Second countdown

Time merging into

Past and present

Present and past

Future and present

Present and future

 

Twenty-three months of

needless pain

pain and more needless pain;

feeling empty

lonely

sad

lost

uncertain

frightened

confused

 

What is my role?

a mum? gone

into the sinking sands.

Feeling like a nobody.

 

The storms of life

CRASHING AGAINST

Cliffs hard scratchy surfaces

Gone my son is: with the sands

Left i am

to pick up the

shreds of a broken life

of my broken soul

 

One month to go

and another year has turned

into  a year of nothingness

but battling the feelings

of inadequacy

of being a failed mum

 

my life

gone to shreds

hope left

hope comes back

but in flickers

as the wind

blows my hair askew

and endless carpets

of tears roll

into the gray skies

 

life has become an

endless circle of grief

as i battle the tears

that threaten to erupt

like a volcano

of deep hues of blue