Night Wanderer.

I have discovered that perhaps I take some things for granted.

Lying here for the first time in a while I feel a little lighter,

The edges that were once so harsh have began to soften,

And the place where your hand once lay in mine feels a little less empty.


For tonight I have found myself staring at the night sky,

Removing any barrier between me and the fresh air it brings,

Finally feeling as though I belong,

A storm no longer moving so quickly,

Instead slowing down,

Allowing me to reminisce in the beauty.


To be one with the night sky is such a small but oh so fulfilling feeling,

Have you ever felt it?

As though the darkness is soothing every part of you that has ever been broken,

Holding my heart so gently,

I feel nothing but peace.


Night times were once a place where I lost all control,

Where you are left with nothing but your own thoughts,

And those thoughts were the ones that destroyed you,

At least they would try to.


Yet on a night like tonight I want nothing more than to be consumed by the night sky,

To feel peace in knowing our loved ones are never far away,

Wanting to dive right in and explore the beauty,

Swimming in oceans of delicate clouds and picking up shooting stars on my travels,

I have learnt to slowly open my heart to its beauty.


I could spend the rest of my live as one of them,

A night wanderer,

Seeking nothing but brightness within the night skies.



Make A Wish.

“Make A Wish” you whisper,

Words I still hear so clearly,

Turning to face the clock,


So I do as you ask,

I make a wish.


“Make A Wish” you whisper,

It was my birthday after all,

Candle by candle

Light by light,

Slowly fading away,

With one left,

I do as you ask,

I make a wish.


“Make A Wish” you whisper,

Lights flickering across the night sky,

I’d never seen a shooting star before,

So I do as you ask,

I make a wish.


10 months later,

Your voice now nothing but a memory,

11:11 comes and goes,

Another birthday passed,

Witnessing shooting star after shooting star.


“Make A Wish” I whisper,

Each word tearing me apart,

Knowing my wish was impossible,

As I wished for you to stay,

Just as I always did.

Yet this time,

This time was different,

This time it was too late,

This time,

You were already gone.


10th July 2016 – The day your body gave up.


I don’t like talking about.

I never talk about.

I have tried to avoid it as much as possible.

Yet I can’t stop thinking about it.

Day 3 in hospital, lying there in a coma, my mother, a beautiful women, a courageous women, a women who fought the most incredible battle. Each night I would stay till midnight, go home and sleep, then return early the next morning.

Yet this night was different, I felt almost compelled to stay, so I did, along with two of my cousins. We sat there telling stories, holding her hand, reminiscing of all the incredible memories we had experienced together.

Holding her cold lifeless hand, tears began streaming down my face as the light inside slowly dimmed, I kept wishing for her to wake up. We all did. She always came round, she was a fighter, and she was a survivor.

That night,

Her breathing grew shallower,

The room shuddering with silence,

Not a word was said,

This crippling silence was enough,

We all knew.

Grabbing her hand tighter and whispering in her ear, trying to fight back tears I told her how much I loved her, how much I will always need her and how much I was going to miss her.

Inhale, Exhale, Inhale.

Watching a body filled with so much life slowly drift away,

Within minutes she was gone,

A life snatched away within seconds.

(2:40am~ our time of death.)


No More Easter Egg Hunts.


Easter, a holiday my family always treasured. My mother going to extremes in order to make us happy every year and no matter how old we became, we still got excited.

The routine went as such ~

We woke up in the morning to a soft toy and a chocolate by our beds; the first toy I ever got became my best friend for the next 10 years till he began falling apart. I cherished every toy she left on that bed, and as she became sick the toys began bringing something with them, almost some form of hope. If we could make it to one Easter, we could sure as hell make it to the next and that was worth celebrating.

The celebration would continue with breakfast, homemade pancakes, bacon eggs, everything you could possibly want and more. A spread fit for three queens I thought. This tradition slowly changed as mum became sicker, I began taking over, and she would lie in bed that little bit longer, still recovering from her previous chemotherapy. So I would wake up early, cook breakfast as best I could and bring it to her in bed, where we would all share in each other’s company, all happy we had made it to another Easter.

After breakfast, we invited the whole family round and Mum would run her world famous ‘Easter egg hunt.’ A tradition I begged her to keep every year, almost becoming more excited, as I got older. What I loved most was seeing the joy in her eyes when we started running round the house finding them, while at the same time what was brining me joy was the fact she was happy. We were almost doing it for each other. Who knew something so trivial could give us such hope.

Following the famous hunt we all sat down to dinner, another feast for all the familiar faces we brought into our house. Everyone happy to be together. Everyone just excited about making another Easter.

