Three Leaf Clovers

Watching the seconds pass by.




Tick. Tick. Tick.



Listening to the rainfall.



Drip. Drip. Drip.



I love how the sounds play inside my mind


as if they're a soft melody, a sad song.



& the tune keeps repeating,


over and over again.






I lie awake






drawing your name on the ceiling,


using nothing more than the tip of my finger


and imaginary ink.


I move it in every direction


painting countless pictures,


images only I can see.






My world feels so cold, so empty,


I miss your warm cuddles, your giggle.






I just can't stop whispering,


can't stop talking to myself.


"Let me go, I beg you let me be."






Hundreds of thoughts rush through my mind,


endless rivers that’s what they feel like.


Memories, so many memories,






like a picture album with so many photos.






I feel so alone,


Like a ghost,


do I even exist to you?

Up where you are...






I toss and turn from side to side,


trying to get rid of the thoughts,


trying to get rid of what


once was.






Again,






I say,


let me go, I beg you let me be.


I just want to run in the fields,


swim in the sea,


float with the clouds.


But my legs are so tired,


and my lungs are exhausted just trying to breathe.


My arms are way too short to grab a hold of the sky






and pull myself away.






I say it one more time,


let me go, I beg you let me be.


And I could repeat this line a million times.


I'd still miss you though,


like a withered flower misses the rain.


I yearn to touch you,


like the moon wishes to touch the earth,


but it isn't gravity that attracts me to you,


it's something more powerful,


this invisible cord that ties you to me....

a mother to her child



feels like I'm watching you from a distance






I'm blinded by my dreams,


forsaken to see a reality that never existed.






This cell isn't my home and looking out the window just isn't the same.


& your laughter and "mummy" continue to echo throughout the empty halls.




We live our life in patterns,


moving from one tragedy to the next.







It's as if you're


reading the same story


over and over,


yet the ending never changes.


Even if you tore the book apart


word for word, page by page.







Only, if only I could turn back time,






let me turn this hour-glass upside down.






B e c a u s e   r e g r e t






is taking over


my mind, my soul, and my heart.

Who? What? Where? Why?

Who are you?

 Me? Little old me? Why... I'm Lauren... And, what does that mean? Oh, well let me attempt to tell you... That means a writer... a lover... a hopeless romantic, a poetic soul, a sister, a daughter, a mother, a mentor, a lover, a fighter, a thinker, a doer. Lazy, active, creative, mundane..…a beacon of truth, a storyteller, a singer. Depends on the day of the week!

I could tell you I'm nothing, I could tell you I'm everything. I could tell you, to some, I am the sun, the moon and the stars... To some, I never have, and never will exist. I could tell you I'm ok with that.

I could tell you that I'm someone who's a lover, not a fighter... But some days, that's not true. Some days, I just wanna start a fight, throw some punches.

I could tell you that I'm a girl who loves the aesthetics, the beauty of things... But that's not true, some days I just hate everything, think it’s all a waste.
 I could tell you that I'm someone who's an awesome writer... According to everyone else... But is that really the case? I suppose that's up to the rest of you.

I could tell you I'm a woman... But in so many ways, I'm only a child.

There are many, many, many things I could tell you... But that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

The only true thing I could tell you, in all truthfulness, is that I'm someone who cares. Sometimes, too much, sometimes, too little, but always, somewhat, somewhere, I will always care.

I'm not really sure who I am to be honest... I can tell you about myself, but who I am??? That's a complex question... After all, I am but a figure of my own imaginings, a built up character, composed of such simplistic things such as my past, a due sum of my wants, my hopes, my fears, my intangible memories of a wantonly forgotten past.

I can tell you what I want. I can tell you why I'm here; I can tell you where I’m going...I can tell you whom I trust... But I can't tell you who I am, for I know not even myself. You'd do better to ask that of one of my friends, or perhaps, of a lover... Or all of them perhaps, because, as we all know, we all see the world differently.

What do you want?

Ooh. Tough one. So many choices. What DO I want...? Suppose I could pen out a few things here...

I want to be happy. I want to walk down the streets and look up at the stars and know my place among them, to feel them smile down at me.

I want to love, and to be loved, I want to share my heart, my mind, my hopes, my fears. I want to be laid bare to the world, while still hiding from myself.

