the passing storm

the tide is turning      waves are building           higher with each day      a build up of           tension                stress           until all is                drowning                     sinking                          suffocating                overcome by                     obligations                          responsibilities                               a task list so long                                    its a novel                     so many things                          so many pills                               so many, many things and pills                                    all piling up so high                                         so high                                              so…… Continue reading the passing storm


and these tired eyes stare blankly at the screen willing words of beauty to emerge but only tumbling thoughts and fumbling weary weight as fingers slip and slide ‘cross keyboard and I wonder is anything left of me when all are done and had their part or just this husk drawn to dust and fading…… Continue reading husk