Global
Poetry
Movement

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

You waited so patiently for me to come and find you.
Truthfully, I ignored you because it hurt too much to feel the pain.
The weight of everything was so heavy.
I didn’t want to go back. I wanted to keep moving forward.
Years later, I found you. Exactly where I left you.
You hid in plain sight, but no one noticed you.
When I saw you from shore, I knew it was you. You recognized me too.
All those years of lifeguard training paid off.
You were always trying to survive.
You knew I’d eventually come back so you just kept treading water.
You smart, wise, strong girl. You figured out how to save yourself.
When our eyes connected you stopped treading.
Then - you stood up and walked towards me. Towards the shore.
The whole time, while you were waiting, you knew you could stand, but you continued to tread water.
You wanted to wait. You waited for me to find you. Right where I left you.
She said, “What took you so long?
She came and wrapped her arms around me and gave me a big, long hug.
She pulled me close and whispered slowly,
“It has taken us a very long time to get this right so listen closely.
I’m ok now. You did the work you needed to do. You are very brave.
I celebrate you every day because you came back. You found me.
I’m standing because of you.
You rewrote our story.
Now go and live”.
And with that she was gone. Leaving behind only her true self.

Only I Can Carry

Only I can carry my cross into the light.
If I falter in the dark, I will strive to carry the weight.
Even a rocky path without my faith, a cross went before me.
The light will be stronger than the weight of my cross.

Even this heavy heart to love again, has hope to bear.
To stay true in faith, love helps to carry the way.
The suffering of an empty past, today will bring light.
Only I can bring this light to someone else.

Only I can ask who will help me start to pray for hope.
When I falter, it is I to await the path before me.
The path will only get brighter and the cross will be lighter.
If I dedicate my life to others, I will carry this light.
Only I, can carry.

Original—A Twig in the Forest
01.10.2023

I am walking through a forest
It is not your typical forest

It is dark and gloomy
Words once said before

I look up, and tall trunks surround my twig body
I am picked up by a branch, then whipped to another
Back and forth I go
No control in reaching for the ground

My eyes are closed
Mouth is shut tight

I do not know what else to do but remain
F R O Z EN
Everything is happening too fast

In a blink of an eye
I am an adult

With no choice
But to walk through the forest all over again

This time
I bring light to it

This time
I shed the fog

Now
I see clearly

—the end

Each day I startle awake, my days undefined,
I’m a prisoner to forces beyond my own mind.

Is my mother angry? Is that today’s norm?
Or is she serene? Will she keep me warm?

Did I receive that text? The one I waited for so long?
Or was I again left waiting, maybe my own judgement was wrong.

The skies decide wether I smile or frown,
gloomy clouds weigh heavy, dragging me down.

Sunshine can lift me but only so high,
light does not shine where my sorrows lie.

My most loved grow weary of the sadness they see,
I wish they could understand how tiring it is to be me.

I wish they could know how much it really takes,
to live in this whirlwind of highs and heartaches.

Their patience wears thin but I’m always aware,
I really try to be happy, I do, I swear.

My feelings are so random, I’m playing a losing game,
but I grow tired of myself so who can I blame?

For them, grief is a passing, a brief rain, a light shower,
but for me, it’s a lifetime of suffering- every minute of every hour.

I was the quiet child with eyes cast down,
hid in the shadows, shrinking small,
while we wore the guise of a family crowned,
and smiled for the world, dressed up and all,
our “perfect life” a brittle wall.

In our home, storms would break and swell—
a father’s voice, a crashing wave,
a mother bending to catch and quell
the pieces left for her to save,
while praying for strength, though none she gave.

We fled our land for a brighter shore,
dreamed of peace and kinder years,
but found old wounds turned raw once more,
as hope gave way to hidden tears—
and no one guessed our smiles hid fears.

A lonely child with secrets kept,
I clutched my silence like a prize,
and walked the path where sorrow slept,
until the past began to rise
and brought me back with sharper eyes.

Now as a mother, I face the night,
where buried memories stir and ache,
and hold my children close and tight,
to guard the love I’ll never break—
their tender hearts, no harm shall take.

Each day, I learn to heal the seams,
to weave new warmth from threads of pain,
unlearning shadows and shattered dreams,
so love may bloom without the stain
of anger’s curse, of bruised refrain.

This journey now is one of grace,
of mending wounds I thought would stay,
for healing is the light I trace,
reclaiming joy along the way—
and finding peace where scars once lay.

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.