For the Children

Do you pray
and pay
for more indecisive truths
that are put away in the night
for little boys to find?

Is there hope
or loss
in the heart we own
for the children who come
with no hands to hold?

Wrongs of the Past

People talk behind walls
down alleys and paths
to ponder about pasts
deviant from rights and wrongs.

In the dark they come
away from obscurity
to rub off immaturity
and find themselves undone.

On train tracks, they escape
the life of the present;
On the way, they repent
And find themselves unforgiven.

Moving Away

Forgetting is the ebbing away of memory. It disintegrates into particles, too small to grasp and they disperse into the atmosphere.


On a train, departing, I don't see you again.


The departure was just that - the departure of you from my life (ironically as it was me who was leaving on the train). I did catch sight of you just before the train turned round the bend but I looked away just before you disappeared.

Speeding through towns and fields and more towns, I spared you one too many thoughts and I wished you had disappeared long before. But I knew I'd eventually forget you as I continued my journey further and further away from you. Before I would know it, I would have travelled further away from you than I ever had - and I can't complain.

It's Raining Out Here

Maybe she'll let me in

Tempered With

I was drawn to the documentary on rape on the telly the other day. It talked about how a girl was lead, naively, into thinking her boyfriend had her best interest in mind before raping her senseless.

I have some empathy...maybe. The documentary droned on about how the girl now lives in a whirlwind of self-hatred, shame and anger and how suicide started mixing in with this unhealthy concoction. There was no mention of the boy, not surprisingly, because he was in jail.

I switched the television off upon realising it was 3am and that I have work the next day. The flat was quiet (I live on my own) - the only sounds were the drip drop of the broken tap I have yet to fix. Apart from that, the silence reminded me that I am alone. I retired to bed shortly after, and set my alarm clock for 6am (it's now 3.15am). One hour later, I was still lying there, eyes wide open. I was thinking about the girl on the telly and how she got herself into that situation, but I was also wondering what was the situation.

I became uncomfortable with that thought and began writhing under the duvet as if in pain; well, I was in pain - emotional pain. I began to see different scenarios in my head: non-consented sex, molestation - maybe alcohol was involved?

I pulled the duvet over my head and tried to stifle out the images in my head. They kept coming back and I hated it.

The alarm rang and I was still under the duvet, hiding - hiding as if someone was out to get me. I was relieved to hear the alarm go because it signalled that real life was starting again and I could now let go of the horrible recurring images in my head and the imagined unpleasant sensations. I turned the alarm off and pulled myself out from under the covers. The day started again and I was so glad it did as I got out of bed and cleared all the nastiness out of myself.

Not Ready to Wake

Dear Love,
I'm asleep.
I've pulled the duvet over my head,
exposing my feet
and fallen asleep.

With the alarm clock unset
and the curtains drawn
I don't plan on getting up
not for awhile, at least.