I'll drown myself in words and books
In a different dimension
In a different world
Away from this shitty reality
I'll have peace in the words that I'll read
Covering it with beautiful phrases
Sentences
Paragraphs
Chapters
And I thank you, dear writer
......
one moment im sitting
in a spacious white box of a room
looking at the technicolour sunset melt colours into my heart
the next i am in a stuffy old library
sunlight slanting in from the tall windows
and must staining my lungs
and my chest feels a little tight
my breath feels a little shaky
as everything i have never said aloud
crowds my mind
......
Sometimes I scream,
And imagine the world,
Explodes in time,
With the expulsion of my voice.
Shearing through the ground,
Ripping trees from the soil,
And splitting mountains,
Until all that is left is powdered remains.
Then I lay splayed out onto my destruction,
......
From the time when we were first held in their arms to times where we were showered in hugs and kisses,
Moments where we held onto their finger for our first tiny steps, till the scream of excitement when we called out their name.
They were there for all our birthdays and when we fell off our bicycles and couldn’t stop crying.
When we got sick they’d stay up till 4 in the morning so we felt safe and oh how could I forget all those monsters under the bed they fought against.
They slept next to us when we had nightmares and read us bed time stories, or some from when they themselves were our age.
They sent us to an expensive private school and bought books and pens that we liked.
Lessons for the future, laughs and giggles while playing house or attending little tea parties wearing the earrings we made.
They taught us all those nursery rhymes, how to swim and more, the way to our house and their phone numbers if we needed it any more.
For emergencies they said, now it’s stuck in my head but the number isn’t valid.
......
How careful is the craft of conscience?
Which wields the sword of sorry,
That strikes the heels of discord,
And visits the home of the elusive.
Healing the rifts of former days
Respect is now paid,
As healing is sought
And time is bought.
Now, a conscience at ease
Grudges now cease.
......
Do I serve as a mirror to your true self?
Glowing and flourishing
in plain sight
all this you will fail to admire
too captivated by your own reflection,
which you so wrongfully envision
sutured to my face
Is it why you still treat this like a game?
......
From the time when we were first held in their arms to times where we were showered in hugs and kisses,
Moments where we held onto their finger for our first tiny steps, till the scream of excitement when we called out their name.
They were there for all our birthdays and when we fell off our bicycles and couldn’t stop crying.
When we got sick they’d stay up till 4 in the morning so we felt safe and oh how could I forget all those monsters under the bed they fought against.
They slept next to us when we had nightmares and read us bed time stories, or some from when they themselves were our age.
They sent us to an expensive private school and bought books and pens that we liked.
Lessons for the future, laughs and giggles while playing house or attending little tea parties wearing the earrings we made.
They taught us all those nursery rhymes, how to swim and more, the way to our house and their phone numbers if we needed it any more.
For emergencies they said, now it’s stuck in my head but the number isn’t valid.
......
Sometimes I scream,
And imagine the world,
Explodes in time,
With the expulsion of my voice.
Shearing through the ground,
Ripping trees from the soil,
And splitting mountains,
Until all that is left is powdered remains.
Then I lay splayed out onto my destruction,
......
From womb to tomb I am condemned to be
completely blind and unable to see.
I have never, ever seen the light of day
and have to use a stick to find my way.
Never to see the glory of the setting sun,
or to gaze into the eyes of anyone.
Blind, I entered into this earthly scene.
Blind, I shall depart, never to have seen.
......
I see you crying and feel the pain of your tears,
the sorrow and anguish over so many years.
Such senseless abuse and wanton ill treatment
of someone so young and so innocent!
Oh child of my past and source of my tears
ever with me throughout all of my years.
Bearer of memories so harmful and unkind
buried deep in the recesses of my mind.
......