So there you have it, a world famous day for our family, one I loved celebrating, even if our reasons were slightly different to others. Easter is coming around again, only a few days away, and this Easter I feel myself almost lost. Scrambling with ideas, trying to piece small bits together, so I could attempt to continue the tradition, or at least some of it, as Mum would have wanted.

But this Easter is not the same, for we will no longer be celebrating, as Mum didn’t make it to this Easter. We had no idea at the time, but last Easter would be her last, it would be the end of all our traditions, no more toys at the end of the bed, no more breakfast fit for queens, no more family dinners, no more feelings of joy, and…

…No more Easter egg hunts.


Searching For Yourself.


Starke realities,

Hidden behind glass,

Searching for yourself.

Why don’t you stay a little longer?

Bigger spaces,

Smaller outlines,

Searching for yourself.

Look deeper,

Depth is key,

Fragile and broken beneath the surface,

Searching for yourself.

Time ticking,

A person slowly fading,

Eyes red,


Body numb,

Searching for yourself.

Walk away,

This person can’t be you,

Already gone inside,

Barely surviving,

A face so broken,

Searching for yourself.

Moving side to side,

The image moving with you,


Stop searching,

That person is you.

(It’s a mirror after all).



Have you ever had a dream so vivid, you had to take a minute and second-guess the difference between reality and fantasy?

I’m talking about those dreams that feel so spine-tingling real; you need to catch yourself before you start to believe it.

I find myself having more and more of these dreams, where the lines between what’s real and what isn’t begin to fade more and more. The deeper I dive, the more alive I begin to feel and the happier I become. Almost as if a dream is a way of escaping reality, an ‘out’ you could say, something to make life that little bit more bearable.

The other day, I dreamt of my Mum in the most vivid way. I felt the emotions right down to my bones. Shivering as her hand touched mine, I could feel myself go numb at the thought of her being by my side again.Her smile was contagious, and I found myself grinning beyond belief, only this time it wasn’t fake. Happiness seemed to grow within me and a light I hadn’t seen for a long time started to reignite.

“Alive” – the only way I could describe such a feeling.

Not once did I second guess if it was real or not, every aching part of me felt as though I was home, as if I had lived there my whole life. Reality struck not long after. I could feel my rib cage rise and fall, as my breaths got shallower, my body aching at the thought of waking up.

All of a sudden I was back and with it came this darkness I thought I had left behind. With it came every emotion and more. Tears streaming down my face, I couldn’t begin to describe how heavy I felt in that moment.

All I wanted was to drift back to sleep, to go back into a world where she was still there. Lying in my bed, aching, sobbing, drowning, the light slowly burning away as darkness filled my thoughts.

This is reality, I could tell, because dreams fill me with the brightest of lights, snatched away by realities darkness.

“Take me back,” I screamed.


What did I expect?

After all, it was just a dream.


Unstable – losing all I had left.

I used to feel so secure in my own skin, in my own home, with my own family. Now all I feel is this raging instability, this insecurity trying to consume me. I feel as though at any moment, my entire life could fall from beneath me.

In fact, I think it just did.

Everything is different now that you’re gone, and everyone is trying their dammed hardest, but sometimes even our best just isn’t good enough.

Do you know what it feels like to no longer feel secure? Or safe? Or protected.

I haven’t felt that sense of security in months, in all honesty, I don’t know if I ever felt it.

Dad left home when we were only kids, leaving my Mum to fight her own battle with cancer while dealing with my older sister (whom has severe learning problems) and myself, just some useless 11-year-old girl.

Gone, without a trace, with no explanation, he just up and left, as if we meant nothing to him.

From that day onwards I began being scared of the dark, I started noticing things I had never seen before, I started creating these monsters in my mind. Everyone leaves I thought, don’t get too close because chances are, they wont stay too long.

Then there was Mum, who made my mind grow, who tried to support me and protect me as much as a dying woman could. She tried her best, and that meant the world to me, even if I still felt ripped at the seams.

I started believing people could stay, my trust started to blossom, everything started making sense. Not everyone leaves I thought. Some of us, the lucky ones, get someone in their life who is willing to stay, willing to fight for you, willing to provide you with a sense of security, you never even thought could exist. That person to me was my Mum; I don’t know how she did it. But with time, we both grew together, we both felt safe knowing we had each other, we both finally felt secure.

And then she left,

Taking my security, my sense of belonging, my stability with her,

She left almost like he did,

So rapidly and with no warning,

Once again removing the floor from underneath me,

Falling, deeper and deeper,

Making me feel more insecure and unsafe than before,

Flashbacks of the 11-year-old me ran through my mind,

Only this time I didn’t have a back up,

Both parents now gone,

The only difference,

He had a choice,

(You were never that lucky.)