Measurements – R.W.

I can measure the state of my mental health
By the lines left in ny skin
Some scarlet and bumpy
Some pale and thin

I can measure my relationship with food
By the gap between the waistband
Of my jeans And the hips poking through
Like the knuckles in my hand

That Person – R.W.

I’m trying so hard
Not to be the person
Everyone insists I’m not
Defending me blindly
In error

I’m not all that
I’m not the person
I’m idolised to be
Pro me
Team me

I didn’t ask to be put
Up here on this pedestal
I don’t deserve

Words On Their Own – R.W.

There’s poems that sit
Alone in my notes
Their loneliness
A reminder that sometimes it’s okay
To not tell everyone everything
I can keep secrets of my own

Sat Alone
They tell a story
Of my darkest moments
The ones I’m not sure
Wether to share would be worse

When I’ve written for myself
Words on a page
To help my busy brain
Extract the feelings
Make sense of them

Doesn’t mean anyone else needs to see them
They are mine
And mine alone

Away Days – R.W.

Sat on my own in a spoons
A few years ago, I could think of nothing worse
A few months ago, I’d have been terrified of the idea
But faced with interacting with strangers
That aren’t even strange
People I know on the off hand
Not well enough to keep up
Not well enough to fill in
On the dramatic swings my life takes
At every given turn
I’d rather sit on my own
In a crowded bar
Alone with my own thoughts
Surrounded by strangers’ conversations to keep
My busy brain from running circles round itself

Where To Turn? – R.W.

I’m not sober but I’m awake so that’s a win.

I stopped having feelings or opinions a couple of weeks ago
Around the time when things got super weird. 
Out of control
Out of my control
Never thought I’d see the day
I stopped fighting
I stopped fighting for the guys.
I can’t even advocate for me right now let alone them.
How am I supposed to lead when I’m losing ?
Everything, every day

They ask me where I go when I don’t know the answers
To stuff knowing I don’t get on with the people I’m supposed to trust.
And I don’t have an answer because its technically them
They don’t want to go to them, and I’d normally just ask you.
You’re so far away
You’ve got your whole own life
And I’m just here
Not fighting anymore

Awareness Breeds Recovery – R.W.

‘I’m worried about my drinking’
It’s quite an honest conversation
Held in the calm of the office
Away from the chaos of the bar
‘Why’ ‘you’re doing okay’
That’s not how I feel
The pull of the numbing solution
To the way things have changed
Away from dealing with

Anything

Mine Not Yours – R.W.

Not all break ups are sad
Sometimes it’s healthy
When you’re together a long time
You are not the same person when we met
Neither am I

I chose to love you
And I chose to do that again each day
As our values slid
Out of line with one another

We didn’t fight
We just let it happen
Some people are meant forever
We were meant for while we needed one another
This isn’t goodbye
Only adjusting ourselves
To serve our own values
Better

To Have A Person – R.W.

If I wanted a person
Right now
To be responsible to
I’d have a partner
I wouldn’t have left
The relationship
That was no longer fulfilling my needs

If I wanted a person
To consider before
I make any decision for myself
I wouldn’t be living alone
In a space of my own
Where I can come and go as I please

If I wanted a person
To tell me I live life too intensely
Or change my plans
To adhere to their world view
I’d have a person

Alexa – R.W.

I’ve never seen a person threaten an Alexa before
Holding knife to it
Threatening it to continue
With the twinkle of Christmas music
In the first week of September
Starting to feel like autumn
Cookimg roast dinner in our sweats
Starting to feel like family
Drinking wine from mugs, as we catch up in one of our flats
Starting to feel like we belong
We’ve found our groove, the centre of our walkable lives
In this here there is love

Big Scary – R.W.

Writing for myself again
Became the big scary
Thinking about how everything that passed
Everything that made me stop
Stopped
Me from carrying on
From processing what was passing
Now I sit
Not quite stopped
Ticking by in minimal speed
Sorting through
Feelings and experience
Writing the ones I can fathom
Shelving the more complex
For when I am ready