The Fight

If you will not fight for right when you can easily win without blood shed; if you will not fight when your victory is sure and not too costly; you may come to the moment when you will have to fight with all the odds against you and only a precarious chance of survival. There may even be a worse case. You may have to fight when there is no hope of victory, because it is better to perish than to live as slaves.– Winston Churchill

I wish I could breathe these words into the hearts of every lost stranger that anorexia will taunt. I wish I could paint them over the walls of a bi-polared soul and plead them to come back together, sink my teeth into the fists of the depression and provoke the Fight from their souls.

I wish I wish I wish it wasn’t too late for me, and I was not fighting the cause while already grieving for the loss.

I wish we could all Fight. Today.



one apple … one Hope

“And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart:

Your seeds shall live in my body,apple
And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart,
And your fragrance shall be my breath,
And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.”
― Kahlil Gibran


Life is hard.

                 really hard.

Made even harder by the fact that I feel terrible guilt for saying so , like i am not appreciating the gift of motherhood and complaining about the life lived with the children I love, Like some criminal mother who burns her babies with cigarette butts. 


Im not a bad mother. I know im not. But ….. there are times when I’m standing there in a overcrowded supermarket , in a line 15 odd trolleys long with a child that has grizzled since the car ride there, and inhabited my new handbag with crumbs and raisins ….. I feel Tired, Sticky and a little

a little

…. Resentful. 


and it makes me feel like a bad mother. 


and that makes me want starvation’s cold hand to shield me through the day. 

My Darling Noah …

Can I be alone yet be with you

I want it all and I crave,  yet I scream

Don’t be far but be Gone – not near me.

But hold me dearly

Shelter my soul



I’ll look after you after I kill you

I’ll kiss you cheeks while suffocating your lungs

With you in mind I’ll pray for justice

With you in mind I’ll be criminal for thee.

Can I be alone yet be with you

Could it be that I long to be dead?

Be a memory, consume life, be nothing

But hold me dearly

Shelter my soul.

Sian Alexia.

I wrote this some time ago ….as I see looking down. Down, up, today, yesterday …  crazy how some things just keep re-applying themselves to my life. Maybe I never truly change. I am the same, still embracing sadness like mine own rock.

Once wrote for my mother , I could now scream to my son.

whoever it was who once told me grief  was a temporary state                      you lied.