some thing I’ve never been fills me a desire to run.
I’ve always wanted to fly!
Darwinite if it means i can feel fire
In my belly
Leave behind the sycophants of past.
Presented with the discomfort before the freedom installs a stony face
I finally replied: I want to run from your question because the master of my own fate made me question why I didn’t say I’m the master of my destiny
I sat on the toilet waiting for an answer
A brainwave to collide with my why.
I am merely mortal
Hence I will laugh at that which or who makes me feel alive
Here I stand
On a mountain 🗻 of solid gold
Praise be for the choices I’ve made.
The toxicity of my past ends with recriminations with my inner foe
Good riddance to the self-destruction of the days now old
A clean closet reveals a door ajar
a journey of new beginnings
If I vow to lift the cloak of doubt
Find the courage to replace it with hope.
Daisy not a death sentence
D utifully fights death with hope
A ccepts pain will help shed its old purpose
I n light it seeks for a rebirth – instincts prevail
S adness embrace – for loss will lead to freedom
Y esterday is a forget me not – a death sentence.
Nature is immortal
Swinging beneath the oak tree
I hear the tinkle of her laughter
I feel the breeze light
Peek through the tops of branches, undiluted sunshine ☀️flashes
it’s eyes looks down upon me.
The sight of the flowers so striking
I remember them so vividly.
My gaze momentarily suspended
beats blessed to be in this moment.
Mother and child together preserved in this portrait
My memory states nature is immortal for eternity.
Tell me what you want to know.
Rainy days included, storms do pass
Under the bridge the homeless huddle around a fire trying not to cause too much trouble.
Together their eyes vacant, some stumble some stutter.
Hoping society will give them a second glance, a second chance.
We all have a different interpretation of what the word hope means to us.
To want something to happen or to be true, and usually have a good reason to think that it might
The Cambridge dictionary definition of hope.
So I’ve decided to think about what the word Hope means to me.
Hope is the ability to see the silver lining in one’s darkest moments.
Hope is about having the strength to hold on to a belief that no matter how scary and overwhelming life can be at times -we can get through those moments because we have done before.
Hope is holding into the belief that we can get better. We can grow and achieve our goals, dreams, and become the person we want to or aspire to be.
We all find different meanings in words. There is no wrong answer.
I decided to start writing ✏️ down words that I associate with the word Hope
Here is 3-minute Acrostic poem I wrote about hope 🙏
H ear heavenly angels descent.
O pen ears; wings in full flight.
P assion stirred; Fears dissolve.
E motions soar; new day begun.
Second Life- Mort tell et tea
* This Borderline poem was written a week before I attempted to take my life (again).I ended up in Critical Care in a coma for 5 days & in ICU for a further 6 days. I was discharged from hospital on the 21st of May 2020 *
Please, make sense of reality.
Use a stream of consciousness
words to vent,
A discovery in recovery
Fathom out sense because words are only as good as the interpreter.
Could add literary success to a Gravatar profile in an ebook
Add few drafts poured into that fulminate crunched up chaos.
This doesn’t invoke a feeling of literary success.
Struggling to convey all words .
Reciprocated words are often misinterpreted
Another attempt to convey these words
Perhaps one person will see this array of affray spread its torment defecating the inner spiral case of the
It swirls descends these steps in every way.
The moment to call it a day
This draws an outline forever have to have the last say.
Hear me proclaim
Don’t want to carry on living this way
It overstays — the bailiff texts for rent arrears
What is laid down?
I’m not done yet.
Hanging by a thread it’s tethered
Seen many days to identify as weathered
Hanging by a thread
This is my life purpose!
Final chance to meet my fate
Waited for this all my life
A mystery date with a severed soul mate.
Taught & tethered & weathered is this rope
I’m no tight rope walker.
I’ve become my own word stalker
Shoulda, coulda, woulda arrested these rants before my digress
Wait in this hidden corner.
Evidently I’ve learned that survival is innate.
It ain’t easy to digest the days I’m not blessed to eat from a plate.
keep rising up despite a life times worth of trip-ups.
Until I die
One fine day
I’ll face the final exit of my mortality
I’ll know the truth
Either way it’s gonna end up with a body
Subconsciously know why I feel
It’s called humanity
What do I know about that damp dark corner entertaining souls I’ve yet to meEt?
Going to have to wait for a future promising chance we haven’t dreamt of taking yet.
If I lose all memory
Forget those words
soggy, wet, lost to another realm of the bereft
Lest I forget.
I write to recover.
Be happy or die trying.
Simultaneously a resilient species & inconveniently inept