Another Day

(Image source – Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash)

The day will put down roots on my shoulders tonight

These past vacant hours disappeared

Into dense, heavy clouds above me

Exhaustion sets in, and my muscles are taught

Like the strings of an old, dusty Stradivarius

Playing a lullaby to aid my slumber

~~~

I am sore and weary through lack of rest and repose

Seconds blended into minutes, into days, into weeks

Time evaporating my ongoing sense of self

Another day I have to pull myself up by my bootlaces

And face the world and the human race and smile

When under my skin, tears of pain and sorrow overwhelm me

~~~

Why another day when I have had so many already

packed tightly together, melting into months and seasons

I long for the navy sky, littered with bright stars

The darkness was once my friend; now sleep evades me

I need sweet dreams. I have only nightmares

But I have made it through this day against all odds

~~~

So, how do I get through yet another day

When sometimes, I hardly know myself at all

Yet sometimes, I know myself too much, and it hurts

And my ideas and thoughts sit heavy on my mind

It has been this way for far too long

I will search out escape routes to get some relief.

37 thoughts on “Another Day

  1. Ellie, your pain and trauma produce the most haunting yet beautiful poetry. I wish I could send the peace you crave and the healing you seek. Thoughts of kindness float across the Atlantic.
    Take care.

    1. Thank you so much for such a kind comment, Kathryn. I value your wishes for peace and healing for me very much. Things are still difficult for me, but I like to think I am making some slow progress – it’s just taking its time. Take care also. Xx ๐ŸŒท

  2. Your escape route is within you, waiting for you to open the right door. Though there be many doors, choose the one on the right. It awaits your warm gentle hand on its handle. (Please forgive me, the word is taut.)

    1. Thank you so much for your kind and intuitive comment, J. There are so many doors to choose from, you are right, but why do you say choose the one on the right (unless it’s meant as the ‘correct’ door – I’m intrigued?). I hope you are okay? Take care. X ๐Ÿ’œ

      1. Yes it is a play on words,, but it is also a mental technique. When you are faced with multiple doors that might lead somewhere, but you have no idea if they are good or bad, ask your mind to rearrange them from worst on the left to best on the right. Then whatever door you see farthest to the right, open that one, believing it will be the one to help you the most.
        Yes, it requires a mind trick, but trust in the process as best you can. Your mind knows things you might not always be able to access under normal circumstances. It’s all up to you.

      2. Thanks for the additional information, J. That’s very interesting. I’ve not heard of this technique before and will certainly give it a try. I think the subconscious mind is capable of doing or knowing more than we give it credit for. I’ll let you know how I find it when I have been able to put it into practice. Thanks again x

  3. This reminds me of the Nietzsche quote: “no artist tolerates reality” or the more likely original statement “Truth is ugly: We have art so that we do not perish from the truth.”. Thank you for sharing your art with us, Ellie.

    1. Thank you very much, Selma. Your kind thoughts are so much appreciated. Life is a bit tough at the moment, but I hope not to be stuck in this place forever. I’m getting support from a counsellor, although they say that sometimes things have to get worse before they can get better. I will keep pushing on. Love to you, my friend Xx ๐Ÿ’•๐Ÿ˜˜

    1. Thank you so much for your kind words, Brian. I love that quote and will try to remember that when I’m struggling with my thoughts and feelings. Thank you very much for the peace and healing you sent me – I appreciate that a lot. Best wishes to you, also.

      1. It’s become much less frequent over the past couple of years. As I truly ‘got to know myself’ through writing, I REALLY didn’t like who I found. Came to peace with some of it and changed much of the rest. I’m young (haha), not too late to reinvent myself.

  4. Beautifully written. It has that almost suffocating feel to it, the despair and sense of exhaustion, the need for sleep and brightness in your life, for less nightmares and disturbance. You deserve the sweetest of dreams my friend. You’re a good soul. And a fabulous writer! xx

    1. Thank you for your kind words, Caz, and for your understanding of my poem. You have it spot on, and I appreciate that very much. I would lovely to have sweet dreams (such a lovely thing to say to me). I can, but hope right now. Thank you, also, for appreciating my writing. It means an awful lot to me, especially as I was so full of doubts about whether I should publish this one yesterday. Your reassurance means a lot. Love to you, my friend Xxx ๐ŸŒท๐Ÿ’•

  5. Another beautiful poem. Perhaps instead of escape routes, you can find little nooks and crannies of peace to hide in when the darkness comes to dance over you. You might not be able to escape, but perhaps you can ride it out while looking at the light you know will be there again.

