decisions decisions


Decisions are painful

the big and the small

internal debates

become internal wars

do I tell this to those

that put questions inside

or continue to hide it

refuse to confide

Mind you what’s the point

they can’t help

they can’t mend it

it’s my mind in turmoil

no reason to share it

My black and white thinking

is turning to grey

but during the phase out

somehow lost my way

and now the confusion

that grey seems to be

unlike they all promised

so much harder for me


In the hospital car park



hold on

rest in the pain

they look back

worry in their eyes


‘Are you OK’

Nod, smile

watch them walk away

let the tears well 

but don’t let them fall


until sanctuary is reached

let the car absorb them

let the pain go

screams held tight


tight behind my teeth

only I hear them

as the tears fall

cool water

slowly trickles

to my chin


let no one see

behind the mask

hand raised

to keep it in place


push it back down

lock away the pain



TwistedTwisted mind

twisted soul

I’ve got lost in the turns

twists and twirls

my mind has taken

I look at my hands

and they seem separate


my mind twists

again I’m not myself

time is needed to adjust

once I do I can function

until it once again



turns me against myself

the sense is lost


Brushed off


I reach out a hand

a finger towards hope

only to find it dashed away

the lady behind the desk

I had pinned such expectation on

the light extinguished

in two spoken sentences

a slip of green paper

and her turning her back.

Regurgitated words heard so many times

the same things I’ve heard

since I was a child

exercise, it will help

think positive, it will help

talk to work, it will help

it will help

it’s the witching hour


Awake with a start

from a snooze on the sofa

It’s witching hour and my mind spins

a sudden remembrance

of work left unfinished

Quick! press the button

to arouse the technology

place it back on my lap

where it spends so much time

numbers and letters spin off fingertips

living up to the expectations

piled on my shoulders

Now the window to the world is reopened

It calls to me

begging to show it’s addictive images

to let me speak

to those who would understand