Night fades, an awakening dawn,
Awaken by the same song bird
Singing from the soul, bittersweet memories heard
A window ledge looking out to the grand oak trees upon the lawn,
Squirrels playful in flight, shaken autumnal leaves; magenta & fawn
A lowly stray cat jumps, chases leaves that swirl, a baby bird at first flight, sight blurred
The cat pounces, a thief to his prey he captures, flees out of sight; the girl watches without a word
A cacophony of deafening sounds force their noise up the narrow stairwell, the song bird is gone

Pounding feet; her father he frightens the song bird far far away, a silence forms,
In her nightdress the girl she grabs the soft torn eared teddy,
Her tiny feet silently tiptoe, she lays flat on the old dusty wooden floor:
Hiding under the four poster bed, her fearful breaths deep & heady
Her heart misshaped as trampled by his feet, her soul mourns
Filled with the same fear she faces each & every day, all that remains is the locking of her bedroom door.

© Sia Jane

can't you see I am d
                                  r
                           ­         o
                                      w
              ­                           ning
in the depth of love
you used to offer me

throw me a saviour
anything to even just
keep me afloat

because I am sinking
in the sorrow you left
me with, tears f
                           a
                              l
                                 l
                                    ing

opening my heart
my soul and more
left me an open target

shot down I am
dying a slow death
bleeding out

call me an *******
an attention *****
a selfish *****

for missing what I
at one time held
so tightly to this chest.

© Sia Jane

I bite my top lip
close my eyes
& trust my memories
to remember your smell
biting my bottom lip, I yearn
to capture your taste.
I hear myself giggle
& exhale loudly...
"What have you done
      to me."
Inside my head is spinning
&, this
          this is what you do!
My whole world is opened
I saw the debris
   before I saw you
& that's how I knew
that only once in my life
will ever a storm
  that destroys
so much within
       & around me
be the storm landing
that throws my world
  before picking up
   every broken piece of me
& sculpting me into
   a woman without walls.

© Sia Jane

You're a big girl now,
pull those socks up
high,
let them go as high
as that slender thigh
wrapped around the
tattoo marking your
place,
put a smile on that
face, don't let the
hate keep you and
make you fall from
grace,
call you crazy, their
words hitting the target;
your heart, broken
ripped apart, kicked
down to the floor that
is depths deeper than
your head, hold your
breath to reach that dark
space,
you don't need saving,
you have enough face,
to laugh at the hate, and
force their hand, to eat from
yours, their face take a place
on the dart board of disgrace
one shot, two shot, three shot
man down, you're taking your
worked for dwelling among the
fighters, equally bruised you stand
tall,
you put those high heals on
red soles, matching the lipstick
marks on that champagne glass,
as we salute your success
cause no one is stronger,
than the girl, now woman,
who stands in this crowded
room, raising a glass, to
your very name, far from a
disgrace, but praise worthy
admiration, inspiration,
no one would trade her in,
cause she is her own saviour
and no one can ever take
her soul, not even a lover
for she saves herself
unlike any other.

© Sia Jane

I missed you before you even left.
     “One day she will leave,” echoes
tirelessly throughout
      a hallway once adorned with love.
  I was too blinded those days,
even now in all truth
my own cigarette smoke covered
   the betrayal in your eyes
each time you told me,
                “I am truly, madly deeply,
                      in love with you.”
Smoke rings filled the room,
and in the haze
  of mist,
a Judas kiss.    

© Sia Jane

My heads this mess
that only craves your caress
a year has passed
since I sang you a lullaby
to send you softly
off to sleep
wrapped safely around me
no mistake

I focus on the good
forgetting the bad
watching a movie about
Elizabeth and Richard
that tells me maybe all love
is as turbulent as theirs was
one that ultimately
killed them both

And maybe that's love
maybe it is a volcano
and a tornado
crossing paths
setting fire to coals
we walk on
just to be able
to make that embrace

The shouting and screaming
the passion and pain
the long nights spent
curled up in ***** crying
in separate rooms only
wanting to be with
one another and yet
too stubborn to let go

