Head down, back bent,
climbing back into yourself
fear perspiring on your forehead.
Looks like you could use a lift.
Travel forward with me
I will steer for awhile.
You can coast.
I will pedal out the questions.
You can consider answers.
Life can be different
on a bicycle built for two.
© Ali Grimshaw
Despair for the moment to come
willing my body to enter the room
a mountain of mortification on my back
facing those faces
being seen while craving camouflage.
Owning the me that showed up today
failure and intention,
with a disappointing lack of action.
While seeking an empty seat I am
investigating the ability to shed my skin,
to start fresh. Becoming
a blank slate that holds
not a bit of old chalk dust.
© Ali Grimshaw
She could think about something else
a distraction from the pain
another new form of an old approach,
all temporary fixes,
that will return her to the same spot in the maze.
Unfortunately familiar torment.
Hands clenched to aching,
nails biting skin,
jaw clenched.
Her body’s defiance to the status quo.
Suffering unnoticed by a hurried world.
“Not this time.” She whispers. “This time
I will make my own exit.”
© Alicia Grimshaw 2016
The quiet between us
like floating icebergs
tongues frostbit into stillness
is it that we have forgotten what to say
misplaced our formula to speak,
a habitual slow retreat to safety?
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing.”
I am uncertain how to start the
defrost cycle.
© Ali Grimshaw
When she fell
in her pain she was grateful,
to all those along the way who
patiently taught her how to rise to her feet.
showed her how to dust off,
heal the wounds,
start again.
After years of practice
she wasn’t afraid of falling anymore.
Dirty knees were honorable.
© Ali Grimshaw 2016
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 