TRUDGING THROUGH THE MIRE by Elizabeth Hipwell

Trudging through the mire

Weighed down by the fear 

Of my nonexistence

And trapped memories of traumas past.

Fretful of moving forward.

Pulled down by the concrete blocks

Of my uncertainty and isolation.

Hope is knocking at the door.

Pounding, Pounding, Pounding!

It waits patiently as I wander aimlessly,

Having to go through this,

To sort through the garbage,

To uncover the precious gem

That was there...waiting...all along.

     -Elizabeth Hipwell

                                                                                                                                   
                                                                                                                                   

SENSITIVITY by Elizabeth Hipwell

Sensitivity is my connection

To my soul and my humanity.

It enables me to be aware of

What is true, 
To empathize

And be considerate…

Sensitivity opens creative

Doorways and helps me

Explore  the hidden and 

Unknown…

Combined with self-awareness 

And an expanded inclusion of all

My sensitivity allows me to

Experience life more fully

And awake…

   -Image & Words by Elizabeth Hipwell

POISON FRUIT by Elizabeth Hipwell

You raised me up,
Then brought me down.
In between we loved, fought and got caught
In one another’s web of insincerity and deep-felt need.
The spaces were filled with warmth, passion
And a chill that could turn your toes black.
I yearned for and felt your presence long after you were gone.
The after-effects of your rhetoric seeped into the contours of my brain;
Influencing my thoughts and dictating my deeds.
You were in my life for a reason.
To teach me what I can do without and to--
Damn it, I hate to admit this--
You taught me to love and think for myself.
I may have gone kicking and screaming as I learned to do this--
Obstructing your wisdom and negating the power you had over me.
Today I am better off without you,
Because I’m not the same me.
Thank you for helping me grow,
But no thank you for weaving yourself into my very being
To the point where I was no longer me.
The bottom dropped out.
The puzzle lost it’s pieces.
I had to reconfigure those pieces to fit into a whole new me.
The power of thought gives me the ability
To choose to take what moves me ahead
And disregard what keeps me still.
Thank you for being in my life, 
Because I wouldn’t be here without the good and the bad of you.
                                          -Elizabeth Hipwell