Telling me silent lies
whispering to me tales
that it would all be fine
that the words you spoke
were empty and null
in the moment
not real or meant
to make me burn

The burning was always
so slow, like a fire fading
the heat calming
and as time passed
it never burnt as deep
no antibiotic needed
to heal the depth of
wound you scarred me with

Part of me loved
the passion and screaming
the cussing and smashing
of glasses
that fell in slow motion
to the slate on the floor
as it shattered
like my heart

We stabbed each other
more than once
it was endless
it was insane and crazy
it was nonsensical
and yet, after all this time
perhaps
perhaps
it was just
how true love is meant to be.

Maybe we were meant to be.

© Sia Jane

Her heart is an
empty concave space
with nothing beating or
pumping
it's not red with blood and
vessels
instead it's in the palm of
her hand
pale and shrunken
and as much as she
wants it to pump
there's no energy to even
be herself
let alone
save her heart

© Sia Jane

Can you not hear
The deafening screams
Directed to your heart
Firing out from hell
Demons wrenching
Your gut in knots
Twisted
Contorted
A soul of
Supreme disaster
Reined by hells angels
Blasted out
From under
Land fracked
Disturbing lands
Unknown.

Can you not hear
The very voices
You too
Fear
Tears so sincere
Distorting
Inner shadows
Ghostly intervals
Chasing innocence at once
Lost
Broken child
An unlikely warning
Skin on skin burns
Plastic dolls eyes melting
Wailing incessantly
I’ll see you on the other side.

© Sia Jane

He wanted to know her
he wanted to touch every inch
of her imperfectly perfect skin
to know every scar
to know her tiger stripes
from growth spurts and pregnancy
the pieces of metal left in her
and the dislocated bones
all had their own stories from childhood
the day she was caught on a fence
the tom boy in lace socks
her mum had dressed her in
for Sunday school
the ripped dress as she fell in mud
breaking her right elbow which to
this day left her with a bone pointing out
he wanted to spend days
just looking at her scarred face-
her upper lip – sat in the changing rooms
after a gymnastics competition
playing catch but the bottle of water
went right at her face
her forehead – walking at ten months
trips and falls, she hits her head
on the way down face to face
with the rockery -
incidentally the rockery where the cat
is buried
poor thing was stood on many times
as she was learning to walk
he counts the freckles on her left cheekbone
which on her porcelain skin
shine like Orion’s Belt on a clear night
he loved every part of her she did not
he memorized every feature that made
her “her”
he knew the truth had always been there
right in front of him since the first
time he saw her naked –
her naked soul exposed a long time before
anything he could ever make tangible.

© Sia Jane

Her, Rising

"But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."

Isaiah 40:31

My feet still, held
gravity pulls, I'm
still on the ground

Your wings addorsed
I stand,
faithful to the
King of the Skies

You are the messenger
of Highest Gods
you represent all
I wish to be

courage
    power
        strength

My face torn, masks
unearthed
ripped & savaged

I'm The Scream
Munch painting
art
alluded expressionism

Oils, pastels, crayon
sink into my skin
as claws rip flesh
away from my bone

I am the Fallen
you are the Rising

I am your Canvas
you are my Artist.

© Sia Jane

Life had stained her
a reflection upon,
a broken glass mirror
naked, only butterflies
cover my *******
love hearts & roses,
form tattoos across,
around, my spine
decorating this bare
form, one alive, one a ghost
she's my best friend,
writing poetry together
she teaches me Spanish,
the work of Pablo Neruda
on the kitchen sideboards,
shed of our black leather
pencil skirts,
you played, so seductively
with the long waves
in my blonde sun tinted hair,
painting nails, spring baby blu
you rip pages of books, black & white
newspaper prints of unicorns,
they are playing with a younger self,
moi, je fais de la bicyclette,
les fleurs, a milliners gift box
baskets filled with,
shells from the sea shore
to which we always travel
la lune et le soleil,
knowing three things can
never remain hidden; the sun, the moon,
& my truth (not yours)
for that should be me,
not you.

