I don’t go There anymore. To your bower nestled High Amongst the windswept tors. Where your bones were wrestled Deep Before the ground had thawed. I don’t go There anymore.
Thank you, Vicky. I appreciate you taking the time to read my work. It’s a strange thing to reflect on these emotions and then write them down after such a long time. But I’m finally ready to do so.
Yes, nor am I Dea. What is for certain is that I’m surprised how much of that time in my life I compartmentalized, and even shied away from so that I could cope with other aspects of my life. Now I’m looking back. But I’ve changed a great deal. I have a different perspective. And things are less raw, so that I can flirt with the threshold a little.
Niamh, it’s quite a thing to write a poem and for someone to be moved to tears reading it. I’m humbled, really. Thank you for taking the time to read my work.
Thank you, Aoife. That it brought you to tears is moving to me. It means that the poem resonated. As always, I appreciate you taking the time to read, and to comment.
Thank you so much! Yes, letting go is part of the process. And hopefully it can lead to acceptance, without the need to forget. However difficult that may be. I’m so glad you took the time to read.
Thank you so much, Alex. Yes, the few spare lines at the end is my attempt at suggesting that while we might try and hide away, and even forget, it’s impossible to do so. So perhaps remembering and acceptance is really the best course of action.
Poignant and haunting.. this poem clutches at my heartstrings, reminding me that there are some things we have to leave in the past, though it hurts to 💜
Thank you, Anna. Yes, you’re quite right, in the past they’ll remain. And that’s very difficult. But trying to leave them behind is really impossible, even though we might try. So, I guess, acceptance is the only course, and remembering. I appreciate you taking the time to comment.
Thank you as always, Nazish, for commenting. While I started Little Griefs to process some of these feelings through poetry, I hesitate to keep on posting so much about this period of my life. However, I’ve taken the view that I’ll simply continue to exorcise those emotions that happen to spring to mind on the day. Sometimes they’ll be sad, othertimes more phlegmatic or optimistic. Either way, I’m glad you had a connection to the piece.
Yes, that's the thing. Poetry doesn't bow to our decisions. It has a mind of its own. Let it flow. Let it go. But not in the traditional sense of the word. Let it move in you like a river. Only this could save us, I suppose.
Yes. The truth is, I'm coming to understand that whether or not the writing I enjoy doing attracts enough interest that I'd be able to make it my primary income, is irrelevant. It's been my therapy. Without it, who knows where I'd be.
JUST LET IT GO. WHATS HOLDING YOU BACK. YOU HAVE TO GO ON.
Just beautiful 💔
Thank you, Vicky. I appreciate you taking the time to read my work. It’s a strange thing to reflect on these emotions and then write them down after such a long time. But I’m finally ready to do so.
Poetry is the unsaid echo of your soul - don’t stop
I don't want to go back there anymore, I am not the person that I was when I lived there
Yes, nor am I Dea. What is for certain is that I’m surprised how much of that time in my life I compartmentalized, and even shied away from so that I could cope with other aspects of my life. Now I’m looking back. But I’ve changed a great deal. I have a different perspective. And things are less raw, so that I can flirt with the threshold a little.
I guess I'm just drawn to what makes me cry today such a beautiful poem 😢 ✨️
Niamh, it’s quite a thing to write a poem and for someone to be moved to tears reading it. I’m humbled, really. Thank you for taking the time to read my work.
Oh this one has brought tears to my eyes! Beautifully emotive writing, Scott!😭💜
Thank you, Aoife. That it brought you to tears is moving to me. It means that the poem resonated. As always, I appreciate you taking the time to read, and to comment.
I love your beautiful words. Heart touching beautiful. 🩶🤍
Thank you, Rea. I'm glad the poem resonated. And I always appreciate the encouraging comments.
How heart wrenching in beauty and haunting sorrow for something that’s not at all easy to let go. Beautiful. So happy I read your piece today. 🖤
Thank you so much! Yes, letting go is part of the process. And hopefully it can lead to acceptance, without the need to forget. However difficult that may be. I’m so glad you took the time to read.
Gorgeous piece!!! ❤️
Thank you, Katherine. I appreciate that. And I’m glad it connected. It’s so encouraging to get such positive feedback.
Amazing piece.. love the structure and the quick jab in your side at the end ❤️
Thank you so much, Alex. Yes, the few spare lines at the end is my attempt at suggesting that while we might try and hide away, and even forget, it’s impossible to do so. So perhaps remembering and acceptance is really the best course of action.
It seems to harken back to Edgar Allen Poe too in a likely unintentional but really fitting way..
Perhaps.. but I’ll go down fighting as long as I can, it’s the human way after all ✊❤️
Thanks again, Alex. Yes, I think that Poe does seem to be a subconscious influence on some of my poetry, so it's interesting you point that out.
Poignant and haunting.. this poem clutches at my heartstrings, reminding me that there are some things we have to leave in the past, though it hurts to 💜
Thank you, Anna. Yes, you’re quite right, in the past they’ll remain. And that’s very difficult. But trying to leave them behind is really impossible, even though we might try. So, I guess, acceptance is the only course, and remembering. I appreciate you taking the time to comment.
This took me back to a place that aches, but I am never sorry to visit it. Beautiful writing, Scott.
Thank you as always, Nazish, for commenting. While I started Little Griefs to process some of these feelings through poetry, I hesitate to keep on posting so much about this period of my life. However, I’ve taken the view that I’ll simply continue to exorcise those emotions that happen to spring to mind on the day. Sometimes they’ll be sad, othertimes more phlegmatic or optimistic. Either way, I’m glad you had a connection to the piece.
Yes, that's the thing. Poetry doesn't bow to our decisions. It has a mind of its own. Let it flow. Let it go. But not in the traditional sense of the word. Let it move in you like a river. Only this could save us, I suppose.
Yes. The truth is, I'm coming to understand that whether or not the writing I enjoy doing attracts enough interest that I'd be able to make it my primary income, is irrelevant. It's been my therapy. Without it, who knows where I'd be.