I want to be understood. I want to reach down and slip my hand into that of my lover's, everyday. I want to feel the wind in my hair, as I cruise down a mountainside on a bike. I want to hike those mountains, and bask under the star's light while stretching forth a hand to feel them wrap about my fingers. I wish to watch the sun set over as many rivers and oceans as I can, and I want to swim in the sea under the stars.

I want to touch the stars one day, I want to see life in other worlds, I want to behold another world's sunset with my own eyes.

I want to write, I want to dance, I want to sing. I want to look the world in the eyes, and see respect.

I want to be a good mother, a good sister, a good daughter. I want my family to point at me and say, of her, we are proud. That's our girl. That's my sister. That's my mother. She’s my friend.

I want to love, I want to serve, I want to care, I want to grow myself in ways never done before... I want to take a look at myself in the mirror and wave hello to the friend I see in it.

I want to make love; I want to make war... I want to taste humble defeat, and sweet victory. I want to taste both at once, to swish the bittersweet flavour of dying as I fall victorious, through my bloodstained teeth.

I want to be a shining beacon to those who are lost, an eternal friend to those who find themselves without. I want to crawl out of bed at four am to a dear friend crying, to show them that someone cares.

I want to make the world a better place, and not by going out and saving the planet... But by saving the people in it.

Why are you here?

I'm here to do all I can. To touch a life here, or to save a life there. I am here to be myself, to do everything right... While still messing up.

I'm here to prove to others that a humble, pain filled past is not a death sentence. I am here to prove to the world that we can rise above who it says we are, and be who we think we are, who we are in our soul, who destiny has shown us in our dreams.

I am here to show everyone the potential that we all have that resides within us. I am here to show us all that, we all can be whoever we like.
 I am here to write, and I am here to sing... I am here to hold out my hand to those who have fallen. I am here to fall, I am here to rise. I am here to help and to be helped.
 I am here to be a friend. I am here to be me.

Where are you going?

I am going... Places. I am going forth, I am going back... I am going to change things, I am going to put things right. I am going to fix things, and sometimes, I am going to break them.

Sometimes, I feel stuck in the mud, Sometimes I get sucked down... Doesn't mean I'm failing, just going in a different direction.

I am going to keep an eternal hand stretched into the darkness, waiting for someone to reach for it, and whilst I pull them out with the one hand, I shall put forth the other, constantly waiting for another fallen soul to cry for help. I shall follow friends into that darkness, the darkness from whence I have come, and show them the way out, to save them from the same sort of pain which I carry.

I am going to be great, I am going to be weak... I am going to make someone proud, I am going to make someone hurt... I am going wherever life sees fit to take me, making some changes of my own along the way.

Who do you trust?

Who do I trust? Well first off, the last person I trust is myself, flawed as I am...

I trust in Love. I trust in my lover, I trust in my friends. I trust in the good will of this world, I trust in the goodness of the heart... I trust in the fact that people are inherently good, and I trust that I have a purpose... As do we all.

I trust that I am... Who I am.

I am

I am...
A woman
with a full heart, hidden
Somewhere in an empty room...
with eyes not quite of autumn's gold, and yet
Neither all of summer's green.

I wonder...
If love is a tale made for children -
A granting of sweet dreams in their innocence -
A honey-coating to help their throats
choke down the bitter draught...

I hear...
A voice that whispers warnings, half-formed,
Bodiless as hope, until I swear I cannot draw
another breath unless this spectre be unmasked,
His lies mangled beneath my righteous tread...

I see...
A woman, proud, uncompromising,
Diaphanous as air - less, even, than the tears
that fall in desolation about her weary feet,
Salt poison pooled upon the withered ground...

I want...
A measure of quietude, a certain silence,
The echo of alone which heals me of dreaming,
The nothing that stills the wanting,
The numb, the cold that laughs at pain..
I am
a woman,
hidden...

I pretend...
That I can live forever - that time
has no puissance but that which I afford him -
and so, I can wait, I can be happy tomorrow,
Sleep is for the dead; but its ghosts haunt my waking...

I feel...
Too much - too deeply to be directionless,
Too real for imagining, and yet the familiar eyes
hold nothing of recognition - only my reflection -
a meeting of shadows in sunlit grass...

I touch...
The downy wings of hope, in wonder,
In reverence, in need, in hunger,
Alas, it burns my fingers as a flame,
A sacrilege, self defined...