© Sia Jane

There ain't no comin' back,
                 you always fall too far,
Into abyss, never ever learning,
You ain't comin' back,
                 from being that bad,
Leavin' you tomorrow, a promise made,
                  yesterdays last glass,
Forgivin' by the mornin', you'll always,
                  get your wish,
Nothin' is gonna come & save you,
                  you told me this,
Now look at the bliss, broken man,
                  a shot & a miss,
A kiss with a prayer; thirst, hunger, flesh,
                 heart filled boxes,
Crossing lines, blurred, unhinged,
                 beauty queen quest,
Disaster honey, the finest catch,
                trust earned with just one touch,
***, lust, a sincere must for you,
                fill it, empty it out,
Waking sober, harrowing saint,
               throw back the bottle,
Ain't no angel saving you,
              smoke another puff,
Drag it out long,
               shadow seeking,
Dissipating in air,
              polluted landscapes.
The world ain't yours any more,
              lost; born to die young.


© Sia Jane

Only yesterday, you stood before me.
You watched me a while,
           you saved me last night you say.
We begin talking about the thunderstorms
you saved me last night you say,
          you’re repeating yourself again.
That was yesterday I say,
but you keep saying you saved me last night
           studying me intently your eyes fill;
a storm drain overflowing with rain,
the tidal wave in your stomach kept rising;
            I would have drowned without you there-
you’d think I was the equivalent of coming
up for air.
           You’re more than the oxygen I breathe
you say, coming closer to me.
You’re my sun.
            I want to tell you I’m afraid of my
darkness. But I can’t say it out loud to you.
You see dearest, I can’t take my limbs apart like you
            I’ve forgotten how to sew myself
back together. All my emotions, are held
in a nest between rib bones; rib bones broken
            in the fight endured trying to get
the world to love me. Yours, is a heart awaiting
for the blooming of flowers, which follow a winter
           of freezing now pining to thaw.
Tears surge down your cheeks –
they’re forming pools of salt water
           between your *******.
Only yesterday, you stood before me.
You taught me to dance, your elegant body
           telling stories.
Night was drawing closer, and out the window
I can see another storm is approaching.
           I was a child born in a thunderstorm,
you say. The first night we met, you told me
you are the eye of all my storms. The calm centre
            keeping me grounded. You saved me
last night you say again.
No baby I say, you save yourself every time.
You’re not the monster
           you think yourself to be.

© Sia Jane

Insomnia,
Once again we meet, I've grown accustomed to your nightly *******; a dangerous liaison in those early hours.
It's 5 o'clock in the morning, I'm tired
worn
withdrawn
the monotony of daily embargoes; assaults on my mind.

Insomnia,
You're beside me now smiling, so tainted with desire, laying beside me; skin as pale as ghost walkers of the night.
Your demonic shadow need not accompany me, stealing hours of wakeful sleep.
You're no lover to me.

"Don't you see me," you smirk.
"Of course I do," I retort.

You begin to justle with rage, splashed sanguine, green with envy. Toiled & troubled; you know day is breaking, you fear the light.

"I missed you last..." you pause...
"Oh,  you're going to give me the silent treatment? Okay, I'll just answer for you... 'I always miss my baby, every night you're absent, I know I can't live without you'.."

I turn away, tears in my eyes...

sleep sleep sleep sleep sleep

Insomnia,
You're my demon of the night. I fear how far you will bring me to my knees; begging on another star - already dead no dreams will become - for strength, hope, love.

Insomnia,
I call you my dangerous liaison, I still cling to you -
friend & foe
absent lover
lost addiction...

You keep me so deep,
                                      in love with you.

© Sia Jane

Hazel eyes lost in seas, of red ruby wine lips,
Drunk love lusted after, crimson caress,
Parted lips tasted, sweet my love, thy love, my love,
Open heart, surgery retreating for the risk the unknown,
Arms wrapped ivy, anaesthetize beating hearts heard,
Coming undone, to be made complete soul struck,
For I choose, freely with will to love each day,
You, you, oh yes, you.

