My Love Is A Dream
(Jan 2015)

Delicious night,
Silent song,
The only Where
I get to be with you,
But I’d wait forever…
(Forever is taking too long!)
When I sleep, my mind
Makes its own pictures –
Pictures of us dancing,
Making love, Romancing;
Walking in the rain together,
Having a blether
I always wake up to find you gone
You stroll back once the sun has shone.
Delicious night,
Silent song,
I’ll see you when I sleep,
Let day become night
Put the sun to bed;
Let me live in my dreams instead.

(March 2015)

Here we are at our ripe old age
(seeing each other for the first time since we were young enough to appreciate it!)
Our seeds have been sown,
Our flowers grown;
So here we are:
Remember this, and that, her, him, them and us?
Remember how in love we were; and how we gave that up?
So many years apart have passed;
All that time between us, unmapped.
Now here we are – Aging stars,
Waiting to be recycled by the Universe.
I never thought we’d see each other again –
How we’ve changed!
Let’s go back and be careless again!
A coffee, a tea, some sugar; a catch-up,
A walking cane, a woolly scarf…
Your arm to hold onto – a gentleman still!
Our hair all white, our faces cracked,
Talking for hours, the memories come back.
All the years spent apart –
They never once changed our hearts.

A Hello (May 2015)

Infinity eyes,
Like night skies
Shining in the dark
(I feel my heart ignite,
My skin aflame,
I whisper your name;
The streetlight flickers,
My heart beats quicker)
Looking at me through that pinstripe rain
Killing me a little with want again,
As you embrace me, soaked to the skin;
Forgetting the road we’re standing in –
At last here we are again!
We say hello with no words,
No sound passed your lips, but I heard
When your hand slid around my waist
I fell into you so…
Pulled you closer with haste.
Pepper red lips kiss,
Sweet and bright,
A fiery taste
Tingles two bodies over
Sending firecrackers through every vein,
Fingers hungry for touch,
To make a bridge between bodies:
Travelling want through embrace,
Warm breath on neck: trace.
Our denied passion is the Greatest Pain,
Oh Lord!
I’ve fallen in love again.

I Aionia Agape – The Eternal Love
(May 2015)

What is between us
Apart from the pregnant silence of lovers,
Terrified by the power of speech –
The prospect of sound,
And the agonizing complusion to reach out,
To pull each other in
And bind our limbs, our hearts,
Our fingertips, and toes,
Breathing to drink
Each other’s souls deep within.
But there’s an abyss between us,
Where Unknown is building a treacherous bridge
With Charybdis below
And the Violent Air trying to pull us down,
To suffocate us in sea water.
Her jealousy is nauseating.
Do we persevere?
All it takes is one of us
To open the floodgate
And we’ll drown in emotion,
Be washed in the scent of each other,
Become one as our bodies attempt to merge
Via clashing hips,
So I can reach out with decorated fingers
For a love that transcends the Gods,
Entering the Realm of Eternity.
What is between us
Apart from the pregnant silence and the
Trepidation of Possibility,
Intensification of If;
We fear the inescapable:
To take a leap of faith
Or to die for never trying;
And we will die anyway…
At least this way we are together.
Let’s take our love away from Time,
Deny the world,
Be lost in a kiss,
And drown in each other,
Instead of Cherophobia.

I Can’t Convey
July 2015

….The title of this poem is written in another alphabet, and therefore I have renamed it for the purpose of publication.
I can’t convery your worth in words
Nor your soul in a brief synopsis
But I dream of them in the infinity of my own being
Where the Endlessnesses of Us collide
Spiralling together – a unique code of silent screaming
Streaming through the air on paper planes
Destroying our parallel universe selves like a mirror smashing
Creating a world of perfect chaos
Where all our broken pieces mended
Are hidden and fixed as if by magic!
Our hands touch and bleed into the vessels of each other
Filled to the brim with two galaxies of stars –
Joined in flesh and bone inside our own private nebula
Thundering around us as Existence rivets us together
Without our pains, what would life be?
I can’t convery your worth in words
Nor your soul in soliloquy
But I can carry them with me
Trying to contain some measure of your essence
It feels futile to capture you
But I want to trap this feeling –
To bathe in you every day…
Until my last breath carries my soul away.

