Friday, 30 August 2013

Dear Heart september 2013 poem

Dear Heart,
Where have you been dear one?
 Are you ever coming back to me?
I wait and watch at the window for you
But it's in vain I see
I hear your cracks crunch but a little, when I hear you beat from a far
How solid are you now, have you healed those scars?
Why do you stay away when there are no bars?
I still wait for you to come back to me
With bruises on your cheek
But you do not, your face is clean
You are happy, and you ask where have I been?
Why do I not follow you, and take a leap of faith
Because dear one why make haste when love is a long road
Love is so easily lost, I was once told
My brave little soldier you are so quick to fall down that very same hole
Don't get lost in the dark, and forget your way home.

Yearn poem

I yearn for you in the night
The ache a constant reminder, I lost this fight
I thrash around, and drown in heat
Waiting, wanting until we meet
Desperate for the cure to this...
This plague you have brought to me
Under the pretence of setting me free
You captured me with a sword of heat
And now though I am stronger, you have made me weak
Weak to the plague within my heart
The plague you egnited from the start. 

Yet another red riding hood poem

Red riding hood lies on an ebony sky
The silence feeds on her wanton cry
Searing, shattering fire inside, 
Plunging, plundering deep within
Lips quivering, legs spread wide
Take me, own me, yours to ride
Paws so soft they fight the passion inside
Innocence lost, and nowhere to hide
This throbbing heart, this beating core
Yours to own forever more
Forever more I am yours. 

The Green Door and Elizabeth

I dreamt about the green door again last night. My wolf was standing next to it and it was very vibrant, the colour was like pure jade, I can practically smell the wood. It was a frustrating dream because I only remember looking at it, and my wolf seemed to be waiting for my signal to open it.
Even stranger than the recurrence of the green door is that I dreamt of Elizabeth. Elizabeth is a character I've dreamt about in the past, my unborn future child. In the past I've dreamt of her as a very young girl with a glossy brown bob and freckles, last night was different, I dreamt that Elizabeth was a teenager in our house, I heard my own voice but didn't see myself, then she came down the stairs, the essence of me in jeans, with red crimson lipstick on. It suited her. I'm wearing red today, after effect of the dream. A lot of people say sleep and dreams don't mean anything, but where do they come from? What's behind the green door? Is it the home I'm waiting to create? Or is the green door a warning? the fact that I'm yet to get beyond it's frame says to me that my subconscious isn't ready for that chapter yet.

Friday, 23 August 2013

I watch you going the same way poem

I watch you, once a burning light
Start to fade as time goes by
You were so vibrant, so bright
I looked up to you, my pretty darling light
But now I see you wearing thin
Like leather on a bag, like the shine on a tin
I wish I could pull you back but it's too late
I can't help, and I hate it. 

I once went down a similar road
I stumbled and crumbled and was left alone
You my darling, go home, go home
Don't suffer the reality that I have known
I watch you spiral down the same way
I want to hold you back, but it's not my place
It's too familiar, the memory of pain
It hurts me to watch you end up the same
Open your eyes, don't be blind
For you there is still time 
I think he's going to break your heart this time
Just like me, just like mine. 

I have felt lately like a friend of mine is going down the same path I went down with my last relationship, I am seeing reflections of my past in their present. I want to shout out and point these things out but it's not my place, it's not my mistake to make. But I did make it, I suffered it, I stayed when I should have walked away, I bled when I should have fought, I crumbled when I should have stood. I can see the same patterns emerging, the same occurrences. All this is just a feeling I guess, it's the way I'm viewing it, but in these matters I'm rarely wrong. I've been there, I've suffered this. I can see it happening all over again. 

Dreams lately :-(

My dreams have always been vivid and usually strange but lately I feel like I'm not getting rested properly because my dreams are bothering me. I dream about my wolf a lot but generally he just drifts in and out. Last night I dreamt unsettling dreams, the kind where you have no clothes on and are in a public place, but it was worse than that...stood in my underwear faced with the Keyholder and the Newone and I felt inadequate, pointless, ugly. They stared at me and in a surreal way we made chit chat while I had my bare stomach and legs on display. I woke up and didn't remember, it took about 5 minutes then the dream re-surfaced and I practically cowered. Vile, horrible, bastard dream. How dare you creep into my head and make me feel like that all over again in my own subconscious. I am worth so much more than that.