That old cliché, setting the one free letting go,
How I died, a thousand times over, over, over,
Letting go, letting go, letting go,
You never flew from me, you flew towards me back,
Aching, shaking, soothing, beats pounding freely you returned,
No restraint, chains, locks to keep you so you stayed,
Thousands of; ‘I love you,’ ‘I love you,’ ‘I love you,’
Penetrating cold hospital air, waves crashing to shore returning,
A Thursday fell upon us days later, as you followed me home.

Colliding we fell, such deep velocity impulsive desire,
Those weeks blew up, nuclear blasts polluting air,
And on the Saturday you flew, it felt like coming home,
I wanted you, I needed you, oh, how I needed you,
Because of course, I was so catastrophically in love,
Loving you not because, I needed you,
But needing you because I loved, you,
And I had waited, for you, again, again, again,
Never believing so openly, your wings would spread back to me.

A week passes, speed shaking on amphetamines,
Walking through the door, your eyes hit me diamonds,
And nothing mattered, you become me, I become you,
Bubbles closing in, fantasy reality merging marrying,
I say; ‘you need to take your gum out so I can kiss you,’
And you smiled, giggled as an eternity passed by,
Secrets unknown land, wrapped encased feeling,
I felt, I had never been kissed before that very moment,
Leaning into you craving you wanting you, more enough,
And I knew; knew it then know it now, crazy eyes withheld,
For only, only, only, you,

And I could never had known, that one day in May,
I would love you,
                            could love,
and
                           did, love you.

© Sia Jane

Life growing inside her
a kick
a scream
monsters crawling
below the skin
a satanic life
consuming her
inner world
no life would be
bore
from this girl
a life form of its
own
took the place of
a baby miracle of
life
a stab in the dark
a twisted knife
one to the heart
one to the back
cleansing came from
blood oozing out
let's attack this
monster
that lives inside
her body and
mind
years have past
the hurt still remains
each blow a
re-traumatisation
a memory
of times gone by
the same repetitive
story
what shame is carried
below the surface
oh dear monsters
how do you ever
liberate
her
before she takes
a final bow
goodnight
god bless

© Sia Jane

-

"I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed
Get along with the voices inside of my head
You're trying to save me, stop holding your breath
And you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy.."

Eminem feat Rihanna "The Monster"

The Awoken,
catatonic coma; depressive crash
eyes open, blank stare

I hear; 'Is she awake?'
I was never asleep, I mutter.
no one hears me.

I'm none compliant, yet
fully lucid
my brain turns over scripts
my lips remain mute.

The Watcher,
observing, all senses stimulated

I hear;
the woodpecker in the garden
the kettle whistling downstairs

I see;
mother, doctor, grandmother, dog
the artificial light as dawn rises

I taste;
the metal on my tongue - 'I think the Lithium is working...' the doctor evaluates

I smell;
the dogs breath, he sleeps beside me
last nights family supper, grandma made roast lamb

I feel;
the heavy weight of blankets piled
the needle in my hand as I'm fed through a drip

I ache;
muscles as knotted as my esothagus
my weight sinking into the mattress where bones & sores rub
my ribs form a concave dark magic
it needs expelling
weakness isn't my friend anymore

I stare;
sedatives cloud me
the electroconvulsive therapy shocks
and yet, after
you're still, somber, forgetful
ghostly
you just lie there
time isn't even a concept
as night brings day, day brings night
it's all you know

Hands touch skin stretched tightly
over protruding bones
I'm on my back now
my only company; the ceiling
not even the canopy of stars I once gazed at with joy
not forgetting Muse, he rests beside me still
it's hard to breathe

I simply slip away,
again.

© Sia Jane

I want to be the Ginger Rogers
to your Fred Astaire
the rocks of ice
in your Jameson glass,
I want to be the girl
you sing about
or the lit cigarette
your lipstick marks
Chanel rouge noir,
I want each embrace
you encounter
to touch me too
through the spaces,
I'd even be the words
in the book
you lift to read at night,
I just simply want to be
every single
missing piece
you've ever felt
or ever needed,
I want to be Cupid
stealing your heart
selfishly for
my own pleasure,
oh what toil and trouble
a girl unhinged
her unbalanced mind
bursting bubbles of blood
through her boiling passion
deep within the skin.

