March 15, 2012
Just a little poem of sorts, written as my own thoughts to the #ididnotreport hashtag and tweets that flooded twitter a few days ago. Some incredibly brave tweeters, and a beautiful (but incredibly sad) thing to see so many people finding a voice.
My own response is about being abused as a child, teenager, and then as an adult in an event that was totally seperate to any of the stuff i’d experienced as a young person.
(its probably not the most poetically grammatically correct btw)
so here we are, my little poem
#ididnotreport because who would have heard?
#ididnotreport because who would believe?
#ididnotreport because i could not utter a single word …
#ididnotreport because it meant more punishment i’d receive.
#ididnotreport as I got older, for what would be the reason?
#ididnotreport as things moved on, but the memories remain,
#ididnotreport as years went by, and life moved into a new season,
#ididnotreport as i always felt i deserved the pain.
#ididnotreport because i had nothing left worth trying to save
#ididnotreport because nothing mattered to me any more
#ididnotreport because i could never be that brave
#ididnotreport because even when i tried, someone always closed that door.
#ididnotreport for it had all gone plus more
#ididnotreport for everything i had left was taken
#ididnotreport for I had been shaken to the very core,
#ididnotreport for my whole life had been broken.
#ididnotreport but sometimes I wish I had.
January 8, 2011
The below is a poem I have had on the go for many months now. I keep coming back to it, time and time again, to ‘complete’ and yet, every time I do, or every time inspiration has hit, and I think ooh that be part of that poem, by the time I’ve got to write down the thoughts, they’ve gone. So I have concluded that maybe the poem is meant to be unfinished, and there for complete as it is.
The blink of her eyes, the teardrops fall,
as the tired body crumples up against the wall,
no one and nothing to stand her upright
on to the floor she goes, losing her fight
The feeling is extreme, rushing through her veins,
Never before has she felt such pain,
In the middle of the night, when silence is all around,
Who is there to cry out to?