I remember the first time I genuinely felt pretty, which is frankly the most sickening blush worthy story because it was in the hall, at my fitness class, and I knew my wolf kept looking and it made me nervous and hot and bothered and amazed all at the same time. The second time was our first date. He's the only person that I've ever seen look at me like that, like I'm the only person in the room, he's the only one that's ever made me feel like that. But my dreams clearly want to interfere with my tree like confidence. I lost someone who wasn't worth keeping, to someone who isn't better than me (I keep hearing that) that fact doesn't mean I'm worth less. I am strong, I am a bright light. I wish I could sleep dreamlessly.

Monday, 19 August 2013

Reader of my words.

Are you here? I wonder
do you read the words I write?
are you one of the numbers,
that crops up at night?
Are you trying to catch a glimmer of me?
are you tied up with puppet strings?
Do you read what I write,
and wish there was more to see?
Stranger do you think of me?
the heart and soul behind the ink
friend do you miss me?
if you read this, what do you think?

my book and a headache

I'm getting a headache. :-( the ideas are flowing too quickly, and I cant type them out fast enough, especially not when my eyes need a rest and my still aching foot means I cant change position. It's strange being in this room, my wolfs room, instead of my own. I'm getting more and more used to it, I still intend to go back home and spend a few nights there by myself, but right now I'm concentrating and here I don't have unwanted distraction, but I have the comfort of my wolfs presence when I want it. I'm due on my monthly soon, for those unacquainted with the misery week of womanhood, this is generally a dull and awful few days for me. I have the feeling I'm in for a 'bad one' = mood swings, misery and a probably some very abrupt fits of random emotion. I will want my own space then.

The story of my book seems to be coming along properly now, it makes sense, gaps are being filled, I'm pleased with it, but its taking a long time. I'll be glad when I've finished this and started a new literature adventure. I've grown out of this story, I'm not Grace anymore, I'm me. I guess I've finally become myself, but I need to finish this story. It's supposed to be one of my masterpieces. I'm beginning to think my masterpiece in life will turn out to be myself.


shit shit shit shit shit!!!!!
I've screwed up a main element of my plot. I am an idiot.
I originally wrote that J & G knew each other for a short time when they were children, but were separated but this doesn't make sense for the new ideas I've developed and written. shit shit shit!!!!
I am confused, this doesn't make sense to anyone, hell it doesn't make sense to me. I don't know how to fix this now, :-( and I thought it had all fallen into place. shit shit shit shit shit

Sunday, 18 August 2013

Wish i knew who was reading my blog

I can see myself getting views sometimes very quickly after I post something, and it interests me. I would love to know what people were thinking while they read my random thoughts. I would love to know who took the time to click a post. Guess that's the mystery of these things. But thank you any stranger that does me the honour of reading a few lines.

Spell to lay a relationship to rest.

You held me for a time
but since I have walked away
I have chosen another to be mine
I cut the strings that held me
I stop the hands of our time
On my knees I pray
to never feel such pain again
I burn all that is left of you
As the sun rises this morning, and the moon sets
I bid the sun to cleanse my soul,
and let my wounds heal, my heart forget.

It's often suggested to not rid yourself of all and everything until a year has passed. It's important to be sure and if you're putting real belief into this sort of pagan rite then it should be taken seriously. It's not been a year for me, the planet in other words hasn't gone full circle, and until winter comes around again I wont fully be comfortable to start again. However I've written this and I intend to draw a circle for nothing more than my own peace of mind. I'm ready to cleanse my heart completely and this is that last thing to do. After deleting all contacts, numbers, photographs, this is all that's left. I want to give into this new chapter of my life and stop holding back so much with IF's and MAYBE's. I owe my heart a second chance, this is the way for me to do that.

A bag on top of the wardrobe

My heads at odds with itself, I feel weird and suffocated again. It's probably just restlessness. No Uni, No job, no money, not until September. I'm craving September to roll around, everything should fall into place in the autumn.

Right now I have something that's been at the back of my mind but it's bothering me now. I guess because unless I skip out of the country I'll always hear the Keyholder's name mentioned every now and again, but I have a bag on top of the wardrobe in the spare room and inside are the only things left of that part of my life. Silly things, a wooden box, a few letters and cards. Physical memories quietly tucked away out of sight. They mean nothing to anyone but me, but part of the physic belief in me thinks their mere presence in my house is holding more than just memories there. They hold the energy of childhood, growing up and first love. If I were to draw a circle and symbolically burn these items it wouldn't just destroy them, it would in wiccan terms release me completely. As this bag is the only thing left of my puppet strings. It's not been a year yet but it feels like a century. I feel like it's time to let go of all and everything otherwise I wont be able to fully give into this new adventure.