© Sia Jane

Touch me like I am,
a moonbeam of delight.

A sky diamond no flaws,
a flashback through time.

Seek solace in midnight memories,
a weight in golden worth.

Arrest me make the suggest,
to hold me in utter nakedness.

Pretty dancer whiskey bottle,
phone on repeat dead line.

Custody danger never to be seen,
another round null no sound.

Constance in the coffee shop,
scouting out potentials.

Blows off steam outside church walls,
ringing bells magical three tolls.

Great thinkers diseased,
malady of souls.

Faking it 'til they make it,
open your eyes.

Sorrows of another night,
off the wagon.

Pick you up,
lost cause.

Judas.
Judas.
Judas.

Desperation,
a blinded soul.

© Sia Jane

The night you left me, the moon was
hanging low in a star filled sky -
and at
the nearby revving of your Métisse -
       the residue engine smoke exhausted
           abruptly woke the neighbours dogs -
it dirtied my skin
and filled my lungs to a brim
so high;
I choked what was left of us out
and I remembered the privilege given
to those who choose
to chase of life, not death.
Breathe and let go....
     repeat until the memory
is something you
no longer know.             © Sia Jane

Barefoot, each step sunken in mud
splashes of rain marry with
crimson drops in a puddle
of stormed waves
from an opened heaven

She kneels to the ground
simultaneously glancing
left, right, behind
cheeks blushed, her soul falling
as teardrops - her lowest ebb

Ripping her cotton dress
she replaces blood soaked rags
it’s been six days.

This war with herself
at only twelve years of age
every nineteen days
her body a vessel, confirmation
of demurred womanhood

Each month persecuted,
Jesus nailed to a cross
a period of girlhood abruptly ends.

Amidst war-torn streets
fleeing torched homes
civil war displacing
orphaned sisters - *****
militants prevail over innocence.

Washing her sin away
red body fluids disperse
in mud, rain, water, soil
her reflection lost
along the side of dignity

On those same knees
Chausiku pleaded with God
to no longer bring forth
the fertility of conception
each cursed month.

Congolese civil wars scraped away landscapes
Mother Nature scraped away internal walls
and month after month after month this period endures
and a child of the night stays hidden from sight.

© Sia Jane

La Belle et La Bête

The Parisian Review lit a candle that night,
They honoured a granting to all those
On French soil, who among other things,
Disturbed & desiccated passions
Of those who were not perturbed by noises
Around those endured in flight seeking sanction.

She remained gracious as she walked
The Champs‑Élysées carrying platinum gold soul,
For it was July 14th, Bastille Day
A paradise for those lost heroes so named; Elysian Fields
But today wasn't a war of Gods & monsters,
She was la belle mademoiselle du jour on perfected streets
Louis Vuitton, Cartier, Hôtel de la Païva; 8th arrondissement of Paris.

He strolled, a dignified approach
To the woman of memory
So pained by his misgivings,
So chosen,
                   So forgiven,
                                         So loved
Today, she chose to forget,
To forsake,
To only know,
                       To love
To love, to love, him.

© Sia Jane

Nails still chipped
cuticles still torn
a repetitive record of
how the days merge into
one another

She has her heart and
there is no amount of
distance or darkness that
kidnaps this heart
and steals it back to her

The world has taken her
into a territory she has met
with on several occasions and
still this rings of something
unknown, the first of love

Listening she hears her name
playing a song in her mind
distracting her from all that
a simple day offers her and
dominates her every thought

Biting her lips the blood
trickles out from an old scar
a war wound from her past
affairs.

The taste of blood soothes her
like the bite of a lover
one she has yet to
taste.

© Sia Jane

You see,
when I escaped your love
I had rocks tied to my ankles in knots,
and I walked into the lake
barely recognising myself,
just caught up in a memory and replaying
the pain in my head, so numbing that
I detached from anyone else’s love.

