And She is Rolling

She is rolling down a hill and it’s
got a steep decline. She feels
totally lost she can’t find her
toothbrush or a comb
amongst the life stuff.
You know the score surely
when everything is just
way too much ……………...
The dishes lay in the sink and
the carpet misses the hoover.
She feels infiltrated with complete
sadness and add in shame
and guilt and disgust. This isn’t
her and it makes her feel a failure.

And she is rolling.

She can't see the bottom from
the top she’s feels tits up.
She can’t find her mobile
phone to call a friend although
if you knew her, she does
everything on her own.
A permanent fixture that
lack of trust a by product
of trusting to much but she
can’t seem to tidy up her stuff and
compartmentalise those feelings.

And she is rolling.

Although she has always been a
control freak all her life ten steps
ahead anticipating and preparing
it’s tiring. She can’t find the brush
and broom and a bucket of bleach
to clean her own mess up you
have to take responsibility Deep
down she is choking on lack of hope
 it’s sliding down her throat and she
wants to cry but she won’t. She is not
that kind to put her mind and heart
on the line or on display to be
perceived as weak or a freak. She
can’t even speak and for her she
normally can talk you to sleep
with her ten thousand words a day.


And she is rolling.

She is going to hit a tree eventually.
What that will be will ultimately be
defined by her. Will she take what
she desperately needs. Unconditional
love and support to build her
back up. Will she allow trust to take
her hand. Will she ever feel good
enough again. Sometimes you do
need people she prefers cats but can
she see beyond her preconceived
perception of the humankind. Will
she truly believe. Will she pick an apple
and eat it and remember the taste
and flavour a mix between golden delicious
and pink lady. Only she can decide.

And she is rolling.