If you are a serial singleton and you dance to a spinsters sound then February most of all is the cruellest month around. Society turns to the brightest red raining chocolate and jewellery everyone has a lobster well, except people like me. They'll link their fingers and profess their love hog all the good eateries cock their head and ask out loud Is there something wrong with thee? Because in the month of February when society is pairing some of us are all alone and have lost all sense of caring.
Tag: writing
NaPoWriMo – 3/30 – Fan Poem to Shonda Rhimes
I'm the girl who dreams of sunshine but loves dancing in the rain I fight the fight, just to feel fine it's a battle inside my brain. I found you at Seattle Grace I bonded with dark and twisty and now I have a scandalous face and a book that's rather witty. The words you wrote spoke to my soul I spent a long time in fear you've inspired me to reach my goals, I'm going to say YES this year! I wish I'd been on that kitchen shelf and heard the tales you had to tell I imagine even a christmas elf would have been enchanted by your spell. So, THANK YOU for being you and thank you for Mer and Olivia through them I've learnt some truths or at least some good trivia! Shonda, I am totes addicted I HAVE to hear your words There's no way I could have predicted how your work has changed my world.
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NaPoWriMo – 2/30 – Family
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#iamgrateful for my friend
You are the needle to my thread
You are my greatest mystery
You are the voice inside my head
You are the co-author to my story.
You see me where I’m standing
You keep me on my feet
You hear me when I’m whispering
You narrate our lives in tweets
We dance like no ones watching
We sing to the highest note
We laugh until we’re crying
We wrote a book of silly quotes
I’m thankful that I met you
I’m thankful you’re my friend
I’ll never ever forget you
ours is a story, without an end.
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Written for R U Okay Day 2015
I started writing this weeks ago for R U Okay Day but forgot to post as I got distracted with life. But here it is. Better late than never…
there is
thunder
in my thoughts
this enemy
has been caught
today
my attention
shorts
as a silver lining
is sought
the curtains veil
my weary eyes
this lead weight smile
my only disguise
people keep asking
why?
It is what it is.
Sigh.
Every day my thoughts
climb this wall
heeding to the worldly call
A soldier must never fall
Every day, the same old game
screaming silently in mental pain
the heart is beating
the lungs are breathing
but the thoughts want to blame
and escape
the suffocating shame
of the toxic enemy
haunting this brain.
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Dear …,
You’re bird shit on my window
every day, I don’t see you
but if you left, I’d miss you.
You’re a cloud around my dreams
try as I might, I can’t see
how you could possibly be.
You’re the abstract on my wall
images painting the clues
can’t you see my, your, our truth.
You’re a voice drawn on my phone
speaking words I cannot hear
I just don’t care – that’s my fear.
I’m the unicorn you wanted
I’m creative and I flaunt it
I’m screaming for you… can you hear it!
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white noise mornings
I’m a bi-racial unicorn
just living life and going strong.
I got my non-fat-mocha-latte
a pick me up from last nights party.
Morning time is always buzzin’
social media all a fussin’
Way up North the earth is shaking
Way down South they’re all a baking.
Mr Z has spoken honest words
two links up from the dying birds.
Mysteries showed on a foreign shore
but that was it, they say no more.
Sports fans are afraid to boo
just in case the media shoot
no need for questions, no need for why
that’s there story, don’t bother to cry.
It’s all white noise in my ears
propoganda, sensationalist fear.
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winter
Winter is her weakness
a body trapped in bleakness
shaking and aching
the darkness enchanting
her hopes bequeathed
as she falls like leaves
windows fill with teariness
as she is locked inside by weariness
waiting to see again
waiting to hear again
waiting to sing again
Tomorrow starts with latte
the fuel of fearful Friday
and the fire inside her ignites
as Winter continues to bite.
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discontinued doll
Like an old weary discontinued doll
She breathed all her music to her last breath
and now she is thrown down the dark rabbit hole
no one wants her, there is no one left.
Tears streaming down those glossy plastic eyes
her dreams deflated like an old balloon
times bumps and bruises can not be disguised
as her heart drifts further from the blue moon.
The truth radiates through these broken parts
a truth that cannot be written or said
a truth that has been there right from the start
whispering quietly inside her head.
They say it’s better to have loved and lost
so cherish the moments before they are tossed.
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Postcards picture…
Postcards picture perfect days
that magnified glasses will betray
these fantastical notions
of still quiet oceans.
A mind, like a carousel spinning
knows something is missing
like a broken doll part
all alone from the start.
Dancing to someone else’s beat
unable to feel her own feet
a marionette of expectations
pulls away in every direction.
All I need is someone to lean on
a strong arm to keep me strong
A kindred spirit to harness
the secrets and the darkness.
Postcard pictures perfect days
that hazel eyes will betray
with the worn imperfections
of a weary souls reflection.
Charlie Ann Alford 
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