Wednesday, 12 April 2017


Put in my place,
a hanging basket of weeds,
for all to mock,
I hear you say 'forgive'.

Not knowing how to start,
I ask you to remember me,
as light begins to stalk,
Your frank assurance drops,
pick-pocketing the fear
of these ticking clocks,
with a word in my ear,
'Today you will be with me'
in paradox.


  1. A dear friend's husband overdosed a month ago at the age of 32. For some reason your words fill my soul as I have stood by her through the loss, the condemnation, the anger and fear and staggering grief. Such things are a paradox and so entwined...although I'm quite sure your inspiration for this piece was nothing of the sort. "Your frank assurance drops,
    pick-pocketing the fear of these ticking clocks,"...I simply adore this.

    1. So sorry to hear about your friend's loss Chantel. It's amazing how words can reach across timezones and continents and mean something out of context. Glad that your friend has you to help her at this tough time x

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