I Told Them

.

I told them
I spoke to them.
I wrote to them.
I told I told I told

I screamed.
I yelled
I whispered
I cried i cried, I cried

But They didn’t listen.

So I stopped
Screaming
Yelling
Whispering

My tears dried up

I stopped writing
I stopped talking
and
I never told again

All the pain,
the pain
It hid behind my smile
it cowered behind my eyes
and if someone, anyone, would have noticed
just once
once

Maybe I would have told again…

 

Happiness – Spoken Word

When I was a kid I asked my mother; Mummy, will I ever be happy?

And she looked at me with those eyes that never looked at me and offered a straight up No.

And ever since then, I have been chasing happiness-scrambling falling over my feet to catch the train that would take me there. I bagged my seat on that racing train and bagged it, marked it mine, mine mine. And I looked around the carriage and I saw faces, many faces, no smiling faces just empty faces that screamed:

Where were you? Who are you? When are you coming home?

In a cacophony of utterances and syllables that don’t add up and creativity that won’t rest until its fed…

When you toss and turn a million microfibers of thought and emotion whizzing round and round and blurring your eyes even when they are closed.

And I’m still searching, still hoping that one day, someday, I will bump into happiness

I’ve seen horrors and gore but I’ve seen childish delight and utter joy I’ve seen mothers and babies and skipping ropes and old couples holding hands and I think –that must be happiness…

I used to think that if you smiled all the time, you would be called a happy person they say fake it till you make it so I mastered the art of pretence, the faking part and now my mask is stuck …setting yourself challenges and pushing yourself out of your comfort zone because then life really starts, all the secrets and money that you stole from your mother’s purse. You hide it under your bed and hide it under your heart and   in between the red sock and the one that has teddy bears and stars on it.

And when your thoughts are chirping louder that the birds outside your window, your imagination takes off down the road that very pavement that you found yourself on, the doorstep.

The doorstep where you sat for forever and counted cracks and watched ants build their nests. And winter past and the green shoots began to grow and so did you

You grew big; you grew strong and, like a still wet sponge, absorbed the pollution of the world and delusion of its people,

People, like monsters in the fairy tale and Darth Vader attempts at humanizing things that are NOT HUMAN and trying to make sense of things that don’t make any sense at all.  But nothing, nothing talks louder than silence

And so while I’m still roaming the streets in search of a wonder cure for world peace, I might just chance upon happiness and find out that it was there all the time; I was just looking in the wrong place.

Nine Lives

 

Nine Lives

The more I struggle, the more I strive

I keep moving on keep coming back alive

like a cat with nine lives im up to number 8
what will I do if the ninth comes too late?
The more I search, the less I find
Can’t really see with this broken mind
Will all my fears and dreams dissipate?
or has my bad luck sealed my fate?
Some say there’s no such thing as luck
Good luck, bad luck, any luck at all
They say you gotta pray, everyday, (that) someday
You’ll be saved from eternal death
You gotta know where to go high or low take a blow
but I say save your breath
Coz I don’t believe but maybe I should
If im gonna believe it better be good
if everyone is doing it does it mean it’s right?
Can you tell me how you sleep well at night?
What struggle is to you is different to me
Big or small whatever we see
Cant explain the pain again too ashamed im to blame for
struggle has two g’s
One for goodness and one for greatness
You don’t see it while you’re in it and even  years later
You’ll never know the reason, the person  or the hater
If you tell me again that everything is for the best
I might just  punch you right there in the chest
No you don’t get to knock me when i’m way down
Yo, just pull me up off the blunderground
Its funny how I keep on coming right back
I think with my heart (and) its off the beaten track
But now
Its my time
The ninth…

Self Harm

I bit my lip and now its bleeding

I try to stop the tears

I bang my chest to feel the feeling

of pent-up rage and fear

I ran out onto the street today

hoping a car would knock me

break my bones and give me pain

Coz nothing else will shock me

I put my fist through panelled glass

watch a cherry red river flow

and from the distance (saw) moments pass

like buttercups in the snow

I overturned my shopping cart

right in the middle of the store

Had a full-blown tantrum there and then

down on the dirt filled floor

I keep a knife under my sheets

to make me feel safe

If a rapist comes whilst I’m asleep,

it would slash him in his face

My bed is full of sharpened spikes

My carpets made of lego

Clothing hangs from electric pikes

hollow dreams they echo

I scrape my nails along black bricked walls

and bruise my tarnished hands

I skip the steps hoping to fall

onto concrete covered land

My heart once full of love and peace

now split right at the seams

yanked right out of its shadowed socket

Will nothing stop the bleed?