I worry...
That I am alone, that in my longing,
I have forsaken all - but oh, what reward,
What smile devine should light the path to freedom -
And how can I but heed the siren's call?

I cry...
For having too much for fear of bursting,
and then, when by the pouring of my soul,
I lie, a vessel emptied, I cry again
For what was had, and lost;
I am
A woman
empty...

I understand...
That life is what you make it,
that sometimes, the coat of many colours
that marks your triumphs brightly, blends only
to loneliest of grey...

I say...
That we are made by life, shaped,
Broken perhaps - unmade and voided -
But always, the core of us remains, waiting
with only faith, with trust, to be reborn...

I dream...
Of bluest waters, reaching
with unnatural hands toward the faded sky,
Of dolphins that wander in seas without limits,
Carrying me water-breathing past corals and clouds...

I try...
To lead by example, knowing
That merely the telling holds no power;
A gift of giving is merely a day, while
A gift of knowing spans forever...

I hope...
That my darkness holds you gently,
That pain is halved by sharing, that feeling
wields nothing past the words it summons,
except that it touch you with only healing...
I am
A woman
Only.

Time Stood Still

Life is a tree, enduring harsh winters and blistering summers. For some time , I have not heard the chirping of birds or smelled the new growth as spring approached. Before you, I was enclosed in a dark stage of my life. My growth stopped, and my leaves turned brown as I wilted. But then, a day I will always remember came; a day when you entered my life. Once again, my flowers began to bloom and my leaves were no longer a dull brown, but an alive and fresh green. Hearing the sweet songs of the birds, and feeling the warm summer air brush my face, always brought a smile to my lips.

Many did not realise I was in this dark stage, for I hid my emotions, like a tree. I remained silent. Now, I listen to your tender voice...so warm...so comforting...just like the whispering wind as it blows across the land. It clears my head of troubles. I can feel your warmth as you hold me in your arms, like the sun beating down upon a tree. I stretched out my branches, welcoming the nourishing sun and let it penetrate deep into my soul; deep into my heart.

As I day dream of you now, I marvel at how amazing things are between us. Such a small change hoisted me out of my misery and redirected me to the sunny shores. In the depths of my heart, I know that the sun will not eternally burn and we may not also. When I think of myself going back into darkness, chills are sent throughout my soul. I feel a cold presence without pity or mercy. I've thought of it a lot, trying to find a way to fix the impending fate. As the time draws near, my hope falters, knowing the inevitable. Still, every day you look at me, and every day you fill me with contentment. Your confidence, and how you say that we will make it work, makes me realise that we all have a given amount of time and how we spend it is up to us. I can foresee that when I finally come to my senses, the time will be up.

Going against all logic and reasoning, the best idea is to just live life now and not think about the future. Every day is a gift of life and we all must spend it wisely. As for me, I feel I have made the right decision; to spend my time with a man who makes time stop for me...a man named Paul.

I love you...

I Believe

I believe in long, drenching downpours of rain that soak you through to the bone, leaving you in a shivering bout of ecstasy as you rush inside. I believe that dogs truly are a man’s (or a woman’s) best friend, that nature has its own song, that we’re all one candle short of candelabra.

I believe that poetry is the greatest form of writing and shouldn’t be taken for granted because of its ubiquity. I believe it isn’t fair for children to be smarter than their parents, that you shouldn’t be shunned for what you fear, just understood, that all animals talk in their own special ways, that we, alone, can never achieve world peace.

I believe the end of the world is nigh, that there’s a chance we’re “not alone”, that there’s something to laugh about in everything. I believe that laughter is the best medicine. I believe in love at second sight, and third, and fourth. I believe in second chances. I believe that we choose our own soul mates, that we’re not predestined, that there’s something to love in everyone.

I believe that the Bible is for the Christian as the thesaurus is for the Writer. I believe that school should focus more on the arts instead of sports. I believe we should have Sustained Silent Reading in every class, that spiders are nuisances.

I believe that, though disastrous, cyclones truly are a blessing for they bring everyone together to care for the injured and fix the destruction it left behind. I believe that tornadoes are beautiful and fascinating. I believe that darkness is the cover of iniquity. I believe that no one deserves to be alone.

I believe in being afraid of the dark. I believe that monsters do exist. I believe everyone should experience love. I believe that everyone falls in love at least once in their lifetime.

