I'm made of all;
The books I've ever read
Poems I've ever written
Faces who have smiled at me
Hugs that have wrapped around me
Caresses that have graced my inner thigh
Countries & continents my feet have touched
The lovers as we simultaneously reach ecstasy within
Lonely nights shedding tear drops
Nights gazing black skies moon & stars
Children falling asleep to my heartbeat
Animals whose soul was found through reflective eye stares
Conversations spoken in French, Spanish, Italian, Xhosa, Afrikaans, Norwegian, German
Years of ******-, cognitive-, dialectical-, art-, drama-, music-, mindfulness-, trauma-, psychiatry-; therapies
The drinks & drugs & mind altering substances dispersing my mind
In all I'm made of;
Love
Lust
Greed
Fear
Joy
Freedom
Longing
Dreams
Despair
Sadne­ss
Anger
Frustrations
Happiness
Anxieties
Insecurities....

In all I'm made of;

A soul; securely contained within a body of battled scars;
over;
pain & triumphs, losses & gains, rejections & acceptances, dishonours & accolades...

With the hope; she too, can live life through.

© Sia Jane

9 January 2014   02.21am

"We all have feelings for our girlfriends Bea, it doesn't mean we have to act on them.."

Silence filled the room
Two opposing forces
Love lust passion
Hate anger fear
What was once owned
Has now been taken
Walking towards her
Reaching out, hand movements
So slow and graceful
An aura so compelling, senses heightened
Bodies shifting as though
Magnetic forces were playing
A sultry dance acting out
Underneath the candelabra
Eyes locked mirroring feelings
Left unspoken, razor sharp tongue
Hips graze, music intensifies
An atmosphere fraught with
Tension, favoured to be cut by a knife
Hesitating lips part with a subtle urgency
Circulatory movements dancing feet
A lowly finger fondles an inner thigh
Ever so slightly withering, exuberant pleasure
Eyes connect, glistening from the light
A smile pacifying both women
Others gazes capture their movements
For now, they are the only ones
Whose love and light fills this room
Alone, unhinged, they kiss
At first tentatively, then feverishly
Drowning, they are both saved
The lovers bodies blend into one
Possessing one another
Nothing is lost in that moment
Desperately clinging to affection
Souls freed, emotions making miracles
Two lovers effortlessly become
One soul being.

© Sia Jane

On the first day, he was pushed
robust in his stance, the other forced,
this boy down the spiral staircase
of the Catholic church, the school
had renovated, the Spring before
Isaac had begun his studies,
at the high school.

Ballet was his passion, Latin was the
language that so effortlessly, fluently
was spoken from his lips in class
as he smiled at his Professor, another
victory accomplished in academia
so proud were his parents, of their
blue eyed boy.

Jonah was the reject, the older brother
he had been kicked out of school,
not once, but twice, and was often
found with a joint, his unshaven face
wrapped around one of the girls,
from the all girls school that ran
alongside Isaacs all boys.

Issac was hurt, a further blow to his
stomach, rendered him broken
as a waterfall of tears ran down his
bruised and cut face, so ashamed
as other pupils laughed, staring, pointing
until the final bell rang as they fled from
the high ceilings and narrow corridors.

Wrapped in a ball, he waited for all
halls and students to clear, and as
he rolled over, picking himself up
he took to the washroom, knowing he
needed to be presentable for his mother
waiting for him at the school gate
brimming with pride, at her boys scholarship.

All his dreams, mystical and serene, Romeo and Juliet
fluid streams of poetry of Elliot, Poe, Hughes
and of course Wilde and those love letters of Beethoven
math, biology, all paled into insignificance
he was born a writer, a dancer, a drawer,
sketching and typing his heart to a page,
prose a future love would read.

Johan saw his mother's car pull up
as he raced and giggled with Saskia
leading her astray, he promised her all
the things those boys always did, and of course
not to break her sweet sixteen heart, unlike other boys
as his mother smoked another Camel, the two lovers
jumped into his truck, Johnny Cash blaring from speakers
laughing hysterically, the world at their feet.