    1. Thank you so much, Bridgette. I like those ideas. I think I know that the light will appear again, although, right now, it does seem difficult to grasp. Yesterday, I bought myself a small, furry, cuddly lioness toy. It may sound very juvenile, but holding it brings me some comfort when I’m in that dark place. I am considering writing a post looking at my future possibilities, probably not poetry (I’m not sure yet). I will have to be in the right place to do this, and I’m hoping I can do this before too long. Thank you so much for your always kind encouragement. It’s so much appreciated. Love to you, Bridgette. Xx ๐Ÿ’›

  6. Time is a rope you cling to, can let go of too. It burns your palms as it slips away. It teases you with another day. It is indifferent to all, it cares not if you rise or fall. I don’t think of it as pleasure or pain, I think of time as something I live in. I don’t judge those who give in, but I still would be suggesting, that if I had embraced the abysses way back then, this beautiful dark poem, your labor’s written, today I would not be reading. I often feel sorry for Plath, mental illness of her did grasp, I have been on that same path, but all the weights and ropes and chains and bamboo shives under my fingernails, it all pales to me, if I had never read her dreams and nightmares, as the same I read such similar nakedness here. I wish I could have stopped her and told her I need her, she is gone, and she will never know how many she has inspired. Yes I deal with many of the same horrors and anxiety that would make Everest seem smaller than an electron, but once you are gone, and the deed is done, your pen dies with you. I have no kids, no one to carry my name, but I still want to live, my poetry my baby, and that I live for, that I would crawl over hot coals and shards of glass, to write some more, to my last breath.

    1. I’m so sorry you can identify so much with my writing, Brian. I do understand, however, that it helps to make this type of connection with another person. I know, for myself, I feel heard and understood when someone writes of their truth. I’ve never considered that if we die, our pen dies with us. I haven’t read much about Plath, but I’ve just Googled her name and intend to read more about her. I’m sorry you have the pain of not having anyone to carry your name into the future, but your words will live on long after you (and I) have gone from this planet. Thank you for such kind words about my writing. I find pouring my heart and soul out to be cathartic and I’m honoured that you feel the same way. I’m very much looking forward to connecting with you over some more of your heartfelt poetry. Take care, Brian. I’m always here if you want to chat. You can reach me on my ‘Contact Me’ page. X ๐Ÿค

  7. Sharing your pain is not just cathartic to you, it should be and it can be and it is, at least for me I know. But others read your words, they read mine, they see our pain, and they identify with it because they have had pain in their lives, so you help them, they see you and they know they are not alone.

    1. Thank you for your understanding comment, Brian. I agree with you, as I replied to your above comment. So many people have pain in their lives, but none of us knows that unless we share our hearts and truths with others. It’s one of the reasons that I write so honestly; it’s cathartic for me, and I hope I can help others to relate if they’ve been through something similar. I know I feel less alone when I’ve read another writer’s work. Connecting with others is very important to me. I often feel so alone and hate to think of others as feeling the same sense of isolation. If it weren’t for my writing ability, my world would be lost and an even darker place. Thanks for understanding so well, Brian. Please, feel free to reach out to me if it would help (via my ‘contact me’ form at the top of my blog.) X ๐Ÿ’œ

      1. You’re doing great, it may not feel that way sometimes, but you are. But as far as giving out personal info, I take my time on that with everyone. My best friend of 20 years John, it took him 3 years just to give me his phone number. Lets just keep this on our blogs for now.

      2. Thank you, Brian. I understand totally about not getting in touch. I respect that, too. I was just aware that you’d lost your mum and your friend and didn’t want you to feel alone. Hopefully, you have other support networks or at least a couple of good friends in your life. Take care x

      3. I am ok right now. In fact I am having tons of fun with my best friend John. He is your typical “redneck” who says “tators” instead of “potato” and he LOVES country music and banjo music and he knows I am not fond of either at all. So he LOVES to find connections with things I like and actors or singers or anything in life and connect it to country or banjo.

        He pointed out to me that the ladies of ABBA were in a band called “The Hootenannies” before ABBA. He found Metallica on banjo on Youtube. HE FOUND A BANJO PLAYER READING PLATH! He ruined Farah Fawcett and reporter Alex Wagner for me by linking them to things country. He loves teasing me about that.

        But yea, I still have my downs, my moments, but for right now, doing good. Keep writing, I love your work.

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