No more heartache.

No more heartache.

I cannot take any more heartbreak

I’m worn down to my soul

I cannot afford to lose

Any more parts of me

Because I no longer feel whole

There is an emptiness that devours me

As pieces fall away,

Destined to be somewhere else

Other than at my side

Casualties of words, repeated like lies

To eager ears, that only want demise

I can take no more heartache

I’ve been crushed to the bone

Beginning to feel like

I’m meant to be alone

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Weds 9th October 2019)

 

Straight from the heart: 27. When there’s nothing left.

Straight from the heart: 27. When there’s nothing left.

So, the curtain is finally falling on my 18 and half year relationship, with my ex-husband.  Never have I ever thought, that this is how things would turn out.

It is, what it is

All the years of frustration and bottled up feelings and emotions, are coming to an end.  The life that I’ve had to date, is definitely in the past, it is my old history, and I shall neatly pack it away, hoping to never see signs of it again.  The life, that I plan to have, will have no room for negativity or disrespect, instead I aim to fill it with anything that makes me happy.

Excess baggage

There is no place in my life, or in my heart for ex-husband.  I refuse to carry this chapter of my life around like excess baggage, the weight of which would surely see me on my knees.  He has made suggestions that he would like to maintain some contact, but I just don’t have the strength anymore.  Why would I want to continue seeing someone, who has caused me so much pain and anguish?

Maybe he thinks that I may still have some need of him in my life, that I won’t cope being on my own.  But, somehow I figure he’s going to be needing me, he’s hoping that in some way or other, I will leave doors open for him, to come and go as he pleases.  That I will still be there loyal, kind and generous, still willing to help him out, as I have always done.  But I can’t, there is nothing left.

I am not that woman anymore.  I have nothing left for him.  Whatever I had left, has been soaked up and washed away.

Nothing left

I am not sure how I do actually ‘feel’ about my ex, I have no more tears left for him, they were cried out a long time ago.  I know I don’t care or worry for him in anyway.  I know I still bear a lot of anger toward him, yet I have detached myself so much, that he may as well be a stranger.  Any kind thoughts for him have long gone and I grimace at the mention of his name.  I don’t even want to have any conversations with him or about him, unless it’s absolutely necessary.

I certainly don’t want others to keep him alive in my life either, by asking if I’ve heard from him, or telling me they’ve seen/spoken to him.  After all, he is pursuing his new life.  So leave him be.

I just have nothing left for him.  Sx

So come with me
27. When there’s nothing left image 2

Sharon Carter-Wray

(21/05/2015)

Update

Reading this again, has made me feel a real sense of sadness.  Not for what happened or how things ended with my ex, but more because I can still feel the heartache of the disappointment, and the pain I was in at that time.

Next week, will mark the 5th anniversary of starting my life over, and I have never once looked back with any emotionally pangs or feeling of regret.  I know it was the right thing for me to do, but the bare bones of it is, is that if I hadn’t, I really have no idea where I would be right now.

I have a very strong belief that eventually he would have truly broken me.

I would probably have been in dire straits, with nothing to show for all my hard work and achievements.  I would have had no roof over my head, that would have surely been repossessed by now.  Even though I had spent 20 years of hard graft building up something to fall back on, it would have all disappeared.  And he would still have continued to feed on me, until he bled me completely dry.

Sadly, at that time no one really knew how bad I was, I had continued to wear the same face throughout; pulled my sleeves up as usual and got on with it.  I had no choice, because the fight to survive was going on internally.

Thankfully, that is all behind me now.

Now, when I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t just see my face anymore, I see what a remarkable woman I really am and have become.  Sx

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I’m not an easy person to forget

I’m not an easy person to forget

I, am not an easy person to forget

Though my presence may be gone

Memories of me definitely live on.