I thought love, real love, was about sacrifice.
You fed me lies about true love -
never ending ‘happily ever afters,’
and in my naïve mistaken heart,
I trusted to believe real love meant death -
that true sacrifice was self-sacrifice.

So, dressed in the wedding dress
(I was to wear on Monday)
my hair plated the way you liked it,
your grandma’s emeralds around my neck,
earrings dropping as a pendant, and the ring
on my left hand, I walked.

I walked.
I held tightly onto the bouquet of lilies
(were they not always meant for funerals)
and I stepped into the lake.
Cold water rising up my thighs,
cold water which actually felt more ‘known’
than the unknown land of your love.

I wasn’t even scared.

I’d washed down fear with
a bottle of pain.
I washed down fear with
pills of despair.
I just kept walking.
And the only sound I remember,
is my humming of Beethoven’s Für Elise.
In my mind, I could see you dancing
en pointe- your feet as eloquently poised
as the pianists fingers,
never in a race to finish -
just movements of grace.

And that’s who I am today -
I am the dancer
(Odette and Odile).
My humanity is now outdated -
I too, throw myself into the lake,
and, as I take my final breath
we – you and I, my lover –
are seen flying past the moon.

© Sia Jane

By late July,
  I’m counting sheep again.
    I find an unknown land
        to gather the remnants

of my lucid dreams.
  Each night I’m walking alone
     across deserts where
        nothing ever grows.

Years of rainfall
   have left them barren.
     By late July,
         the deserts are beginning

to fear the sun once again.
   I talk to them, and say;
     ‘Don’t be afraid. I hear
          a thunder storm approaching.

El Niño will flood
   the riverbeds close by
      and you will, once again,
         flourish; a beautiful oasis

blossoming with life.’
   I am consoled by my own
      inability to sleep.
         The empty spaces ahead,

no longer phase me.
   As the desert is brought to life,
       a flower lies below each
          step I take through my nights.

If I look deeply enough
   the faces on the flowers
       begin to tell
          their own stories.

They tell of years underground,
    a seed in the desert soil
       still, motionless,
          waiting patiently;

the awakening
    of sleeping beauty
       comes slowly
           then suddenly.

I consider how they grow,
    they neither toil nor spin;
        they simply be.
           I stood silently.

All night, I waited.
    I watched them;
        how they trust all
           they need, will come.

They neither toil nor spin –
    for all they said  
        was shown to them.
           ‘You see,’ they say

‘one day you’ll finally know,
    all you needed to do.
         You must not fight,
            just be.’

By late July,
    I stop counting sheep.

© Sia Jane

Your pale skinned girl
whose roses thorns
pierce, red tainted
cheeks

You take the blood
from her finger tips
pricked, smearing
circles

Bright blue eyes sparkle
akin to, the chandelier
above her willowed out
self

Her eyes always glistened
more when, they were
heavy from always
weeping

Sadness had a taste
salt water falls on open
grazes, where cuffs clasped
her

Today was liberation
sold on from one buyer
to another, man of
taste

Her beauty had a price
she was, the first price sale
this bidding meant a new
dress

Today she was virginal
pure white, floral, leaving
an opened button for the
imagination

He lied about her age
a teenager, he said as
her face smiled, so
innocent

In all truth this girl had been
captured since, her teens
for at least a decade has now
passed

Roll up
Roll up
Next sale
Next girl

How they flock to this
blonde haired girl
not woman, they prefer little
girls.

