Bursting

Need the words today;

The space that aches in my chest

Is calling for words

To hold the hurt.

Pressing the page:

Paper stretched to translucence

By feelings too big.

Feelings to carve on slate

Or skin

But certainly too big

To keep within.

Paper wins and so I build.

Sinking into the deep unthink

Of curving ink.

I burst the inner bubble:

(The one I thought was full of

Wolves and stretchy screams)

To find a flood of

Paint and song and dance

That needed me to give it only

Half a chance.

Mat Leave

Watering can, little shoes,

April sun, baby blues,

Wet socks, soggy flowers,

Tired eyes, long hours.

 

Chubby cheeks, half-formed words,

Drone of cars, songs of birds,

Deepest love, smothered rage,

Silent protest, mother’s cage,

 

Eager eyes, sticky hugs,

New to nature, eating bugs,

Scraped knees, mummy kiss it,

‘When it’s gone,’ they say, ‘you’ll miss it.’

 

In fresh air, short of breath,

Should he nap? What if: cot death?

Filled nappy, teatime tears,

Guilt, resentment, shameful fears.

 

Fences, hedges, walls divide

So many of us trapped inside,

Feeling we are not enough,

Scared to say we find it tough.

 

I find it hard. How do you find it?

Do you ever wish you could unwind it?

Do you cry on cold baked beans

And plug your babies into screens?

 

Join the club. Come and share.

There’s others like us everywhere.

When we hide our fear and pain,

Depression smugly smiles again.