Guilt stretches its damning spikes

Shooting arrows  in its wake

Patience longs but defiance storms

Through every bolted gate

Emotions stronger than physical pain

I pinch my bruising skin

Will I ever awake from this sodden slumber

and let reality kick in?

 

 

 

Enough

I submitted this poem for a number of competitions but I never received any feedback from it…

Enough

It was never enough.

Never hard enough, loud enough, bright enough.

She couldn’t keep up.

Demands on her tiny brain, so small, so… fragile.

‘Faster, faster,’ screamed the Voice,

‘Faster or you’ll be dead. ‘

Crazy thunder, dancing in her head

She clawed for breath.

Running blindly through the frightening fog of fear

Her miniature peepholes tightly shut

Dizzying explosions of light.

Pull, push, pull, push

Tasting terror

Don’t stop now. Focus.

Up, down, up down.

You can do it, yes you can you can you can.

Whizzing,

Through pin pricks of hot glass

Go to your happy place

Blue roses and oceans and fairies and ice cream with coloured sprinkles…

She came up for air.

“Next time,” The She-Voice spat,

“You’ll do better next time.”

……………dk………………

Boomerang

It follows me around, this abuse thing…

Like a persistent toddler clinging to my legs and screaming… look, listen, hear… I am. Here.

And whoever said, ‘Children should be seen and not heard’, didn’t take into account that one day the child would grow up and become their worst enemy…

Because when you silence an innocent, you might silence their present but never their future…

If you don’t kill them off first with your venomous poison, they will come. They will come back with full Darth Vader force and chop your ideas and fantasies into tiny little crumbs of nothingness                                                                                                                    They will come back like a boomerang; with all the menace you put into shooting that plastic sword… right into their miniature hearts and hopes and dreams.

They will come back.

And you will feel so small, so low, so ashamed. So much like you made those innocents feel all those years ago when                                                                                                   you thought you had silenced them                                                                                                                                                  Forever.

……….dk………

Again


I need to tell you something

But I am scared

Afraid that you will judge me

Or laugh at me

And

Not accept me.

I am scared

Afraid that I will judge me

Or laugh at me

And

Not accept me.

So I will hide it

Keep it to myself

From myself

Squash it down deep down

Bury it

Pretend

Make believe that it doesn’t exist.

But ,

It comes to haunt me

Jack in the box

It springs up again

And

Again.

I need to tell you something

But I need to not be scared

Or afraid

Of being judged

Mocked

Rejected

Again.

……….dk………

Survivors Mask

Has some song potential methinks… !

I look up and I see
A beautiful house in the countryside
Flowers adorn the door
Rose bushes lined up outside

A fresh coat of paint, white like snow
Gleaming windows reflecting light
But what I cannot see
Is what is hidden inside

I turn the handle carefully
Hopeful as I step inside
My face shows curiosity
My eyes open wide

I see a row of children with identical faces
Rosy cheeks and bright blue eyes
I wonder at the similarity
When suddenly I realize,

They are in disguise

It is only a mask
A cleverly painted mask
And when I lift them off their faces for a while,
I do not even have to ask

Their fragile souls have been destroyed
Their tiny hearts been torn apart
Hurt beyond belief
Withering in their grief

The bitterness in their eyes
Questions: Why? Why?
Why do we have to suffer
In the hands of wicked lies

—- ——- ——– —— ——-

We are the children
Who are hurt and in pain
Our masks stuck on tightly
Hiding our shame

They entered our bodies, our spirit, our mind
But they cant take away our courage to fight
‘Coz we are all survivors playing the same game
We will unite our strength will remain

For years we covered up
Our sorrow and our pain
But now we shout out to the world:
NEVER will abuse be tolerated again!

The Lucky One

Changing channels in my head

I’m tuning out

need a distraction

just a fraction

of peace?

It smells of antiseptic

locked doors slamming shut and

the tip tapping of heels on a shiny floor.

papers always papers

plastic gloves and hand sanitizers

jingle jingle the keys are coming,

the ones with name tags and loud voices and power and command

They strut.

Here I sit, head between my knees. Go…

go away, I’m busy now

busy distracting

My bones are heavy like a deadweight

the burden on a camels back

I sigh into the future, beyond the bolted doors

but

I am the lucky one…

I get up and walk away.

…doorstepkid.

Acceptance

I am who I am

You cant change me

Only I can.

 

You are who you are

I cannot change you

only you can.

 

Let me speak freely

Let me sing

Let me be heard, be seen, be known

let me in…

and

I will listen

I will understand

I will love you, respect you, know you

I will always hold your hand.

 

and I hope

that you will do the same.