I shouldn't have put this off for so long. Not with my wiccan ideas and rituals. I should have let the last of it all go when I let him go. I'll draw the circle tomorrow.

One of those feelings again

Having one of my weird feelings again. I don't know what's up. I keep feeling like something's coming, maybe I'm just restless. I have two friends abroad but they're updating regularly. My family is at a settled point as far as I can tell. Truth is I missed a pill from my packet for the first time in my life, it completely threw me into a panic. It's fine! I checked it out, there's nothing to worry about but the mere fact I'd missed one freaked me out. It must have been my injured foot and all the tablets I was taking I guess it just skipped my mind when I slept before my alarm but there's no excuse. With this feeling reeling in my head then having a minor fright like that did not help.

I feel like something's coming, like I can smell the rain of a storm before it comes crashing down. I will be drawing the cards later but they're not with me. Idiot. I had them with me all the time a few months ago but I haven't needed them in a while, they're at home and I feel like that's where I should be. Maybe that's it. Maybe my subconscious is feeling homesick, perhaps I should go back and just take a couple of days to remember my room and my four walls that I started my book in. I'm just so restless, I need to breathe and I have that suffocation feeling again.

I'm going to go home, I'm going to spend some time with my pumpkins and draw a circle in my room. A proper circle. I have a few things I've been meaning to go through, and some feelings I need to put to rest I guess you could say. Then I'll hopefully have cleared my head.

Friday, 16 August 2013

Waiting poem

So long since I last saw your face
the warmth of your hand is a memory
a memory I wont let fade
The war it tore so much apart
but I sit here and wait for our lives to re-start
So long I sit here as lines begin to grow
and marks burnish my hands
I grow old as time trudges on
but still I wait for you to come back.
I wait for you to come home.
But the darkness of death does arrive
and the light of my life goes out
I walk into the mist, a lost and ended life
I see you, surely its you, as real and strong as I knew
standing there you smile at me and say
"I've been waiting for you"
Oh but I didn't know
you too were waiting for me to come home

Thursday, 15 August 2013

Life passing me by

I'm in one of those reflective moods tonight,
 When you sat up with a busted foot and you're alone all you have is a one way conversation with your thoughts. I'm going into my last year of university, it will be over in a flash. My first few weeks when I hated it my sisters said damn three years, but its flown by. Now I'm asking myself, where the hell is my life going? I know time flies, I know I'll blink and be dead, but seriously, I feel like I didn't even start living until last Christmas. I've felt and done more and became more in myself the last six months than I've done in my entire life. What the hell was I doing before! I was wasting away, googling things and dreaming of things I wanted to do instead of going out there and grabbing my life with both hands. I cant really blame anyone but myself, but I really truly sit and wonder what I was doing all that time? I was living half a life.

It's not just being with my wolf, the experiences and feelings I get from that part of my life are a big deal, they basically throw me off chart everyday, and yes the sex is probably still the craziest, most unbelievable experience I'm yet to get used to, but it's not just that making me feel alive. I'm a different person. I am not the Miss Siviter that was dragging herself along quietly in someone's shadow all those months ago. I've somehow become a bright light in my own life, all by myself. I did that, I made myself happy. I wouldn't want people to think I changed myself deliberately or with a plan, it's more like, I felt free and comfortable to finally become myself. After that there was no going back. I've had more fun and more excitement this year than I thought I'd get ever! Was my life really that boring? Was I really that person I'm struggling to remember? The answer is yes, my life was slipping away, thank god I've jumped on it and have learnt how to take the wheel.

I know I'll be alright on my own if necessary, I could pick myself up again and carry on but I hope I don't have to, half the adventure of life is sharing it with someone worth while.


Sometimes I ask myself what exactly made me want to be a writer. If I'd been a confident little girl who made friends more easily would I have not needed to read and write to escape the real world. If I wasn't so sensitive to the reality that is present in our world, would I not need to escape then? What put me on this path? My mother encouraging my love of reading? The imaginary friends I basically put on paper to make their presence feel more acceptable? When did my soul decide that there were too many random and intricate thoughts in my head to stay in there?

