worried not worried

empty arms 2018 .png

It’s been years. 


Sometimes I worry the person I used to be

 is still inside me, 

and could come back

if again I was worn out and addicted. 

Ciagaretts and loniless

Stuffy air and pushy strangers

The city wasn’t good for me


Amongst other things


I had a horrible temper and a permanent frown. 

Stressed out, I manically cleaned.

I distracted myself incessantly 

I was sick and tired to my core

And I worried all the time.


Even so, I wanted a baby. 


I still want a baby. 

I want a child

Everything in me is tugging in anguish

Saying, “Now.”

It’s something I need to do. 


It’s never been a decision

It’s irrational to its core

It’s like asking for a miracle. 

I know it will be hard

I worry the child will turn me bitter

Motherhood could wither me

If I was too giving, patient, forgiving, like before

I worry about the person I could become, 

Or turn back into. 


Driven by frustration

Fuelled by resentment

I used to scream and shove

I can feel the imprint of those flames

I worry about that anger. 


But I’m different now.

The change was fairly fast 

It happened after I moved to the county


I am not the person I was. 

But I will always be me to the core. 

This is where I am meant to be 

I am my self


I’ve learned to be at peace. 

The waves inside are calm

Feasting on fields, breathing the air

I have been happier now than ever

And Im not worried about anything 


Now I get shudders of joy, tearful happiness from small things

And it will happen, one day

I will be a mother