The Negatives
(July 2015)

In all my days I’ve lived, an old woman
Carrying the world on my back
Never living on being a Self
Letting my dreams fall assunder
Covering youth in self-blame
Hiding love with mindless blunders
And in moments of darkness I’ve wanted to die –
Safe my pathetic self from wishing
For a tomorrow that never comes,
A past that never occurred
Never fully comprehending,
Compassion from others
Or their tears at my cruel despares.
I’m sorry I was never smart enough
To be left alone.
I’m an explosion
At the touch of a button
A “jump now – ask later!” sonofabitch
Full of “Fuck you’s” and regret
Wanting the wind to carry me
Wherever it pleases
To remove choice and blame
Too many lives have been touched by my shame.
And I live falling.

Meeting God
(August 2015)

Open your eyes
See the world in 10,000,000 colours!
In your throat is all Infinity…
Through your fingertips
The world dances:
Millions – billions of puppets on strings!
…And I,
Your little creation,
With eyes of fire
And a burning strench of death,
Am left to despair,
To weep in  greyscale
Because to me, your many miracles
Are not so.
If I were a holy girl
I’d pray for destruction.
Instead I hope,
…I hope I’ll fade out
Into an array of colour,
Leaving behind the world of black and white.
A demon is not meant for beauty –
The outer shell of a muse to trick,
For inside I’m twisted.
Broken and sharp.
The bright miracles are not for me
I’m no puppet
I am strung on my own noose
Set to choke myself to death
I dance on burning toes,
Inside cursed shoes.
I sing spitting flames,
On the ceiling of my mind
– Carved in bone –
Are the many names:
Names of places, people, dreams,
Lost to nothing,
Only God knows…
Open your eyes,
See as I grow spectrum wings,
Illusion things.
Watch as I die and beome
The endlessness inside his throat,
I am only fireworks,
And I am relived to find peace.

All I Know
(September 2015)

In my silence
I am screaming
Because I long to say
What cannot be announced.
The fact of pure love is suffering.
And suffering we share.
A golder era of ours:
A night of holy bliss
Tying our Will
To our Being;
To be a story for tomorrow.
A journey of denying truth,
A voyage that will lead to
Understanding of how valued
The other is.
In my silence
I am screaming
For justice of a chemical reaction
For a truth of biological magnetic expression –
A denial of what is
Has been an era long enough.
I scream until my throat is raw
And the blood rushes to my cheeks,
And I go blind to the world and its crimes.
For when I’m empowered by unbridled passion,
I feel completely
The truth of us.
A sinner I am,
Damned in my time
To be imprisioned
Until I go to sleep:
Falling into your arms
Is liberty.
Confined to words, memories,
Our distant thoughts, ideas and wishes
(Bereft of dust and dirty dishes)
I await he day where we lie
In a field of wildflowers…
For in life I’ll be no Duchess,
But in love I shall be a Queen.
It can’t be that our lives fused for a moment:
A candle blown out?
No, I think not.
Our flame is Vestal –
Kept alive because we are both
Burning with promise.
This fire feeds us
Burning our hearts,
Melting our skin together.
If to have you for only a moment
Means to be in agony for a lifetime –
Then break every bone in my body,
Shred my flesh from me…
I weep for our promises,
I despair for our possibilities,
Because I would have them be all I know.
My freedom:
A light in the dark
A saviour from my own evils.
Make me smile for the chances,
Let me laugh at the time of deliverance,
My Prince of Dreams.

(November 2015)

Oh destroyer of souls
You ripped out my heart
And fed me my bones
Stole, even, my uterus
And the words were silenced
As you heard them;
Scratched out my mouth’
And tore out my tongue
Letting me bleed dry of care
As my thoughts spilled freely out.
Oh destroyer of souls
You’ve broken me down
Taken everything that I could have been
You want to own me –
You don’t know me;
I may be dying but I will never be yours!
Destroyer of souls
You take take take,
Sucking the life away
So I live in pain
Trying to reach someone
Who can understand,
Hoping to be held
And fearing them.
All my body broken
Smashed and battered
My chipped limbs
And ripped hair
I can’t take any more,
But not once have I screamed
And my silence spurs you on.
I let a river of pain
Wash away all my wrongs
To make me pure in your eyes:
Punished for loving and longing for more.