By 4pm, Isaac was ready to leave school,
tentatively walking out the main door, down
concrete slabs as steps, no predators in sight
he couldn't hide the dark circles under his eyes
that formed as bruises, knowing he was fortunate
to have not been damaged further
by the haunting before last period.

Walking to the gates, he listened through
headphones; Tchaikovsky
his release
his home
his saving grace.

© Sia Jane

abuse trigger*

In my end is my beginning
-T.S. Eliot-

   I distinctly remember the night I decided to get better. I mean once and for all better. On Monday 19th January 2004, at a few minutes past midnight, here, the real story began. I took a deep breath, trusted my instincts, and let myself go. I let myself taste the other side. I let myself fly freely around my environment. I looked in the mirror, removed the mask, and allowed myself to see my own reflection. And I spoke;
“You will do this. And it will start now.”*
   My mask I wore throughout the endless rapes and sodomizing, were what kept me alive, kept me breathing. Each day and week passed, each morning I would rise, fixate the mask, and go on. Until I no longer could go on in that way. The crash ended before it had even begun. Breathe through the pain, no pain no gain, pain is what allows you to know you are alive. This is how I survived the years of torment inflicted on myself. I re-enacted all the pain on myself in order to know I was alive. I took what I hated of him and made it a part of myself. But in 2004 that ended. I chose to walk a different path. I chose to recover.
   Engaging with this topic has given me hope. I know that the future holds something amazing for me. I know that this is what living is. I know this is what freedom tastes like. I love the taste of the rain on my face, the light that shines through the night, and the feeling of well being throughout my whole self.
  In **** and ****** abuse you are left hating your body. You blame yourself, and you hurt yourself as a way of reclaiming the body that another took. Your body becomes disconnected from you, it becomes "another", it becomes a "thing.”

   In Greek Mythology, Persephone is the goddess of spring. According to her story, she was abducted, ***** and taken to the underworld by Hades, the lord of the underworld. When her mother, Demeter, found out what had happened to Persephone, she convinced Zeus to force Hades to release her. Before Persephone could leave, Hades made her eat a pomegranate, which meant that she would have to return to the underworld for one-third of the year. According to the legend, the time Persephone spends in the underworld is the time in which there is winter on the earth. Because Persephone made it out of the underworld, she can be called the first survivor.
As survivors we can take comfort from the knowledge that although winter is hard, there is always spring around the corner.

© Sia Jane (2007)

I am a thousand different things
I'm people, objects, nature, animal
I'm woman, man, girl, boy, child
toddler, baby, foetus

I'm all you could dream of (not) wanting
I'm all you wish you were (not)
I'm (your) anger, sadness, fear, regret
I'm (your) happiness, joy, hope, love

When I write, I'm a character
fiction, autobiographical, biographical
I'm lived, burned, broken, insane
I'm madness, virginal, loose, free
closeted, bi-curious, let's wait it out and see

I'm intrigue, a passer by,
I'm the observer, the observed,
voyeurism, peeping tom, negative film
Moss, McQueen, Klein

I'm art, symbolism, post-modernism,
I'm poetry; written and spoken
I'm the woman you read of; her
I'm the girl who made you cry
I'm full to the brim of (your) inspiration

I open doors to the past, then slam the door
in your bright doe eyes
I close doors to my future, and sneak back
through cracks in the floor,
just to get back

I laugh in your face, and burn holes
in skin at your absence
I kick dirt in my eye, then cry wolf
blinded,
I'm the severest of contradictions,
I say yes at no, no to yes,
I decide on impulse, and cry on cue

Beauty, romance, love, lust
poetry,
all the questions I am made of
I answer in the written word
mute,

You only know me,
(if of course you dare)
by reading my rhymes,
(non judgmental stance)
and loving me regardless,
(don't expect perfection)

If you're going down
the same road
start today,
face your demons,
be the contradiction.

