Feed Me

What I want and what I need

what I want to want

and what I think I want

are different

and changed again.

 

Praise sandwiched in snide greens  I can deal with.

But praise unbound leaps and gags the wary mind.

 

So feed me:

News in small digested parcels.

Awe in sane confects I can see and understand.

Joy in self-contained units, allotments of peace.

Lust in sanitised tray with neat compartments.

Change in easy gulps, fear in whispered inklings.

 

Feed me when the world turns colder.

Don’t open what I cannot bear.

Close the door, the draughts, the weather…

I fear ‘too much’, I crave no more.

Who Is It For?

I will be honest with you.  I started this blog without any thought that anybody would actually read it.  I only told two people about it (or that I was thinking about it).  It was more like an online diary, a place for experimentation, a means of holding myself accountable for writing every day.  I would not post every day, because some things take longer to write, but I would know if I was working or not.

It was to be a place of searing honesty.  Somewhere where I wouldn’t be able to hide behing my professional mask, my deadlines, my other multiple roles.  It was to be me vs. myself in the ring, two sumo wrestlers trying to outface each other. Only the opponent counted.

And then I discovered that I was being watched, that there are people reading this.  Complete strangers, some of them.  Who take the time to comment or ‘like’ my outpourings.  I had never dared share my writing before.  I had always been afraid of … being told that I can’t write, shouldn’t write, should stick to the day job etc. etc.  I feel raw as a newly hatched chick, I shiver a little in anticipation.  I am honoured and humbled.  Thank you, dear readers.