Friday, 30 October 2009


I miss the days of
flashes of white teeth.
Of red lips like cherries -
inferring nothing.
Meaningless brushes of skin.

I miss getting goosebumps over the idea
of first snow...
Not being judged for letting the wind
blow my mind away.

I miss dancing
and not caring about the eyes
set upon my twirling form.
Twirling with the leaves of autumn;
the rays of summer;
the skips of spring, the steam of winter.

I miss how things were,
before I realised the truth that stole the magic.
Smuggled it away like the ticking
of the clock. Fused and ready.

I miss being enough;
don't you?


  1. gorgeous writing...ironic too as I was just discussing this with a friend last night, about how as children we were so fearless, and welcome to be our unique selves compared to how often in the adult world we are encouraged to keep that to ourselves. But the true people in our lives bring that sense of 'being enough' out, or at least remind us that, to them, we are enough. Now if we can only believe it ourselves...

  2. I love the things that you write. They always speak so deeply to me.
    Have a Great Weekend!