Conflicting Emotions.

What the title says.

S C Richmond

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She tried to ruin my life, she was full of hatred, bitter and twisted by life and the way she chose to see it. , always blaming other people.

I offered up friendship in the beginning, eventually withdrawing because no one stays around to be beaten with the emotion stick for too long.

My life continued without her in it, sure there would be the odd mention here and there and times when she would rear her head just to see if she could hurt again, on the whole though I managed to erase her from my life. I believe that it’s no good fighting fire with fire, sometimes it’s just easier to walk away.

Then I hear on the grapevine that she’s ill, that throws me into a spin. Half of me cares the other half doesn’t even want to acknowledge it. I sit alone wondering what I should…

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Hasty describes one of those moments



For decades

The fabric of our lives

Rubbed shoulders

Seam to seam

Surrounded by his stuff

For more than half of my life

He liked his slacks creased

And his jeans on hangers

He only used puffy hangers

To avoid pointy shoulders

No long sleeves

No sweaters

And tonight

I walked into the closet

Half empty

His side gone

No more puffy hangers

No more creased slacks

Just a bare bar

Waiting to make new

Polyester memories

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More Hasty poetry



The light was shining through the curtain.

Morning, once again, came far too early.

I had beat the alarm clock going off today

I never, ever beat those annoying notes

But today I had and so I laid still listening

To the birds breaking the a.m. silence

I realized I was above the covers, dressed

Having fallen asleep before I had meant to

I felt his hand in mine, strong and warm

His hand held mine and I thought briefly


Don’t ever let go

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Good advice from Hasty



Like in the physical world

There are dangerous places

In the emotional world too

Places you shouldn’t tread

And if you have to

And I mean absolutely must

Then it is best not to dwell

Don’t take a picnic blanket

Or plan to stay for tea

Maybe take a bit of extra time

To put on that coat of armor

And perhaps take your phone

In case you need some backup

It is amazing how strong we feel

Warriors ready for battle

Ready to trip and tackle

Feelings you know are there

Just waiting for you to say “hi”

It’s as if we can take anything

Mostly anything we might find

Anything we might run into

But somehow those places

Are good at hiding things

Best left until you’re charged

All lives recharged and saved

Because those places

Those deep dark scary

Motherfucking dangerous places

They don’t mess around


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Fixing my own boat

Lizzi sailing on and fixing her leaky boat.


I’m sinking.

I’ve been sinking for a while, if I’m honest. Probably since before I began this blog, a little over four years ago. Likely since childhood. Life works in ups and downs for us all, with a few peaceful patches, a surprisingly large number of dangerous squalls, and a handful of downright maelstroms. I’ve weathered them all. Just.

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The Blooming – Stephanie Bennett-Henry

Stunning poem

Nicole Lyons

The Blooming

Call it whatever makes you feel good
for turning away from the mess
that I finally grew into. I own it.
Took me this long to finally fit into
the misunderstanding of my own eyes
and the way my heart beats much
deeper than the surface of a view that
can change colors when no one’s looking.
I have never stopped looking.
But I’m not looking back to twenty years ago.
I am the twenty years ago.
And you don’t see it.
Nobody sees it.
Have you ever lived a life where time stops
and never starts again?
The clock is broken. Calendars blacked out.
It hurts to stand still
but the running… the running takes me
in a circle to the place when the clock
is still ticking and it’s loud.
I hear it. It rips through my heart
like my eardrums are busting open
and the…

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