(Image courtesy of Elinor Rowlands)
Will you hold me close
And whisper comfort in my ear?
I don’t want things to be difficult.
Simplicity sits somewhere in those arms I know
So will you draw me into them
Let me shelter there for a while
Sometimes it seems that when I open my mouth
All the worry stacked precariously in my brain tangles out through my tongue
And drops there in piles of words that don’t make any sense
Not in their delivery or timing
Only in their agitation and their ability to catalyse trouble
But digesting the trauma displayed senselessly before you
In these extravagant outbursts of self sabotage
How you sit there so sure and steady and set apart
Unpicking the reason behind these messy states
I worry that I will never know
How to be so measured and calm, unwavering or know
Your certainty that we are not perfect but that is okay
I don’t want things to be difficult
I’m just so used to struggling sometimes I force extra trouble upon myself
Habitually unravelling picking at threads that were neatly sewn
Just in case they come undone
Because at least then I am in control of when it happens
Ready or not, More often not.
And I wait for you to grow tired of it
The double-edged sword of it being early days
I tell myself to relax but I’m not sure I remember how
So for now I will keep breathing if I can
And convince myself to try and be quiet inside
To have confidence and patience because
Simplicity sits somewhere in those arms I know
So will you draw me into them
Let me shelter there for a while
And wait for worry to waste away
As I try to neglect it for a change so that my feet can keep moving me forward
Instead of rooting themselves in the problems of the past.