Tag Archives: personal

Friendship // Helen Crook

I love my friends as they make me strong, they help me see the beauty in myself and I need that.

Sometimes I feel weak, sometimes I feel down, sometimes I wonder why I’m here, sometimes I think I am hideous, sometimes I think I am not worth the time of others, sometimes I think I’m too loud, and sometimes I am sad.

My friends tell me I am strong, they tell me I am their rock and that gives me a reason to stay strong.

My friends tell me I am funny, they tell me I make their lives brighter and that gives me a reason to be bubbly.

My friends tell me I’m here to mother them and guide them, and that give purpose to my life.

My friends tell me I am here for them, and that truly is why I am here.

My friends tell me I am beautiful, and although I don’t believe them, it helps me walk with my chin held high.

My friends tell me I am a personable and approachable person, and that gives me the boost to continue talking to others.

My friends tell me I AM loud, but they love me for it, so I shall continue to shout!

My friends make me happy, and that makes all my worries melt away and so I can carry on barreling through life.

I love my friends as they make me strong, they help me see the beauty in myself and I need that.

 

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The Mane of the Protector // Helen Crook

A lioness is fierce, a lioness is protective, a lioness is loyal, and a lioness always protects her cubs.

My cubs are daring, my cubs are bright, my cubs are gorgeous and my cubs could conquer the world.

A lioness will lead her cubs and gently direct them where they need to go, but also let them learn (and sometimes fail) so they grow to be all that they can be.

My cubs are my life, soul and reason for being, they teach me more that I could ever have imagined. For what would a lioness be without her bundles of joy, giving meaning to her life?
A mane of golden hair, I am that lioness, and I will always protect my cubs.

When does a bird gain it’s wings? // Beth Morley

The blackened words that spread over the page,
leak into the spaces not yet filled by meaning.
My words diminished by your dark totality,
the pure essence of truth you are speaking.

My words are fearful and reluctantly –
protected by the armour of a fettered cage.
Yearning for the oblivion of honesty,
where we can speak from the same coloured page.

The outbursts are unbelievable and
endearing, they are trying to offer a key –
that moulds to the intricacies of my chains and
endeavours to release, captivate me.

My words learning the safety of freedom,
constantly taught by your words – the motivation.
You are slowly releasing my honesty too,
beyond walls that are demolished by you.


Beth Morley

Girls on the Golf Course // Helen Crook

No man will ever know the closeness and love that we share, for we are soulmates, and forever a true family

My girls really know me like no man will ever really know or see

And they will be my girls, for now and forever

As they saved me. From myself and from my demons. And I know always will. Which is what makes them the truest, most beautiful, wonderful, caring.


Helen Crook

Belonging // Helen Crook, Chloe Jordan, Beth Morley

An ode to C-Nenny:

Bouncing from place to place in a childhood of neverending moods. Happiness and belonging. Words that were hollow but now as clear as the cloud we are on and the night sky we write this under.

Friendships that have blossomed into something more beautiful than words can describe.

Teaching the meaning of the word belonging and as a consequence, what it means to be truly happy.


Helen Crook, Chloe Jordan, Beth Morley

The Second of Four Years // Beth Morley

This time last year I had finished my first year (the foundation year) of my degree and now I have just finished my second year. I am officially halfway through and amazed that I have even made it this far! However, my second year has been incredibly better than the first and even though this time there isn’t anything that I want to write about specific to my second year, I still want to document the year anyway as a kind of memory log.
Continue reading The Second of Four Years // Beth Morley

To The Invisible Ocean // Beth Morley

You don’t feel like yourself,
unable to think, confused, there’s nothing going through your brain.
Emptiness.
You can’t think of anything, nothing’s going through your brain.
In a slump, it’s infuriating,
there’s nothing wrong yet your mind can’t stop thinking
that maybe something isn’t right.
You can’t think, so you don’t know what’s not right.
Nothing’s going through your brain.

Everything that needs to be done, remains undone
and you don’t feel anything.
That’s a lie,
there’s anger but you can’t direct it.
It’s frustrating.
You want to shout at yourself to do something,
to do anything but nothing’s going through your brain.

There’s wanting to be the best you can be
but how can you be your own magnum opus when you don’t even know
what that is.
Knowing that whatever you do will fall
short of even satisfactory, you’ve fallen again.

You’re restless but you can’t move, what can you do?
Lightheaded but burdened by the threat of everything unknown,
it threatens it’s impending weight upon your head.
Your brain, your eyes and nothing is working.

You exist as two: one who is aware
and understands but is still incapable of achieving.
You’re trying but limits exist as barriers
taunting your potential.
You stop trying.
There’s the one that thinks this but also exists as nothing,
nothing is happening and nothing’s going through your mind.
You have no energy to not believe in yourself
but the thoughts still exist somewhere,
they’re just waiting.


By Beth Morley

Sea Sounding Sigh // Beth Morley

Where did the time go,
I can’t really tell –
washed away by the remnants of an evening faded sun.

Walking along –
I believe – it did seem
ideal and serene, merely a dream.

Don’t close your eyes,
it will just fade away
into the darkness.

The darkness that is
the moment itself –
behind the veil of smiles the moment is dying.

For it wasn’t meant to be,
I guess that paths don’t collide –
I’ll pretend that I don’t mind

but I’ll remember the light of the evening and the sea sounding sigh.


By Beth Morley

The First of Four Years // Beth Morley

9 months completed. I’ve already debated multiple times whether to actually post this because not a lot of people know about how I felt about my first year but I think it’ll be interesting for me to look back on in the future and it’ll be a positive message (trust me on this!) for those about to move away from home/start uni. Continue reading The First of Four Years // Beth Morley