I don't try and show off on this blog, I guess because this is merely my easy and convenient way of talking to nobody, I merely write as I'm thinking and have little to no editing process. My book has come along so slowly, there are others I've written that have flown out, but my one treasure of a story line is still trudging along, I think because I'm afraid to mess it up. Its got so much of me in it, I'm almost scared to finish and let it go.

I swore to myself I'd rise above the life I was born into, keeping it short-that's really not going to take much, but its still pushing me, I want a better life and I want acknowledgement. Some therapist one day might say I was driven by the formation of my family, always fighting to be heard above the towering pillars of my brothers, always wanting to be noticed, to be wanted. Well whatever, but I admit I desperately want some sort of recognition, some proof that I'm worth while in someone's eyes.

How does anyone ever know that they're on the right path? Is it engraved in our skin what we're meant to do, and who we're supposed to be? I wish it were in stark black ink so I could read it. Sometimes when I get a block and can't progress my book I wonder if I'm kidding myself, if I'll ever get this book in someone else's hands, I have to kick myself hard and drink some tea and remind myself of my promise. Because if I don't have that, I have nothing. It's not just a hobby, it's my way of life.

Lost Confidence poem

Can you hear me?
Can you see my hand pressed against the window?
Why don't you let me in? I'm stood out in the cold
You shut me out, left me alone
It's cold, I don't have a coat.
I thought you would take pity
you took so much before
but instead you shut your curtains
you bolt up your door.
Once you were my castle, the keeper of my soul
now you shut me out, and its so cold.
You've cast me outside, wont let me back in
I have no coat, it's so cold I'm shivering
I used to make you strong
why have you let me go?
I used to be your confidence, now I've fallen so low.


A wedding is one day, marriage is a lifetime...or at least it should be if it's the real thing. That's how I'm starting this because clique as it is, I truly believe in the ritual of marriage, but I do not believe in a spoilt brat in a white dress stamping her feet, or the groom yawning his way through a colour ideas and potential photo shots. A year of stress, saving, deposits, all for one day! How can it take twelve months to plan one day? Is it really that important to you to spend £500 on a dress you wear once? seriously lets not kid ourselves and pretend we can shorten that netted puffy monstrosity and wear it again, you will never wear it again!

A marriage between two people that love each other shouldn't be a big show in front of people, half of whom you hardly speak to and don't even like. Deciding to go through the rest of your lives together legally acknowledged as man and wife should be a happy memory in your hearts, not some pretentious cripple the bank experience that half the guests will criticise the morning after. Ok so if I were insanely rich and money was expendable then yes I would hire performance dancers and yes I would have the most amazing firework display but being a normal person, in a normal everyday life, a big showy wedding just isn't worth it. Its the act of getting married that's important, not the flashy trimmings you put around it.

Why do so many people put such pressure on this one day that you want to be the ultimate fairytale, life isn't a fairytale, neither is this marriage, that's not what love is about. You want the attention on you all day from all these guests why? The love of your life, that man or woman you're marrying, they will have their attention on you all day because they love you and want this to be special, its their eyes that matter. So really besides a few very close people who you share your lives with, why do you need anyone else? and why do you need fancy napkins and flower petals and whatever else you've poured your savings into all year?

If you desperately want to marry the person in your life, then head down to the registry, in a pretty dress with the people closest to you in tow, say what you mean to each other, but keep it short because you have your whole lives to keep expressing your love, sign the paper and then throw a party. Forget all the rubbish society dictates makes a perfect wedding. If you're really in love none of it will matter. If it's the real thing it will be perfect.

Tuesday, 13 August 2013

Crying, alone, I hurt my foot.

I hurt my foot, it's bad. I ran to the car and fell and hurt my foot somehow, twisted or's swollen up to the size of mars and it's murdering me with the pain. I didn't even want to go out today, I wasn't in the mood, I've been having nightmares for two weeks about running for my life and falling over and getting caught right before I wake up. Always falling over, I should have known not to run anywhere.