© Sia Jane

--

"So unimpressed but so in awe
Such a saint but such a *****
So self aware so full of ****
So indecisive so adamant

So rock and roll, so corporate suit
So **** ugly, so **** cute
So well-trained, so animal
So need your love, so ******* all"

Robbie Williams - *Come Undone

Love bug, lady crush, peeking through a midnight sky,
Deep Purple, Smoke on the Water, before a
glimmer in her eye,
90's girl, child stars of, The Disney Club,
Timberlake, Spears, Aguilera,
Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls dominating,
every air wave,
Victoria Beckham, her Parsons inspiration
fashion designer she'll fight her way,
to the top, so much power in her name,
yet even stripped bare, she'd be a star,
her talent to sketch, draw and drape,
falls on knees bent, if only we pray,
to even have an ounce from her display,
I know few like her, love unconditional,
we're the writers seeking solace,
an unforgiving pain,
life taking so much drain,
in the light of day this pain brings forth,
an edge to your art, a masochistic feel,
creating itself a soul untamed.

You write to remember, you sketch your dreams
hopelessness turns to desire,
the dark cloud of youth,
dissipates in the air,
knowing there is a way through,
treachery and despair.

My dear, you may some days,
feel in that gutter trying to,
catch a star,
but today you shine, as bright as
a diamond in this very same sky,
we see across continents,
each night that we pray.

Release the grip, lessen the pull,
fly and fly,
sore heights so high,
you ain't ever coming down.

© Sia Jane

She came into her life
A mere stranger of coincidence
Alexander McQueen ivory silk tulle
Empire line gown.
All senses heightened;
She was waiting amidst
The exotic smell of burning
Candle wax.
The scent of a woman clinging
To lustful air, white roses ribboned
Thorns tinting porcelain skin.
She hears the patter, not dislike
A small child coming toward you.
All senses are broken; just a voice
So much power in the echo
Of words spoken with such
Fluidity.
****, he ******* knew that
She was awake, Louboutin steps
Scaring the devil itself; what sin.
Walking through flames,
Burning, hot coals; presence.
Ophelia approaches, a creature
Secure, arms wrapped tight
And smiles at her.
Ophelia speaks to her; lifting her arms
To wrap around her instead.
A gentle hand, to the thigh
A soft caress across silver scars.
The girl feels; inadequate
And yet, forgiven for all she has
Committed; sins of the flesh.
It was only now that, this goddess
Of desire, lust and eternity
Could mark a soul, for she was an
Angel, winged feathers a glow.
She reaches to the empty soul
Challenges her resoluteness
"What can I do to help?"
Eyes welling, the sound of a
Tear, akin to a pin drop
In silence.
In that silence, words formed
Like cloud patterns, shifting
Graceful elegance.
Nothing was heard, all was spoken.
Ophelia stole her heart,
The girl will always be attached
By symbolic resurrections
Of strength,
Spiritual
From
The heart and mind.

© Sia Jane

I look up to pastel blue skies
that fade into pink clouds
I look to what becomes
a clear black night
a full moon in the sky
stars alight like a four carat ring
a canary diamond so bright
catching all the light from the stars
that surround this Northern star
I picture your face
the ring on your left finger
your smile my saving grace
my only comfort knowing
that as much as I miss you
we both look to the same sky
clinging to your smiles
the feel of your embrace
as we make love through the night
my nails are chipped again
bitten through anxiety
wrapped in the same cashmere
swamped in your scent
I smile.*

© Sia Jane

I am always so so inspired by the beauty of the sun setting outside my bedroom widow & as the sun is hidden, I sit on the ledge & a dark night, that is lit by stars, fills my whole room, & I smile, I remember.

She was always a chameleon soul
Black Orchid
Eyes, shadows, vulnerabilities
Of heroine chic,
Juxtaposed with an embracing
Self
Of mutual
weirdness
Meshing voices from
The past
Nostalgic memories for
Behind the camera
A lady photographed
A younger self,
Mirrored reflections of
The lady she had graced
Into through the
Ages,
Where contemplative deliberations
Iconic wonders, flashed through
Her mind
With each click the metamorphosis
Click;
        one
                two
                     ­   three
Twiggy, Edie, Kate
Transformations; a sorcerers magic,
Contradictions;
                        body
           ­                       mind
                                   ­         soul
Mirages amidst reincarnations
Never a remnant of the same
For, the lady behind the lens
Unseen
A ghost veiled in black;
The Black Orchid.