This Is Not EZ.
(November 2015)

I said I loved him once
And many times more;
And in his silent way
With his eyes of ice,
His pulse that hardly fluttered,
Words he barely uttered;
Resent took me
All backward forward.
You wanted me to be yours,
I wanted you to be mine,
Once upon a time.
Our whatever it was
Our constant disarray
Pulling each other in
Pushing each other away;
I’ll always love the boy in you
But like that helicopter seed,
Into a tree you grew…
Once upon a time.

(November 2015)

I seem to make tea just to watch it grow cold,
to write about love and the lines are old,
I seem to find myself lost in the world.
I want to be somebody else.
I seem to be a little girl in the shadow of a mighty man,
to see all the impossible things I don’t understand.
I seem to blunder over the possibilities I have.
I want to be somebody else.
I seem to have made many mistakes,
to have a heart of fragile glass that constantly breaks.
I seem to be a hopeless fucking mess.
I want to be somebody else.

Dear Moon
(December 2015)

I look up to the moon
All distant and blue
Beaming her elegance back down,
Lighting up my eyes,
Illuminating Earth;
Allowing all who look at her
Some inner peace…
She lies among the stars at rest,
Painted on the sky
Circling our little home
All through the night.
Our moon,
Our motherly satellite,
She raises tides,
She defines our time,
Our glowing Goddess
So divine.
I honour her beauty ethereal.

(January 2016)

Bon soir mon papa,
I shall leave you to your drink –
This evil poison that fills you.
Do you even have blood any more?
Bon soir mon papa,
Fall asleep outside
Under a bush in the garden
With your limbs all bent and twisted.
Bon soir mon papa,
You’re drunk and philosophical;
Who was Job?
Job was a metaphorical you.
Let’s listen to Beethoven – “I’ll play the stick!”
…Your warm brown eyes are somewhere else –
Lost in endless sorrow, and fleeting moments of joy.
Bon soir mon papa,
Mon homme tres doux.
Drown out the pain
Forget your girls
And dream of somewhere else.
A different life,
Nobody but you and your beautiful wife.
Bon soir mon papa – dare to dream.
Your death was all the agony of your life
In a moment.
I love you still.
Bien dormir.

(April 2016)

A choking nausea I feel in my throat
Every time I suddenly recollect
A happy moment long ago
That I can’t seem to reject.
Sepia snapshot memory-photo
A lingering feeling that refuses to go.
A timid terror induces explosive silent panic.
I hate you – I love you!
I’m a depressive manic;
Yo-yo, yo-yo, come and play too.
To you, all I am is just a game.
It was never love – sonofabitch bastard!
No guilt for you, you took away my name
Fragmented flesh memory; I was absolutely plastered.

Talk About It
(April 2016)

They want me to talk
Because talking is good
It gets it all out
Like no medication could.
But I choke on my words
I feel guilty and cry
They pass the tissues over
I hate their pity and that’s no lie.
Depression, mania, anxieties
Bi-polar, PTSD’s,
It’s no bother, pop a few pills
Imipramine, prozac, vallies…
Swallow them down – forget your ills.
It’s no way to live, fighting ‘the dog’
Gnarling, growling, clawing,
You want to disappear
Into a cloud of fog.
Taking small pleasures
In other peoples’ smiles
Makes some of the darkness
Seem almost worthwhile…
But every time I pick myself up
I know next time I fall
Could be harder than last
So, filled with doubt (necessary caution) – I fall
My emotions.
I close
I keep my mouth shut
I’m no performing clown,
Here to dance, tumble and strut!
‘Spose it’s trust issues
That make me so quiet
When my mind’s a bloody battlefield
And my heart’s a stormy riot.
I scare myself sometimes
My body stabs me awake
From my dreams of desperate strangulation
And terrified silent rapes.
A mind of horrors and guilt
And fear
Why would I talk?
No-one wants to enter here.
There should be Danger signs
And Hazzard tape strung;
‘Stay Out’, ‘Warning’
But what have I done?
I’ve locked out the Help
I’ve chained up my tongue.
The anger and sadness don’t go away.
They’re Constant Companions; here to stay.
Keeping you locked in solitary another day.

