Stars between the cracks in existence.

*insomnia and pain related ramblings.

I sit beneath dark starless skies and I wonder why the clouds must hide them my from view. I eat beetroot straight from the pack using the same spoon i used to eat the tinned peaches, I am hungry, but right now I eat for the sake of the naproxen pill I just swallowed. I chase it with pain killers and wait patiently, sipping sweet tea and wondering what else I can eat. One, two, three, four I know the source of today’s pain and the tiredness that rocks deep at the core of my soul. One, two, three, four. I could quit. I won’t though. i ponder my own insanity as I recall the screwed up sheet of paper with pencil scribblings of my plans for the year. I could quit. I am my
own worse enemy. I am stubbornness with a capital S. One, two, three, four. I wonder what kind of muscle memory it takes for a person to write pen to paper. Today I danced in the perfect rhythm of the beats I counted in my head as I stared at my feet. One, two, three, four…four times I looked self discovery in the face, in the faces of the other dancers as they stared indifferently at me facing them instead of the blank magnolia wall. It is only through failure that we learn to excel. Some would call my coordination a failure, i call it a triumph. I look again to the skies and wonder why I cannot see the twinkling of the dying lights, why must there be only darkness. I’m hungry and consider cereal as an option as the pain killers kick in and the naproxen sets to work. I try to recall the last time I slept straight through the night, but my memory struggles to go that far. Stifling a yawn I grab my hot water bottle, another piece of of beetroot and climb back into bed, with heavy eyes, I look one last time into the dark skies and hope I might see a single star  from between the cracks in existence.

Karen Hayward ©2016. 

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Welcome to my blog! Here you will find different forms of creative writing, lots of swearing, erotic poetry, random thoughts, beautiful imagery, but most of all you will find a version of truth. My truth, this is the way that I see the world. However, all of my work is a form of creative writing, a combination of truth and fiction. I write to express my creativity, not my needs!

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