I believe in sipping soothing, hot, sugary cocoa on a cold winter’s day. I believe in building snowmen out of dirt and still calling it a snowman. I believe that the mind is a precious thing and that too many people take it for granted. I believe that talents should be expressed, not suppressed.

I believe most of us hide our insecurities in laughter. I believe those of us who seem nonchalant are suppressing a hurt that can never be cured. I believe that the rain is the best form of a shower, that thunder and lightning aren’t seen for their pulchritude, but for their ability to frighten.

I believe in staring up at the night sky. I believe in requited love. I believe that a picture tells a million words. I believe in being intimidated, in falling in love at no sight. I believe in being yourself regardless of what others think. I believe in swimming against the current, in walking up the down escalator, in overanalyzing everything.

I believe in trying to find a place in life. I believe in crying over nothing, in laughing when you’re sad. I believe in thinking about nothing in particular, in daydreaming at work. I believe smiles are well spent and well given. I believe that my dog smiles at me when I pet her, and loves me unconditionally. I believe animals sense the truth in everyone. I believe that my dog listens to me when I talk to her and tells me her opinion in her own way.

I believe that parents would understand if they knew how. I believe in running through the grass barefoot on a summer day as the sprinklers drench me with water. I believe in being a child again. I believe that when someone says they hate someone, deep down they truly love them and wish to know them. I believe in standing up for yourself even if the odds are against you.

I believe in writing a song with my heart and giving it to someone I hold dear. I believe in striving to be my best, even when I'm at my worst. I believe that crying isn’t a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength, for it takes guts to let everyone else see you cry...

Here I am....

Well here I am, the evening before what would have been Ryan's 4th birthday...

To say I'm in a state of emotional turmoil would be an understatement. Memories of Ryan bring me much joy and deep sorrow at the same time. Paul and Tegan picked up some balloons today with the number 4 on them ready to release tomorrow to our heavenly angel. I smile at the thought but it pulls at my heart. Oh how he loved balloons.

I find myself feeling somewhat relieved also which confuses me somewhat. The build up to the day, I sometimes feel, is worse than the day itself. Having said that, I cannot predict how I will wake in the morning. The tears will come I'm sure, but I know I can smile through them.

I wish I could kiss him goodnight and say "tomorrow when you open your eyes you will be 4!" To look upon him as he slept knowing I will never see him as a 3 year old again. It's a moment I'm sure all parents treasure.

Instead, tomorrow when I open my eyes I will be....

Oh I love you so much Ryan. Look for the balloons!

Dread

The weekend is approaching fast and I feel a mixture of dread and overwhelming sadness. Ryan's birthday falls on this Sunday, 25th October. He would be turning four. The questions are coming by the bucket load "what would he look like now?", "would his favourite colour still be red?", "how would we have spent his special day?", "what would I have bought him?" Oh they're never ending.

We will no doubt bake a cake like last year and release balloons covered in birthday messages just for Ryan but no matter how we spend the day, the tears will flow and the heart will break just that little bit more. Remembering the day he came into the world...hearing his first cry, looking into his eyes, touching his soft skin. All memories that I'm terrified will fade with time. It's a horrible feeling worrying that one day I may forget what his voice sounded like, that I will forget the smell of his hair, the feel of his cheek against mine. Memories are all I have left of Ryan.

It's difficult to approach the day with any level of optimism but I place incredible pressure on myself to smile. Letting myself cry and fall apart, to me, is a sign of weakness. I know I have every right to be miserable but Ryan wouldn't want me to spend the day in bed feeling sorry for myself and missing him like crazy. He would want me outside enjoying the sun, living as he would have lived, running through sprinklers, building a sandcastle or chasing insects. It's difficult to do when every moment is tainted with guilt. Every smile or bout of laughter feels like a betrayal of Ryan's memory. If I smile and laugh does this mean my love for my son has lessened? Did he not mean enough to me? Oh the emotions are so conflicting.

This time of year feels like a downhill slope. Ryan's birthday in October and then the fast approaching anniversary of his death in December. My subconscious gnaws away at me day after day. I don't consciously count down the days but just knowing it's October is obviously enough. If it wasn't for Tegan, I'm not sure I would find the strength to get out of bed on Sunday. Joy will be her main emotion with only a touch of sadness. She will sing happy birthday to him and blow out his candle and her face will be glowing with pride. She will make a wish - no doubt the same as last year "I wish Ryan was still alive" Oh darling, me too, me too....