Nostalgia

This one is for the man who helped me beyond what he will ever know. For the moments of conversation and kind words. For paying interest even if fleeting. For showing me there is something more to me and new posibilites. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart for your kindness and cheekiness.

Tram wires cross Melbourne skies
Cut my red heart in two
My knuckles bleed down Johnston street
On a door that shouldn’t be in front of me

Twelve thousand miles away from your smile
I’m twelve thousand miles away from me
Standing on the corner of Brunswick
Got the rain coming down and mascara on my cheek

Oh whisper me words in the shape of a bay
Shelter my love from the wind and the rain

Crow fly be my alibi
And return this fable on your wing
Take it far away to where gypsies play
Beneath metal stars by the bridge

Oh write me a beacon so I know the way
Guide my love through night and through day

Only the sunset knows my blind desire for the fleeting
Only the moon understands the beauty of love
When held by a hand like the aura of nostalgia

Thanksgiving

Some days/ weeks are a complete right off. I woke up this morning full of joy that I was meeting up with Beth. I moved my head and uh oh, ran straight downstairs to puke. Another migraine, I’m averaging one a week at the moment. My neck was stiff, I felt like I was on a boat at sea, reeling all over. Always in my right eyeball, it felt ready to explode. I looked for a meme to post and found this…

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Anyone who knows me will see it bears an uncanny resemblance. So anyway I took Imigram, it didn’t work, so I cancelled my day. I was supposed to be at physio for this very thing, but not today.

All day I’ve puked or slept. All day my dogs have cuddled me. I can’t tell you how thankful I am for their un-judgemental adoration. They know when you’re down and are there for you no matter. My two are naughty but they give so much love.

Recently, when I’ve been in crisis, the RSPCA helped me out big time. They took my two babies and housed them for weeks. Before this, when I got back from staying at my sisters, I was distressed to see that both had lost weight, and Ida had a terrible ear infection. Out of all the break up this was the worst bit, seeing that my pups had been neglected. Nothing makes me more angry. But they still show more love than you’d know and are my shadows.

The RSPCA looked after them whilst I got things together, and into a place of safety. After their stay they were returned to me as beautiful and healthy as I’d left them. They have a scheme which helps families in refuge and they agreed to help me. For this I will be eternally grateful. I have donated to them, though it’s not a lot, I will always be thankful to them. I hope in the future I will be in a position to be a foster carer. In the meantime if you can foster a dog or make a donation please think seriously about doing it.

My thanksgiving today goes out to my pups and the RSPCA.

 

Hawthorn (Maytree)

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She awoke.

It was so dark she didn’t know if she was really there.

She inhaled.

Her face full of the metallic earth, all mud, and rain, and rot.

She twitched.

Her fingers grasped the crisp mulch that seeped into her clothes.

She rose.

It was so dark her eyes could only make out shades of black and blue.

She felt.

Her hand reached up to her matted hair and pulled at a leaf.

She blinked.

The shadows became giants, then trees so tall they scraped the sky.

She noticed.

How much more she could see if she stopped and waited.

She discovered.

The moon shone between the holes in the canopy providing just enough.

She moved.

Clambering to her feet she stretched her damp limbs.

She listened.

Around her the world was slow but more noisy than she ever knew.

She considered.

The path ahead was her way out, why she had come here; to die.

She turned.

The path back from where she came still remained.

She paused.

As she did her eye caught sight of a tree; clusters of flowers as bright as the stars.

She was drawn.

It seemed to become the night sky, full of hope in the dark.

She neared.

And walked with open arms into the mass of branches discovering thorns sharp and true.

She cried.

Each snare snatched at her clothes and tore at her skin, but she pushed forward.

She persisted.

Feeling something ok was on the other side, knowing it was something different.

She emerged.

On the other side of the hawthorn there was a path she hadn’t seen before.

She bravely walked.

With leaves in her hair, the moon in her eyes, and blood on her skin.

She began.

A new life on a path she didn’t know but one that could never be the one she’d trod before.