Inner World Mayhem: awaiting feedback

I have given my manuscript to four readers, one reader has daughter traversing the anorexic landscape. I’m mulling through the feedback as it rolls in. My body is sick; a winter bug that has left me horizontal, vulnerable and deaf.

Yesterday, I saw my psychologist. I’m struggling: illness adds a whole new dimension to redesigning the inner world. It flays you. So, I’m stuck with the unpleasant feelings. Loneliness bites. It invites me to run towards myself not further away.

‘The Anorexic yah, yah,’ doesn’t go away. I’m still learning to live with it.

tree flower old metal waste junkyard iron recycling scrap scrap metal scrap iron

The Glass Wing Butterfly

I spread my wings

to fly and be free

out in the endless blue

I crave peace

a fundamental ache

that smacks my chest hard

but my wings are broken

I’m flapping them 

but the wind passes through them


earth bound black line drawings encase me

shame and guilt and smallness

my manuscript fades

words bleed off the page

distortion mixes with reality

I sit among the chaos

that has become so normal

stop, feel and know it will pass

I breathe

the inner critic always yells the loudest

fanning insecurity

pushing perfectionism 

it loves me small

in the sun

I wrap the shards around me

the light and the darkness

I choose who I’ll befriend

Anorexia is there 


the shadow lives but doesn’t rule

it gave me these words









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