(July 2016)

This poem was written after my sister gave me some advice, I can’t remember her words… But I thought the best way to express these feelings would be to write them down, and for her encouragement, I thank her, because it has allowed me to spit something out. I really hope that this doesn’t come across as a hateful piece of writing. It’s not intended to be…. It took me months to write it, and having recently read it aloud without breaking into tears, I felt a need to share it with fellow mental, domestic and sexual abuse survivors. Just to be clear this is about nobody specific, it is a gathering of feelings more than anything else, something that came out of trauma. I highly recommend getting a cup of tea, or some chocolate before reading this – some comforts will be necessary. It’s intense.

Dear Violetta
Trough of the masters of the universe
Landfill of sex-mad swine
Prison, punishment, curse,
For sex has been all of these things combined.
Once, like the old cliché goes:
an innocent, pure, unbroken rose,
free of these fleshly concerns,
fearing sex for the pain;
not ready to give, but giving in –
It had to happen someday,
I suppose
So I close my eyes
And turn up my nose
And such it was that I was young,
With no “no”‘s strong enough to escape my tongue.
Once, the sweet illusion of naive love –
When love is not love but a meagre momentary infatuation –
The burn of youthful lust;
This must be what men want:
Sex is their love, and that’s how to love them,
By giving in to their wants…
“No”‘s fall on inevitably deaf ears –
‘Oh but it’ll be fun, come on, you’ll enjoy it, I promise.’
Promises are empty when a prick is swollen!
So I switch off, become someone else.
Wishing I wasn’t here.
It’s not even happening.
Where are my clothes?
You’re not right for me and I want to go home!
Your prick is not pleasing,
Note no change in my breathing,
I am thinking of the kettle.
I need a cup of tea.
‘Three sugars for shock’, Gran always said to me.
I am somewhere else – lost to this situation
of mindless thrashing
but all that exists is the Now of your insidious bashing.
Eyes wild like a racehorse reaching the finish line –
pitifully foaming at the mouth and incapable of thought,
with the rush, the buck, the final fall –
with the ‘uuuggh’ of your mating call.
Meanwhile I’m wishing for someone to make it stop.
I do not want you inside me
Taking more of who I am
I’d rather be myself: pure once, untouched, untamed.
But your selfish kind took their claim…
Now you’re done with me:
The five minutes are up
You’re smiling sleepy now and don’t give a fuck!
It doesn’t feel like love when you refuse to be close,
I am a little girl inside, or a little ghost.
Disconnected and numb
Now covered in cum
and want to be disinfected,
drown in a bath of rum.
Tears roll
breakup my makeup
in their toll.
Hell hath no fury like a man possessed
Intent to expel their little mess
To feel more a man in their loins’ explosion
As I distract from my inner  erosion.
Sex is a war,
against a wall
a battering ram of persistence
attacking a small fortress –
So well done you,
Conqueror of this hidden cave –
You, Master of mindless thrusting
Never was a man worth trusting
Oh you – warlord of ranking
Here’s an idea:
Stick to wanking
and leave my mind at rest
my body my own
I gave birth from this place
I felt more a womb(an) then than ever
Filled with life and love
Swollen huge and heavy with purpose
From this home we all come,
But I, a womban. Placeless.
My thoughts and feelings about it irrelevant to any man with
A throbbing ache to end, when their hands are not good enough.
Spare me the hassle and meet Pam instead!
I have other things to do.
I do not have time for pleasing you.
I pity the weakness of these types of men,
It all comes down to flesh for them,
love is sex and not much more.
Born unto the world as kings
A rod of power I deplore
Spare me, I implore!
Their egos surpassing their measure
Entitled to and expectant in sexual treasure:
to fill a female and go to sleep spent.
I want so much to be a woman in pleasure
But no thankyou.
Are any loves real?
Dare a man beyond his prick feel?
Dear Violetta
I hate you.
You are the epicentre of all wrongs
The victory place a man dreams to enter
I wish I could close you forever:
A door that should never have been unlocked
So much Taking!
I can’t clear out my head.
Not even with a night of tears.
Your little baton of glory trying
to fence me into some plateau of ecstasy
stabbing bluntly
unsure if it’s working
So much magnificence in this appendage!
And you don’t notice…I’m not there,
I am numb to your groans
and my encouraging moans,
you can leave me purple
Pressured larynx bruised and painful.
These silent sufferings I have allowed.
My sins are yours also.
Almost always I hear the voice of William
Ringing in my ears:
Whore, slut, tramp, tart, cock tease…
I choke back tears so you don’t ask.
My duration thoughts:
it’s dirty, wrong, shouldn’t be – Get Out Of Me!
Dreams that choke,
Panic gropes and no words come.
My lust for happiness is not the filth of this
Put me behind fabric
Sew me shut
Keep me from these dithering stick baubles
And their sacks of juice
Dangling like eggs in a gremlin pouch
Keep your semen
I’ll keep myself!
I felt as a woman, and let myself be loved completely
All I ever wanted it to be
Not a mark of ownership
Nor a sordid taking
Neither a shameful sin or wrongful baiting.
A beautiful tango of intense love making.
I am a little girl inside.
Love is holding hands,
and being cradled in bigger arms,
a kiss at bedtime,
Praising words for childish scribbles,
being told it’s alright when you fall.
And it’s gone when men begin to look at you.
Lecherous too, like a hunter stalking prey.
Like a deer, a girl either darts or freezes.
I would rather be a child,
Free of being prey to lusty pricks and eyes and hands.
Violetta, ventriloquist.
Miming the words on behalf of my own gender
(because I can’t find the power to shout)
because all a womban is to them
is a puppet to manipulate
a pawn in chess – easily lost:
a toy, a game, a joke to play,
for bragging rights the next day.
Violetta – you lock me up – you speak
And I never asked you to.
A womban: slave to the organ of my name
Every prick a weapon to wound
In their eyes, this trajectory of false promise
Where the word ‘love’ is a lure
With arbitrary lies and tenderness
To get off your clothes
With hungry claws
Your hot liquor love-premise breathing in waves
from your sickly sweet jaws
because men are obvious, simple and crude
blunt and blundering , rude.
Whose objective is to hook up, fuck and leave.
Go ahead – tell the truth and shame your false gods
your idols of vicious primal nature
These circumstantial expressions make me want to die.
Your member a lance, a spear, a rapier
Instinct is your religion
your rites a taking,
fuck, fuck – you’d fuck every minute!
Semen – theif of who I am!
Scrub clean and lie with patience no more,
for when the five minutes are up
you are done with me and your so-called love
There is the blank space your prick was in
I am disconnected and numb
But you have not pierced my heart
I take solace in that.