So many times I have been revisited

By many who have walked away

Only to somehow find their way

Back to me again

I seldom cut ties

I let the strings grow long

Unfinished business

Or for things left undone

They have been touched by me

So, they have to come

Words spoken or not, how I made them feel

They all have a tiny part of them

That only I can heal…

 

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Tues 22nd Oct 2019)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting ready to fly

Getting ready to fly

I stand here

Feeling like I’m on the verge

Of something amazing

As though something

I have wanted to come about

Is literally, just around the corner

But what I don’t know

Is what it is

 

For a while I visited an old dark place

That was oh so familiar in my mind

That like the true friend

When all else have gone

Remains to stay behind

But it was merely a visit

No longer a place I wished to

Dwell in or hide

It was just the memory of

The woman I left behind

 

Though many parts of her had slowly died

There are just as many that still thrive

Much as I was broken then

I had just enough glue

To put me back together again

Still beautiful and sparkling

But not so new

 

I know I’ve grown, there’s no doubt in that

But how I have done so,

Is what most will never understand

I have grown fresh wings, that are ready to fly

To new adventures and the far-off horizons

That are way, way up high

 

I’ve called in no favours or asked for help

I’ve had no one to lean on and have cried no tears

I have walked alone on my journey

That has lasted for so many years

On my hands and knees, I made it through

Getting hurt plenty along the way

But knowing, it was something

I just had I do

 

I have worked hard, to get my smile back

I have left no stone unturned

While searching for the lessons

Life had told me I still had to learn

I’m still broken

But in a much different kind of way

And though I’m good at ‘mending’ others

With the simple truths I say

All too often in my mind

My life has been in ‘pause’,

‘Rewind’, ‘action replay’

 

I must kerb my kindness, stop looking back

I must stop expecting to hear the word ‘thanks’

To be praised, acknowledged

Or receive that pat on the back

My soul has run on empty

For far too long

My heart is bursting with love to give

But no longer will I won’t waste it

On someone who is wrong…

 

Sharon Carter-Wray

Mon 6th April 2020

Nubian Queen

Nubian Queen

I have finally learnt to see

The true beauty

That lies within me

That as a child

I was never told

Or encouraged to see

I grew up in a place

Where there were few

Other faces that looked

The same colour as mine

That’s what made me

And my kin

So easy to identify

That’s the only thing

That separated ‘my kind’

 

At school

I was still alone

The only black face

Amongst my peers

I soon understood

Facing my enemies

Showed I had no fear

I learned

What I was taught

Science, English

Religion and Chemistry

But none of these

Sang praises

For people just like me

No teachers spoke

Of my history

Except from the days

Of capture and slavery

So how was I to learn

Of my ancestry?

To take it from ‘Roots’?

The enslaved ‘Kunta Kinte’?

From ‘Love thy neighbour’

And other racist tv?

For a black person

It was all negativity

 

Maybe

That’s why I stopped

Seeing my colour

And just saw

The person instead

Because that to me

Was far more important

In my head

If they were going to

Make a point

Of how they see me

Let it be for reasons

Other than the colour

Of my skin

For instance…

The way I dress

Or the entrance I make

For the way I speak

Or the company I keep

Because no matter

What my hue

There is white blood

Mixed in there too

 

So, my life may have gone

In different directions

Due to my folks

Wanting much more

And using their discretion

When choosing a

Suitable living location

They made the most

Of what they had

To give us opportunities

But it also meant

We didn’t get to feel

How bad being black

At that time

Could really be

 

And now I’ve grown

Into the person I be

Only just opening my eyes

To my real identity

I never gave credit

To the ‘black’ side of me

But, it is not just

The colour of my skin

It’s the blood and

It’s history of pain

That flows deep red

Through my veins

That gives me strength

And the power

To stand and be tall

That makes me bold

And wants to be heard

To speak my mind

And to write my words

It is an inherent part of me

Because I know deep down

That all ‘black’ women

Can still be Nubian Queens

 

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Weds 20th November 2019)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A temporary glitch

A temporary glitch

I am so tired of being let down

I am so tired of other peoples’ stupid drama

After all that I have recently been through

What has been making me happy

Has now saddened my mood.

What lifted me up, has dropped me down

Without a hint

And without a sound

I’ve always questioned, if I give too much

But I know I am wrong to ask

It is in my nature to be kind and true

I cannot curb what comes so easily

Or pretend to be anything

Other than just me

I know I will get over this spell

Disappointment will wash away

My confidence will be rebuilt with an extra shield

My heart will be lifted again

And my smile, with reinstate itself

It is just another temporary glitch

Just like the person who caused it

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Sunday 7th October 2018)

Straight from the heart: 26. At last

Straight from the heart: 26. At last

Today, I think I can safely say we have sold our house; our buyers have already booked to have their survey carried out in a couple of days time.