© Sia Jane

Dedicated & written for my darling friend Cara <3
For she shall know love <3

"I'll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting..."*
Richard Siken

You set my soul on fire
pouring gasoline over
every inch of the skin
I inhabit daily

You set my soul on fire
knowing how much it
would burn, leaving
deep everlasting scars

You set my soul on fire
excruciatingly ripping
a person I love so
knowing the pain you'd cause

You set my soul on fire
your face ablaze with
an unspoken contentment
at claiming what you believe is yours

I sit here and mourn
my heart misshaped from the norm
I sit here and weep
at how trampled I was by your feet
I sit here with anger
knowing where to point the finger
twist it round,
with your well rehearsed stirs
that damage, disintegrate and curse


© Sia Jane

"No one's gonna take my soul away
I'm living like Jim Morrison...
In the land of Gods and Monsters
I was an angel"*
Lana Del Rey

Innocence lost, made her crazy
her smile forced, living twisted lies
bitter sweet memories, captured
in death defying detail
waken by the same song bird
who only blessed hope in the
darkness of a new dawn,
singing from the soul,
with filtering movements across
a chipped wood window ledge
enough to keep this young girls
heart in place, making her sad
even cry, with solitude, mixed
with an urgent sense of joy
a window ledge looking out
to grand oak trees, squirrels
playful in flight,
shaken autumnal leaves drop
whispering stories
to the blue ****, chaffinch, swallows
a lowly stray cat jumps
chases leaves that swirl
mini tornados, whistling winds
chasing his tail
a thief of his prey he captures
a baby bird of first flight
racing off into bushes
hiding his feed for the day

A cacophony of deafening
sounds forces their noise
up the narrow stairwell
pounding feet; her father
he frightens the song bird
away, and a silence forms

In her nightdress
Emily grabs the soft torn eared
teddy, lays flat to the dusty
wooden floor and hides
under the four poster bed
silent as a ghost
she is filled with the same
fear, she faces each
and every
day.

© Sia Jane

I found you, cast away in the shadows,
hiding from the laughter, of those
painted clown faces

I found you, on the rooftop
sat with your arms, clasped
to you, wrapped around

Searching through the crowd
blinded, the lights of this
crazy, maddening fairground

Colours forming, moving
the Northern lights, blazing
blues, green, pinks, yellows

Kids and lovers, screaming
the Matterhorn spinning,
a frisbee gondola swinging

Midsummer Fair, a fresh green common
distracted, I turn, the Midnight Express
decorated, loosely dressed women and men

Axles rattling in and out
Ferris wheels, bumper cars, waltzes
Ray Davies playing, side stalls and games

Rubber ducks hooked, fathers shadowing
***** misplacing baskets, a high strike to the bell
in among mirrors, I now find myself reflecting

A cacophony of sounds, noise
music of Bob Bradley penetrating
these convex mirrors, movers and shakers

I pace past drag queens, circus freaks
footsteps moving in timely accord
the Helter Skelter, confused, disorderly haste

I am the whirlwind, climbing outside
the spiral tower, to the top
stars and constellations above

At its peak, I see you
you've climbed onto the rooftop
again

I always found you here
hide and seek, morphed into
children's games of sardines

I find you, you have hidden
I stay with you,
until we are found

Together.

© Sia Jane

When you've lived between the shadows
Only awakening the true self
When the sky casts a dark net
Shielding any visibility
When you've not switched a light
On to the colour of your soul
Terrified of knowing
The vicissitudes of the seasons
Within your own heart
It takes a mighty girl to rise
To look herself in the eye
No longer whispering those lies
To face her own truth*

