Category: innocence

#Me Too*

Can’t read
Can’t write
No rest
Hard fight

Can’t hear
Feel fear
All alone
No one there

Big smiles
All day
Great acting
Run away

Feeling pain
Not numb
Silent now
Staying dumb

Giving up
Too much shame
Held inside
Played the game

Being good
No escape
Dirt shows
Child rape

So soft
Weak-willed
Too tough
Justice killed

Can’t see
Don’t tell
Keep quiet
Gone to hell


* #MeToo is a social movement originating among women, advocating for survivors of sexual harassment or violence to speak out about their experiences.


(Image source – Photo by Shamia Casiano: https://www.pexels.com)

Hands Off

Today the sky is black as coal
My mind has crawled inside a hole
He took away my heart and soul
Please, lock him up with no parole

~~~

I was only eight and very shy
And was it any wonder why
I’d never scream; I’d never cry
When after, in your bed, I’d lie

~~~

I didn’t want to play his game
He told me that I was to blame
He left me with the deepest shame
I’d like to tell the world your name

~~~

What he did was so taboo
Tucked away and out of view
Thought you’d get away, did you?
Karma will tell false from true

~~~

This isn’t who I want to be
He stole my innocence; can you see
I couldn’t run; I couldn’t flee
Just get your filthy hands off me.

Pretence

Being honest here and speaking my truth as I always do, I’m not okay today. I don’t feel much like the success I referred to in my last poem. I saw my counsellor this afternoon. She was going to let me know if I could continue to see her as my funding has nearly run out. I’d spoken with the organisation’s manager on Friday, and she assured me she would discuss my case with C. (my counsellor) and that I’d have a decision by this week’s session. As it turned out, the manager hadn’t spoken to C. I expect there’s a good reason for this; however, it doesn’t help my distress and worry at not knowing where I stand. C. told me she wouldn’t be there next week either, so I now have to wait another two weeks before knowing what will happen. I feel lost and alone.

PRETENCE

It’s tough pretending to be okay
when I’m absolutely not
I find myself smiling and chatting away
to stop others sensing the rot

~~~

I’m trying to write my song differently
I’m trying to appear upbeat
There’s far too much for others to hear
if it’s only the pain I excrete  

~~~

If only they knew what the truth was
that I’m shrivelling up inside
so I stay quiet and keep my thoughts to myself
while my innocent inner child died

~~~

I currently stand on a precipice
I’m looking for a safe way to go
I join in the fun with a crowd of friends
not letting all my pain show

~~~

I’m angry inside with that b******
He’s the one who caused all this sh*t
So, why am I carrying the blame in my heart
when I don’t belong in this pit

~~~

He should have been tried in a court
They asked me if I wanted to tell
but I was far too scared of speaking the truth
I’d already been through hell

~~~

If he were alive, I would prosecute
I’d make him stand facing the beak**
I’d tell all of his vile wicked deeds
as now it is my turn to speak.


(** The word ‘beak’ is an English slang word for judge or magistrate)












Brittle

Image taken from my Pinterest posts

I wish I could tell you I was different then
That I was happy, content, just a child
But even in those early growing years
I knew something was brittle
~~~

I wish I could tell you it’s because of a divorce
Or a car crash, a scene, a fight in between
But even when the day dawns, and light filters through
There was too much on my mind
~~~

I wish I could tell you it was society
Put it down to one event, let it be
But there is reason behind me
I am just this way; I was made brittle
~~~

I was brittle before I reached the age of one
Before my first dark, grim nightmares
Before the death of my fragile spirit
I was already brittle in my mother’s belly
~~~

I try to soothe my mind with my music box fairy
Broken promises, dusty, stained wishes
But I am brittle
So take my hand, gently, as I am liable to fracture.

Image source Google Free Images


Whispers to the Soul

“This was me before I knew about anything hard, when my whole life was packed lunches and art projects and spelling quizzes.”

― Nina LaCour, Hold Still


Rage screams out in silenced moments

Beating in her shattered heart

Muted words tell of her truths

Ripped her childhood years apart

~~~

Pain seared through her fragile figure

Like a sword sliced through her gut

Agony cut trenches in

To stop the screams with lips sewn shut

~~~

Innocence is lost in moments

Sins shut from the outside world

There she sits with guilty bruises

In a corner, tightly curled

~~~

She trembled as the torment came

Spoke whispers to her sacred soul

Crying out in stolen voices

Filled the gaping, bleeding hole

~~~

Keeping secrets nearly killed her

Suffocates her choking voice

Trapped and twisted honest truths

Ignoring pain, she had no choice.