Love The Lie
(March 2017)

Love the lie
You want to be wanted
To be held and seen,
But there is no love
In this world they created
So don’t you dare try
To reach my heart
In this struggle you’ll find me
Emotionally sedated
My love is a crime
Heart incarcerated
All vulnerable feelings hated.
Love the lie
Or lie in love
In this world of disassociated cries
From the Shadows of Selfish
We long to be longed for
From the falsehood of fuckery
We yearn for flesh and such
Liquid treasure
Our souls enraged
Our skin growing old
No beauty beyond measure
When the mind is engaged.
Love the lie my dear
We are all slowly dying here
In this Wilderness of Solitude
This Theatre of Being
Hidden behind our mask and hood:
Our ‘World Face’…
Cherish the words,
The naked truth,
The proof in everything we do.
Love the lie
This performance of ideals
For in the menagerie is the broken token
Of the crumbling statue we once were

(March 2017)

Your words are louder than rain
And my soul dances in the sea
Looking for one fairy-tale
Whilst denouncing another
Your words are thunder to my ears
Music that echoes with peace
Come with me back to familiar silence
I will show you how to talk with your eyes
To grow in the rain-dropped earth
And shift slowly in circles
As the clouds gather above
Breathe with me and feel it all
Kiss the sounds in the air
What perfumes you can smell!

(June 2017)

Avoid the eyes and stare into nothing
Create a dance of negative space
As you fear to touch
The one you love more
Than you could ever love yourself.
You could be in a crowded room
Across the table at a romantic meal
Fucking in bed or making love
But you disengage
You lose your way
Come find your head
Another day…
Hang myself on your heart strings
Don’t you dare love again
I only had you always
Never though.
See the world go a grey wash
Swallow shadows
And suffocate
On tears
Long-gone years
It’s cold in here
And dark
And damp
We’re all alone
Individual dungeons of thought
All I have is my love
But what is that to him?
This empty shell of dark