Inside an Introvert

Everything has a story,

the who, what, why and where.

I spend my life journaling

and watching them, over there.

Our stories come through music,

through books and on the screen,

they make us laugh out loud

and sometimes even scream.

I’m trying to find my story

but I’ve been locked away by time

I never really grew up

so there’s nothing on this line.

These hazel eyes feel empty,

the tears I’v been holding back

what’s the use in crying?

I don’t know how to react.

Who is this blank person,

glaring back at me?

Is there anything inside her?

I find, I can’t breathe.

I drive the road, unchartered

my past clings to the mirror

I don’t know what is out there

I can’t see what’s in my future.

I see the tree’s sparkle,

and there I find my peace

Crackling bacon and laughter

snug in a winter fleece.

I tell myself I don’t need them

I’m happy driving alone

but all my dreams include them

I think of them as home.

How do I break down this wall?

How do I engage?

I just want to wake up.

I want to be on their page.

This soliloquy could be endless

I could write from dawn to dusk

But the world is outside waiting,

and I have to try, I must.

An Untitled Life

 

 I like to live the way I want to live

in my own company, completely free.

My choices. I don’t ask you to forgive

coz I only answer to one person. Me. 

I’ve been cleaning out yesterdays wardrobe,

my boots and pack are asleep on the shelf

neighbours to treasures from across the globe

above the costumes, that make me myself.

I bought sunflowers because they make me smile.

I have Frankie for when I want to escape.

My Sharpies are defenders of my creative trials

as I colour the pieces of my landscape.

My Chinese lanterns hang over Big Ben,

reflecting my memories of magical Earth,

collection of moments; who, what and when,

my friends as I descend, from birth to hearse.

 

Composed upon a hill

Breathing out my thoughts,

words formed upon Queenstown Hill;

“I am. I am here”.

Diagonal steps

long before the beginning

my road keeps growing.

Moments, I can

say goodbye to past me

just remember to breath.

Benches are made for rest

as I ascend the valley

dodging the boulders.

An iron gate creaks open

I follow ancient steps

in the winter chill.

The road changes

from forest to jagged rocks

the mountains are my compass.

The sun will keep time moving

but forever will wait

it’s just another moment

it’s just another story

it’s just my journey.