Juliette45 Poetry (4)

The feeling ..hard to explain
I recognise myself only in name
the sense of self merely a shell
the only feeling - living in hell

The light - end of tunnel is barely in sight
as sleeplessness reigns yet another night
So much to live for but lacking foresight
straying towards wrong - rarely the right

Desire to push the self destruct button
knowing full well result equals nothing
hoping like hell this night won't be long
hoping to find the will to be strong

Relentless struggle tomorrow will bring
and maybe the bell of hope will ring
may it chime really loud penetrating my mind
and reach the place it's destined to find

She dons the leather from afore
With knowledge she is young no more
The sweats once worn around the place
Are now the beads displayed on face

Awareness peaked in a first love rush
Has been replaced by a mid-age flush
Still the same inside her head
Struggles to explain the red

One minute in complete control
One hot flush she starts to fold
Could someone tell the world the cause?
It's just the f**king menopause

Wine is just my favourite thing particularly red
The first glass slides down easily and goes straight to my head
The second one more slowly drunk more velvety the taste
By now the dinner on the stove is bound to go to waste

For once the bottle's opened it begs to be consumed
And by the third I couldn't care about the dinner ruined
Husband coming home from work can go and take a hike
By now I'm on the fourth glass and I'll do what 'er I like

"I'm working on my art dear" is something I might say
Reply comes fast and sharp dear "but where's your take home pay?"
The best line of defence they say is always to attack
But I hear my name being called so loud from a Merlot in the rack

It only seems like minutes since I had the first few sips
But once my toe swirls in this pool I can't just take a dip
I have to swim for all my life to reach the other side
And when I do I start again its ugliness to hide

She bangs her head against the wall to replace internal pain
Reality's too much for her she fills her glass again
The clock is not about to turn its hands back around
The screaming guilt within her head is now the only sound

She wretches in the morning time to rid her gut of guilt
She ripped apart their precious life he assumed was almost built
Thus far her slate had been so clean betrayal not in sight
If only she did not give in to lustful lures that night

Forbidden touch, a kiss too long she lay down in his bed
Thrusting pleasure, lingered looks, nothing need be said
The deed was done he turned away, no sign of love in this
No thought of what the cost would be for a stolen piece of bliss

Her buttons done, a taxi phoned, a tear sprung to her eye
All the while a heart that knew it couldn't live a lie
The truth confessed, useless tears, devastation unfolds
The clock it turns its hands right back, confession goes untold