Confused Feeling at the Apex of Labyrinths

how do you move on
on from the top
the best feeling
feeling of happiness
feeling of belonging
feeling of acceptance

how do you move on
when you feel so attached
attached at the apex
apex of passion
apex of care
apex of talent

how do you move on
when the heart holds you back
the mind confused
confused of the feelings
confused of the future
confused of the implications

how do you move on
on from the best
faithful leaps into unknown labyrinths
labyrinths of darkness
labyrinths of insecurity
labyrinths of fear

How do you move on?

Enigma Girl

We all see her walk into the room –
her head held high and her smile
as radiant as the sun.
She swirls around the room
like a sweet addictive scent
and everyone is drawn to her,
birds to nectar.
We feed off her radiance and get
high off her fumes of fun
and swoon all the way to
the land of fantasy and
She’s worse than cocaine
and sweeter than sugared honey drops.
She holds her own and makes even
the biggest of us feel

But when it comes to love
she seems to be careful who
to let into her world…
Because she has been hurt
by the one before
(who was the first).
She’s an enigma gypsy
running away from the feelings
that unlock the doors of that pain
and she refuses to be vulnerable again.

She frustrates all of us because
we cannot get into her life as
deeply as we all want to.
And it seems like she wants us
to come to that place but then
she slams the door in our faces
and we stand with broken noses,
shattered hearts but somewhere
I realise it’s not her fault.

And so they keep running after her
and she doesn’t understand why…
She breaks her mirror in fury and
cries a river of confusion to wash
away her insecurity which always
return in showers.

She is blessed, however, and she knows,
she knows that she is special in some way.
One day she will receive the package
she ordered in her dreams and she’ll be

free of her chains!

Insecurity Security

She stumbles along the corridors
of her life and is slightly ashamed.
She hides, sticks to the walls;
head down, eyes lowered.
Her stride mimics her esteem:
insecure; weak; damaged.

Living in a world where
hate is celebrated
and love is seen as weak.
She is confused, insecure.
Her tears comfort her;
the pain reassures
she is alive.
In absence of tears
she feels dead:
they make her feel like that.

She avoids mirrors;
dodges photos.
Sits at the back, mute,
no attention is good attention,
she says to her teddy bear friend.

But she always believed.

She found an equal.
Her dead spirit was raised
from the grave of
corridors and classrooms.
Her tears dried up;
the clouds began to fade.
She never knew
the sun was so bright and hot.

She was saved.
Saved by self-discovery
of inner beauty
magazines dare not talk of:
saved by her
Insecurity Security.