I'm sat alone and miserable now, in pain. All I want is a cuddle and there's slim to none chance of that. I can't believe how much this hurts. Did it hurt this much when I was 9 and broke my nose running into a wall, smashed my gum and poured of blood? I don't remember that pain, but this is brutal. I'm not sure if I'm crying more because it hurts so much or that I'm upset because I'm alone in my room and feel fed up and pointless. My book isn't flowing again and I'm lost, and all I want is some love right now. this hurts so much and I don't want to be on my own. Usually I'm fine alone ok, I can handle things alone, but I feel empty and confused and now I've hurt myself to the point of having to sit here with my leg bandaged. Why am I alone? I shouldn't be on my own when I'm hurt and upset, am I being childish?

Obviously there are things more important than me, whether its food, football, fun, raiding, families, everything. Usually I can keep my own company, give myself the affection I need but what is it about hurting yourself that makes you feel needy and pathetic? It's not like I even have Jim conjured up in my mind because my book isn't flowing and I don't know what's happening. I want to be cuddled until I fall asleep so my mind is taken off this feeling and I sleep dreamlessly. I'll forget about this awful feeling of misery in the morning, but right now I just wish I wasn't on my own. I shouldn't be on my own in this room, somebody should be here loving me. I don't care how pathetic that sounds.

Heart speaking again.

It feels so good being held in your hands
you're so strong, you keep me safe
I like it when you press me into your chest
as if you'll never leave me, as if this is it
If you change your mind set me down with care
but for now, hold me a little longer
if it ends I'm not scared
but just hold me a little longer, don't set this heart down yet.

Hot Air Balloon

My wolf took me to the Bristol Air Balloon Festival, one of the dreams I've had on my bucket list for a few years now. I went up in a balloon and felt that familiar excitement and shot of adrenaline like a Sambuca stinging the back of my throat. I always said I was a doer not a dreamer, bit by bit I'm living my life through wonderful experiences and at the moment my wolf is the best one yet. There's something almost unreal about the whole thing, as if I'll wake up tomorrow and I've dreamt up the whole thing, my mind couldn't imagine up anyone more perfect to fit me. So much has changed in the last six months I'm still catching my breath, I'm looking back to last Christmas thinking-Is that me? That weak quiet thing crying on the kitchen floor? Was I really that empty?

When I walked into that fitness class for my regular routine and saw a randomer staring did I ever think I'd even see him again, yet alone be unexplainably attached to him a handful of months down the line...How do these things come about?  I'm still amazed.

My Hot air balloon ride was exactly as I imagined, being in love again however is catching me off guard at every corner.

Saturday, 3 August 2013


Sometime after winter has passed
When the ground is softer and the days last
That's where I'll be found, 
Lying dead upon the ground 
That's where I laid my last 
When I cried and rued the past 

When the rain has washed away my blood
When the words I wrote are understood
That's when I'll be found one day
When the air is clogged with the smell of decay
You'll find me dead on the ground
I died there alone without making a sound.

Wandering poem

I'm lost, again
I don't know if I was ever found
Wandering this way and that, 
Listening to my own feet on the ground
If I wandered off this cliff would it matter,
If I fell all the way down?
If I tilt upon the edge, no one is here to see
No one would cry out, nobody would stop me
And when would my body be found?
Some weeks after winter has passed
When the ground is softer and the days last
Then they would see a crumpled me
And people will curse and sigh
Poor person wandered off the edge, 
I wonder why? I wonder why. 
If I wandered off the edge, would I be able to fly?
Such a gift; the gift of flight, how I long to fly
But if I fall to the bottom, how long will it take me to die? 

Winter is coming

September is fast approaching, for me September has always been a welcome month. The air is crisp, fresher, it's a time of new beginnings when the smell of new pencil sharpening's sets a tone. It won't be long before Christmas baubles are dripping off every shop window and finding the perfect wooly hat is a priority. I don't get many ideas in the winter months, but I definitely do my best writing when the rain is hammering against the window and I'm wrapped up in a blanket and my fingers are cold but rapid on the computer keyboard. Hot mugs of steaming tea, tomato soup, tins of chocolate biscuits...that's where I lose myself in my writing. That's where I'm home and comfortable. 

I've never looked forward to a Christmas this much before, I feel warm and snuggled into this chapter of my life and I'm certain this winter won't just pass me by In a miserable haze of rain and sleet. This year I'm focussing on the brights, the reds of holly, the greens of Christmas trees, the silver of tinsel and the brown of hot creamy chocolate in a mug. I'm craving the feel of winter because my book needs it. I've spent too long wandering the kingdoms with Grace and its time to move on. I have to finish this and soon.