the heart laid bare

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push
a strange distance
SWIMMING ALWAYS DOWNWARD
A ONCE-FAMILIAR LANDSCAPE
No Apology
the thunder
tinder
VERBAL PORTRAIT OF A CAT OWNER
critical shortage
the sky we thought we knew
CIRCA SOLEM
almanac
baby
dearest orlando
FIVE MONTHS
A LETTER TO THE UNDESERVING
cactus heart
would we
the fall of giants
paradise lost
Dad
after you've gone
time
a smile from the eyes
trepidation
why so cold
fix this
swallow me
untitled 8
insular
cry alone
robin
quicksand
laces
D.I.S.C.
stripped
waving goodbye
your open eyes
enemy within
mortal
untitled 4
sleepless
OUTSIDER
untitled 9
come dream with me
in the face of adversity
one word
the dark of the night
untouchable
one and one makes two
you burn me
see me
this shaken core
my lover
helen
my room
his words
foolish
rita
chalk drawings
the longest night
stupid skeleton
CLOTHES MAKETH
FIRST LASTS
STELLAR
TODAY
I WATCHED A MAN DIE TODAY
THREE WEEKS
this slippery slope
untitled 5
Arrows
First Kiss
The Talk Of Love
Nicotine
Blackout

FIVE MONTHS

Please don’t forget me just because it’s been
A few months or so
Since my world turned upside down.
In universal terms
Hardly a moment has gone by
And I’m still spinning
With eyes wide and arms outstretched,
Waiting to fall.
 
Please don’t think that I should be over this by now,
Just because you can leave the past in your past.
Because I am caught in that moment,
Frozen where the wave is crashing,
Every time I close my eyes.
 
Please don’t ignore me,
I know that I am difficult for you.
I’m difficult for me too.
I’ve never done this before.
I don’t know any other way to be.
 
And please don’t think that I’m ok,
Because I’m walking around
And going to work,
And feeding my cats,
And sometimes laughing.
 
Life goes on even when you’re not ready for it to,
And I do what I have to do
Because I didn’t die with him.
I see it in my sleep,
And all I can do is go on living,
And tell his stories,
And hope that one day this will be enough.
 

© mjc 05 April 2016

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Biography

Daughter, sister, aunt, godmother, friend, public servant; self-confessed hermit, confirmed cat person, sporadic baker, irreformable yarncrafter, voracious reader; occasional wit, voluble shower vocalist, frequent sacrifice on the altar of brain-to-mouth filter fails, random shit-slinger, unrepentant purveyor of puns and dad jokes, writer and poet.

I have always lived by the theory that no matter what you do for a living - if you are compelled to write, if you wake up in the night to scrawl the contents of your dreams on a notebook beside the bed, if no event in your life seems complete without you recording it, if you are drawn to comment upon the world - then you are a writer.

These are my words.