Poems about The Voice for Others

When I feel the need to be alone,
Turn off the lights,
Turn off the phone...
No outside noise will penetrate,
I'll sit here and I'll meditate,
Alone in the dark is quite appealing,
Staring at a moonlit ceiling..
Confusing thoughts and unsure feelings,
Unknown desires begin revealing...
The thoughts they enter one by one,
Soon they are a jumbled mess,
It's been days since I've felt the sun,
So surely I digress,
Into a world of day and night,
As I begin to miss the light,
I open up my eyes and heart
I feel refreshed as I re-start...,

Child molester, arrested.
Pleads guilty, gets two years on probation.
Years later, caught again.
Another plea bargain, segregated unit, daily group therapy, TV in cell.
Ten years, out in five.
Third conviction, short sentence, released.
What madness is this?
Five decades of violating women and children.
Ex-wife and victims suicided.
Maybe more?
Perp lives comfortably in the suburbs.

Daughter is the same age as the dead mother now.
She could kill him.
Charged with murder, if she uses a weapon
Manslaughter with diminished responsibility, maybe
Ten years max, out in five; it’s worth it.
Less if she kills him with her bare hands
Less again if she calls an ambulance.
Provocation is her defense.
Failed by the system, the psych report might say.
Driven by intolerable grief and menopausal rage.
A favorable jury might acquit her.
Victims taking matters into their own hands?
Women fighting back?
We must make an example of her.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Silence is a form of compliance.
Truth is, I’m no killer.
Clinging obediently to a broken system
My weakness repulses me.
Stop the torment.
It’s either him or me.
He wins again.
They always do

I am a good girl.
I’ll do whatever he says.
Any attention is better than none.
He knew that, didn't he?

Do I want to hold it while he pisses?
As if asking gives me a choice.

Of course, I’ll say yes.
I’m a good girl; please love me.

Is that how he elicits compliance and silence?
Was I so easy?
Or did he make threats?

Daddy smell, big cock, cut
Flannel nightie, hold your breath, and pretend to sleep.

Soul-murdered and vampire-bitten.
Precocious, they called me;
attention-seeking provocateur, little love sucker.

What monstrous evil,
a baby succubus, eternally damned.
Daddy’s little whore.

What’s this?
An email from my father?
He must have died then.
Has the day finally arrived?
Is he...dead?
Cunning 'ham.
STOP! THINK!
Dead men don’t email.

I had given it to him.
Years ago
What else could I do?
It shouldn’t be like this.
I shouldn’t have to.
Do I open it?
What does he want?
I’m hooked, flapping around,
Gasping for breath like a fish flayed.

Can’t you just forgive him before he dies?
We mustn’t speak ill of the dead.
Let it go, just move on.
It's all in the past.
I have that right, at least.
Don’t I?
To know when my rapist daddy dies.

My ancestors suck their teeth.
As I click open the email.

He’s not dead or dying.
He’s found God and weaponises forgiveness.
Him.
The predator.
Me.
His prey

I’m tired.
Leave me by the hospital doors,
No looking back.
Avoid my eyes,
Don’t hear my pain.

No more need to measure my worth with your measuring cups.
Give back my love before you go,
Should I try to build it again.

I’m tired,
My Dragon Lady, burning it all down.
Nowhere to anchor
So much haze

She’s so small,
She doesn’t know where to go, what to do.
Wishes she didn’t survive
This life not worth living

She can’t feel with half a heart,
Or navigate your rules.
Don’t take the chance,
She’s not safe for you.

Cover her eyes
Shut her mouth
Plug your ears
She can’t run with numb legs
Her cries won’t stop
Leave it all at the hospital doors

Save yourself
Wash your hands
Take your broken heart.

Come join me,
In the dark.
I’ll make room for you,
Wake up your body,
Open your heart.
I’ll swallow your pain,
The poison I deserve.
It can’t kill me,
I am already dead.

A Crack Appears

I am all armoured up

Keeping in check, taking my stance
defenses in place, doing my dance
I am all armoured up

Facing forward, controlling the chills
sensitivities heightened, sharpening my skills
I am all armoured up

As the cries get louder, the bars grow taller
deafening shrills, sharpening my skills
I am all armoured up

Breaking free, merely a dream
on high alert, my insides scream
Covering my tracks, polishing my rackets
the boxes stay shut, covering my casket
I am all armoured up

Never giving up,
today is the day the crack appears

Duplex III: Be Quiet

Be quiet; the voice doesn’t belong here,
Only the body turned into piñata.

Your body made into a piñata.
Boys swing their sticks, breaking things not theirs.

Boys hit you with their sticks, breaking things not theirs.
Innocence falls, swallowed up by night.

Fallen innocence, swallowed by night.
Candy wrappers are clothes, no room for names.

Candy wrappers for clothes. Who cares about names?
Boys gnaw on silent sugary screams.

Boys’ teeth dig into sugary screams.
Confectionery prey, looking for sound.

Confectionery, pray, can’t find sound,
Only the body turned into piñata.

Copyright ©️ 2024

Please don't turn out the light, don't let the darkness fall,
For then I'll hear his footsteps treading down the hall.
Please don't turn out the light, I want to wait awhile,
For he is oh so big and strong
And I am just a child.
Please don't turn out the light,I'm not ready for the pain,
I think I hear his footsteps
Yes, here he comes again.
Please don't turn out the light, just wait and let me sleep
Amongst the stars where I'll ask God "I pray my soul to keep."

A constant dark cloud looms over my head.

Everyone tells me to forgive and forget. How do I do that when my childhood and innocence were stolen from me? I become an adult before I was able to be a child.

I cry but no tears.
I am in pain though no ones notices.

Alone all the time in my mind.

Once the abuse happened, the secret followed me like a dark shadow.

I go through the motions of life. What an unhappy and angry existence like being trapped down among the dead men in that dark deep hole.

Arises a twinkle of light.
Come down light in the night.
What’s it like in the light?

When all I do is walk in the rain.
Cold and lonely.
Wasted days.
Wasted years.
It really feels like hell.

Done my time in hell!
Done my time feeling out of place.
The walls are coming down.
My awakening beckons to me.
With help, my journey from the darkness begins.
It won’t be easy, but better than it was.

Robert McDonald, Uxbridge Canada