The first few years of motherhood were difficult. I was diagnosed with a somatic presentation of complex post-traumatic stress disorder. This left me with chronic pain, compromised immune and an inability to walk or sit for long periods of time.
I retreated for a while, art was sporadic, sometimes things came out as words…
Faces pressed in misty glass,
Roy’s tears in rain,
things that can’t
always find somewhere to be…
over the rainbow in that town of gold
never said, shouldn’t, can’t,
fly loopy loo to shang-rih-lah
whispering their wishing to no-one, everywhere
Pushed-shh, inside-out with shame
Lying that it didn’t matter, they
were named wrong, turned over and forgotten.
Squealing sheets over my-eyes – blighted blot!
My scratching back leg buries
shimmering alternative unknowns
I will no longer destroy what protects me.
star to earth birthed.
Reaching into the darkness
the context gone.
Fragments of feel finally felt
Glittered savage waters come:
Empty heads waggle their dust tongues.
But this is here,
and I am now.