Why so twitchy?

Why is little mouse so twitchy ?

She seems so distracted and very itchy.

She snapping , offhand  and even bitchy!

 

Little mouse is tired, stressed  and unwell

Not wanting to make a slip and unleash hell.

So she is hiding in the shadows for a spell.

 

Don’t scratch your back ,or your legs, it shows

Little mouse, he has seem the scars, he knows.

Ugly, they are ugly but the need to do it just grows.

 

Today it was a cup you broke

Last week a glass dish, nothing bespoke

But enough to cause trouble leaving little mouse loosing hope?

 

Little mouse hates the shouting

The banging around, the pouting.

Not knowing why or when, always herself doubting.

 

She knows there are reasons for the raving

She feels there is something there worth saving

But can she survive the daily mental flaying.

 

 

 

So why is little mouse so twitchy ?

She seems so distracted and very  itchy.

She snapping , offhand and  even bitchy!

 

He can be so very nice and kind

You need to keep that in mind.

Which of you needs to change

Oh! it all so sad and  so strange.

Dust

In the silence little mouse could hear heart beating

Terrified she hid by the cabinet in the dark with the seconds fleeting.

She held her breath hoping against hope that she was magically invisible

Unseen to the human eye but she knew there was no hiding from the inevitable .

His figure was standing in the door now looking straight at her now, fear bites.

He is shouting  now,pulling her up to her feet! Pressure  on her wrists, pushing her fear to new heights.

“What is this , what is this” he screams his eyes bulging his mouth wide, nostrils flaring.

Running his finger along the glass shelf “Dust, dust” shoving a dusty finger toward her, scaring

Her witless, she finds it hard to breath. He pushes her towards the cabinet with the dirty shelf.

It is three in the morning  and she is so tired the little ones had run her ragged all day

The house work and cooking , his returning home late to find her tired, not wanting to play.

“What the hell do you do all day” he was shaking her now she did not know what to say.

Tears stung her eyes as she fought to hold them back , suddenly she dropped a glass…….. it broke with a crack.

There it was all in the eyes.  Little mouse  froze to say something now would be unwise.

“Clear up that glass then get those shelves dusted and while your at it make sure nothing else gets busted.”

Little mouse knew not to argue, even though she was tired , she wanted sleep but she obediently dusted.

A little relieved she watched him go back to bed , his words of her short falls all ringing in her head.

An hour later she crept up the stairs, checked on the babies all asleep, happily unaware. Gently and silently she slid into bed.

Peace, then the gift of sleep drifters into her head,tomorrow it will all start again and that thought alone fills her with dread.

Little Mouse and silence

Aha, but this silence was good , thought little mouse as she quietly breathed as she wrote in the house.

All alone for a while contented she sat, with a smile. No one to creep around, no to throw out a shout!   It was early evening and everyone was out.

Everyone that was except little mouse who was being herself and writing alone in the house.    No eggshells to walk on, no  broken glass. No one was arguing  what more could she ask.

Aha, but this silence was good, thought little mouse as she quietly breathed as she wrote in the house.

How much longer would the silence last, it would not last forever it is like war and peace she knows from time past.

So lets creep away and leave little mouse  to enjoy a few moments of peace alone in the house.

Silence is the loudest scream. Anonymous

There was a little mouse.

There was a little mouse and she lived in a house that she kept perfectly clean.

She was hard working and she ran her little house like a well oiled machine.

She loved her family and friends and she always had a smile for them as she helped them all the while.

But something was amiss as she worked and hugged and kissed.

There was something underneath that made her somehow incomplete.

She did all she could to keep her family well and protect them from her private hell.

Her children and Mr Mouse ( that is what she always called her beloved spouse)

were always first on her agenda.

She did her part and Mr Mouse  did his, he he was a storer and a mender.

Although always bright and gay Mr Mouse did like things his own way so little mouse made sure that before he came home she’d not forgotten any chore.

Helpful and obliging to all he would help anyone, who one him would call.

Yet he would harrie little mouse if she neglected her chores around the house.

No one went to play if they had not full filled their chores for the day. Too long on any favourite pastime could be construed as a crime.

Soon there came the day when all their family  got their own lives and moved away.

That left little mouse alone with Mr Mouse ( that is what she always called her beloved spouse).

Although outwardly bright and gay, he only had little mouse to boss about all day!

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