Outside the window
traffic below crawls away from all that matters.
Amongst the jammed up colors,
a pedestrian easily weaves through the congestion
slipping through the heavy flow of life.
gracefully he continues while surrounded by the unmoving,
often pausing to look up.
He alone sees the clouds above the tall buildings.
No one else remembers the sky.
© Ali Grimshaw
A need for self protection
more fierce, more essential
than life itself.
The consuming energy of keeping her heart safe.
The waning strength to keep the walls fortified.
To give without receiving.
To live without wanting
A game of survival that she only knew
how to play alone.
© Ali Grimshaw
I miss the days of your eyes
a yearning treasure seeker
when I was the X on your map.
© Ali Grimshaw
You chose me
when I couldn’t choose myself.
When I was swimming in darkness,
awash in ink,
blocking out the love.
You remained beside me
when my words didn’t make sense.
You stayed. Listening.
Seeing who I would become
and already was in the moment.
You opened up a new vista
where we stood together,
our backs to the past.
© Ali Grimshaw
Alone is different
than loneliness.
connection, a link, from one to the other.
not trusting, disbelief, an arm’s length away.
impenetrable invisible cushion
keeps me hidden even
when you think I am there.
Will I let you know me?
The jury is still out.
© Ali Grimshaw
My list is overflowing,
letters fall off the page,
some words jump
knowing they will get more attention elsewhere.
Many items tired of being ignored
have started a support group.
finish is used to making friends by now.
Each longs for special alone time with me
eagerly waiting for the big day
the black line drawn
through their middle.
The gold medal of achievement.
© Ali Grimshaw
Right now, sitting in this chair
the distance covered remains unseen.
Many treacherous miles between your first step
and where you have now arrived.
Climb the roof. Stand tall upon it.
Without hesitation see the trodden path
streams crossed, soggy socks, sunburnt ears
blistered, lost toenails, a little bruised.
Criss-cross scratches, hillside slides.
There is no shame for the road traveled.
You have traversed
this view is for you alone.
© Alicia Grimshaw
Are you sorry for the times
you tore me down
scathing words that left me
stumbling for cover
pounding me lower
knowing there wasn’t an escape route
trapped with this internal voice
causing a shrinking of my essence
down to a single drop of
fear?
© Ali Grimshaw
flashlight batteries - Ali Grimshaw 