© Sia Jane

With you I couldn't offer much
I couldn't give you the life
you're so accustomed to
or the valuables
those material gifts
that so suit your lifestyle
the Haute Couture
that clasps to your body
the perfect fit to your
beautiful frame
oh the body of a goddess
one of mythical dreams
I'm far from any Monroe or Taylor
or any of the glamorous stars you so
mirror with such etiquette
I'm the girl sat in a cashmere cardigan
with chipped red nails, bitten to the skin
no make up and bed head hair
and I know that you are true
to all these things too
you're a person about personality
not mere possessions
you beauty is internal it glows
like the diamonds you sing of
stars in a sky of love
grandma Dolly's leather backed bible
hand written notes that carry your true worth
family values knowing without them
you'd be no where
and here am I, as poor as a church mouse
no worldly possessions
just me, myself and I
a heart
my loyalty
my love
a love for you more vast than all
land and oceans combined
each dollar in your pocket couldn't account
for the price of this love
a chance for love is all I crave
to love only you in every way I know how
a tight hug, a light embrace
a smile, a sparkle, a tickle of your thigh
oh what a distant obsession you have become
like a mist of Chanel Eau de Parfum
so intense
then fading into the background
my sheets, soul and skin
are still soaked in your scent
but you've gone, and taken part of me with you
leaving me broken, split in two
but as one,
not one with you.*

© Sia Jane

---

“Kiss me, and you will see how important I am.”
Sylvia Plath

Karen Carpenter, bridged sued cap d'hiver,
(which I hear will be very en vogue this summer)
fringe falling, as gracefully as music flowing through her veins,
(a Pucci jumpsuit, a throwback to times, of rock and roll)

Pinned hair, taped face to secure a wig cap,
(a daily communion bonding her soul to her self)
those Miu Mui boots, leather wrapped sewn to her body
(to which is laying amid candle light gypsy retreat)

A left thigh, glance of the subtly disguised tattoos inscribing her body,
(do we mark our body, to impress others or to claim our own bodies)
silk Chloé gown, gypsy princess of Parisian quarters,
(Jakarta may someday be a resting place for an unsettled soul)

Placing pencil to paper, poetry writes me as lyrics write her,
(do the ivory keys of the Grand Piano fuse inspiration)
piercing red nails, grasping left handed she writes writes writes,
(maybe notes of her future travels dreams aspirations)

A 70's heroine, born to the wrong era standing in the past,
(Yoko Ono Led Zep Stevie Nicks, mahatma's of a lost scene)
innocence purity porcelain *******, torn from a womb too soon,
(not at once a smile, reflective nostalgia unwavering past future)

A fallen tear drop, a hopelessness of peace in her eyes,
(one can see both tattoos of present; ARTPOP, of past; peace symbol)
a fallen angel, legacy leaving her mark on a generation of those lost,

Her left wrist shows a peace sign as a commitment to such peace

Will this ever be a possibility on a planet we call earth?

© Sia Jane

Hitting me, anger assuming it's
common place, during such
arguments of hate and jealousy
it can be seen in your eyes and
through every vein, that pulsates
through your body, back at me
red and igniting, your body it's
own temple of fire and petrol gas
thrown on by my ever answering
back voice, later silenced.

My only means of pacifying
you, is to pull you close as
rough as you drag me,
to the floor, kiss you and
allow you to **** me, forcing
all your weight upon, this now
fragile pale skinned girl, as no
light has crossed her bruised
face in so many days, food is
a weakness, her work her, salvation.

Submissive, I divide you in to
two separate entities, the good of
you, shows affection like no other
passion and commitment, flowers
show up at work, rings, bracelets,
gifts to appease my beaten self
making me, again, yours, again
**** me, it keeps the monster in
you, at bay, controlled I beg for
more, you liked it that way.

The power, it curbed the anger, curbed my, anxiety and fear of the
unknown, never able to control
the relentless moods demons that
raged through you each and every
moment, you looked me in the eyes
hatred or love, baby blue eyes you
would smile, baby blue eyes you
would swear, voice getting louder
walls broken, face smashed in.

How I left you, I will never know
only now do I see, nothing I did
or could have done, would change
what you did to me those days and
nights, of pain and torture, ****
me, maybe it was deserved or
maybe I made it that way to appease
him, even myself, but I ask what
would a real man have done?
answer, not that, right?

© Sia Jane