Photo by Megan te Boekhorst on Unsplash
Poetry

Dear diary…

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Dear diary…
I’m still awake at 3 in the morning
3.42 to be precise
I just can’t switch off my racing mind
Because I remembered that thing I said
Which may have caused offence
Or not
But it’s there
Then I remember that night I bled.

Dear reflective journal…
Last night
Terrible
Right now coffee and caffeine filled drinks
To keep me going
Amazing how my mind distracts me from
Memory processing
Allowing for healing
Maybe because no one thought to teach
That it’s ok to feel
That it is within safety, one heals.

Dear Samsung notepad…
Fleeting thoughts and sentences
May be worth capturing
I may get inspired to expand
Or leave as quotes
Turn it into a story or a book.
The sentence,
God only gives you what you can handle
And ‘he’ heals
Or is it that crappy experiences
And no survivor spirit
Will cause one
To hurt another
The cycle goes on forever
Until one says enough.

Dear napkin at random lunch cabin hut thing…
I wonder what stories are behind these faces that surround me
How was that psyche built
Which makes one talkative
One extremely uncomfortable
And another happy silent.

Dear word document…
If they saw beauty
In mysteriously strange places
Life in my eyes
Would they have stopped in the midst of their act
Still terrifies me so
Makes my mind explode from time to time
Keeping me awake many nights
Only to find a well of strange peace inside?

Dear me and you…
I hold a story
So do you
I hope you own it
I hope I do too
Sometimes I wish what it could be like to have had a story
Like those who seem to have it together
I on the other hand
Write strange poems
That end at 3.47 am.

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