I am still not sure how I feel about it.  I know that I am excited, but somehow I am holding back on my jubilation, just in case it all goes ‘tits up’ again.  But, I should feel reassured, as they are putting their money where their mouth is; but until all that is done I am finding it hard to really express my joy.

It is really the best news I could have hoped for, I have been quietly praying for this for some time now.

What it means to me

It means that at last, I can finally move on and start my new life, which I have been desperate to start for well over a year.

It means that I can finally start to breathe again, knowing that peace will once again reside in my tortured soul.

It means that I can finally start to formulate plans on where I am going with my life.  I am looking forward to building my new nest, I have been out window shopping so many times and seen so many lovely things, but have kept my hands deeply inside my pockets.

It means, that at last; I can start a new history, leaving this unhappy one behind.

It means, that at last; I will have a space to call mine again, that I can fill with all things pretty.

It means, that at last; I will no longer have to look daily at a face, that has borne me such pain.

It means that at last; I can live a life without someone else’s baggage, constantly dragging me down.

It means at last; I will be free to spread my wings and fly.

It means at last; I can be me again.

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Tues 20th January 2015)

Update:

I remember so well, how I was feeling when I wrote this.  I was literally at the end of my tether; almost at breaking point.  There had been enough false hope, and my ex was playing a dangerous game, because he knew that once the house was sold; he was really going to be on his own once again, after over 18 years of being together.

But, I had lost all trust in him, and knew in my heart that if we didn’t sell, there would be a very good possibility of losing our home entirely.   He was so vindictive and callous, I believe in a way he would have been happy if that had happened, as it would mean he had taken everything from me.  And that is not something I was prepared to do, because he had already cost me a lot.

At last

On April 15th 2015, I moved into my new flat.  It wasn’t in the best condition, but I knew I could turn it into my new home.  I still don’t know how I managed to do it, it was a really difficult part of my journey, because I was so ill, weak and exhausted.  But within a few weeks this flat was transformed.  I didn’t have to buy much, because I’d paid for everything at the house, so it was all mine anyway.  However, I let him go with the bare essentials of furniture that he needed to get going.  And of course, a sum of money from the sale, for which he really was not entitled to, but it meant that we could be over and done with quickly.

To me, it was a small price to pay for my sanity and my health.  Before I met him, I was debt free, then for 18 years I was burdened by his financial carelessness.  Thankfully, I am back in that position now, and there are neither red letters through my letter box, nor wolves sniffing around my door.

But, I can now say that I am happy with my life.  I am happy with who I am, where my life is at right now and where it’s going.  My health is still an on-going concern, but at least I don’t have all the stress to deal with, which was making me so much worse.

I have said for a long time, that there is nothing I want or need, that money can buy, and I stand that by whole-heartedly.  Sx ❤️

Straight from the heart. 26: At last. Image: it's never too late
Straight from the heart. 26: At last

On the road to homeless

On the road to homeless

There is a man I see

That has been brought to his knees

I have watched

His steady decline

Over a long period of time

When I first saw him

He was at the start

Of ‘Homeless Street’

What brought him there

I do not know

But the progress he’s made

Has been long and slow

 

At the beginning

He still had his self-respect

But now

He has nothing left

He’s given in, he’s given up

He has no standards to keep

Because the taste of alcohol

Is way too sweet

It’s takes the edge off

All the misery and pain

And maybe in a bottle

He’ll find himself once again

 

But for the moment

He has let go of a life

He used to know

He doesn’t care for

Other peoples’ thinking anymore

Why should he?

When they don’t care

If he’s just got a box

To use as a blanket

Whilst sleeping out in the cold

How much longer he’ll survive

Is any ones’ guess

But I can’t see him

Ever growing old.

 

Sharon Carter-Wray

(Thurs 22nd Nov 2019)

Note: This poem is based on an actual person, whom I have witnessed go through this process, and it has been very sad to watch.  But, it is also a reminder that there is a lot of us who walk on a very thin line, literally just surviving from month to month.  And this could so easily happen to anyone of us.  Sx ❤️

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