© Sia Jane

You only told me, at the tender age of three,
Just how beautiful this very life
Could be.
That as a young girl, a child let go,
I could run so freely, through
Fields of fruit trees, days of May
Owls howling, despite, such clear
Daylight.
Birds chirping, how they fight for
A place,
Among the cacophony of,
Sounds, dogs barking, cats purring,
A gentle breeze.
Spring is slowly, about to fall
Yellow daffodils, purple crocus,
Even a magnolia begins to find, flight.
The moles this garden so, loves
To hate, a little soft face, rising
From the ground, a cat
In sight, waiting for just one catch.
The days are longer, nights colder,
Stars protecting a moon that beams,
In such clear sight, a blackout in
The sky.
The sun sets, slowly and all at once,
The way I described how,
Depression felt, so slowly that
You don’t notice, and suddenly,
Like the shining sun, you are gone.
Squirrels play, Oak trees surround me,
as I ponder the age, and decades that
they have stood so firm, asking myself,
what secrets do they hold, who do they share
the tales of this Hamlet I call home, with.
Home, a place I could never,
Dismiss,
Without my heart, remaining
On the concrete slabs I walk,
Bare feet on grass, still carrying
Morning dew.
My soul a bird’s song, in love forever,
A practice of freedom, an entity oh
So rare, in a world so stripped,
Of the essentials of life.
Saving myself, from the roller coaster
Of life,
I am brought closer, to all the things,
That matter, as I continue to believe
We will be in love forever.
Clouds marry, then within a glance
Of an eye, fade, a puff of smoke,
Only blue skies, an orange tinted
Light.
Sins forgiven, seeking redemption,
****** sits,
In the dim sunshine, oh
Yes,
I know, we will be
In
Love forever.

© Sia Jane

Fourteen years ago, I was entering a new Millennium.
I was a broken girl.
A mere nineteen years of age.
I was celebrating with friends.
There was drink and music and a fancy dress.
I don't recall much, only two photos of that night, sparked from a disposable Kodak camera.
I scribbled out his face, using a black pen.
I did the same with the Polaroid picture I had of us all.
The "crew," those who claimed to be loyal and best friends.
We were all in the image, and I took his face and made it go away.
At the same time I scribbled out her head.
She was the best friend that turned full circle on me.
She made life hell.
She made me never want to be anywhere near any of them.
Both their faces were removed.
Like in the show Revenge, where as she revenges those who did her father wrong, she writes them out.
And I did the same.
Little by little, only my face remained.
No one believed how he was with me.
I never even told them the full story.
Just minor details, and I used to be laughed at, the crazy one telling lies running from the truth.
But what went on behind those doors, will only even be known by us.
And of course the therapist who recalled the details with me, to reform and rejuvenate my tempered mind.
Secrets I shared with her.
In the room, which had a white noise switch, so only us and the walls knew the verses sang.
I'll spare the reader the details of the nights ***** and beaten, another poor girls cries through the night.
And as dusk turned til dawn, on this treacherous love affair, I ran.
And the running took me home, and although safe, he was a presence there for almost a year.
Outside he was waiting, the door bell ringing, the phone blowing up.
I would cry and rip the cards and love letters he so wrote.
I would be on bended knees pleading for release.
I wanted to take it all back, all the screaming, the shouting, being muted and used and abused.
It was so prevalent in my head that I eventually lost all conscience.
So detached during such attacks, no memory really remained.
It was scattered and fallen, and my body mirrored the deterioration of my mind.
Thinner and thinner, I escaped all womanhood.
I shrank, to the point I shopped in the children's section.
It pleased me because I felt safe, it pleased me because he could no longer hurt me.
But that night he did. And I purged in the bathroom for the first time, after he forced me to my knees.
He even had the audacity to come into the bedroom after, and express his concern for the waif I now was.
I told him I was fine.
Decades later, that "fine" response remains.
I dealt with his force and pain, the pain he pushed and locked on me.
And yet every new year, I am reminded of what went so terribly wrong.
Three months down the line, celebrations into 2000, he is thrown out by security.
I actually can't even remember what he did.
I guess he did enough for others to see that he was wronging me.
Yet I always questioned, how could something that felt so right, be so wrong.
I asked my mum earlier; "do you think he is married with kids?"
"Yes!"
"Do you think he hurts her?"
"Yes!"
All my answers cleared.
Here I am, 2013, alone.
Single since the start, and single at the end.
I hurt.
I am tired.
In many ways, I am thinking that a little pain, for a life time of sleep, could be worth it.
Goodnight.

© Sia Jane

To keep an untold story
within this very soul
heart breaking pain
cracking through ribs
                                    ribs
                  ­                       ribs

At once such lovely bones
which crumble
                         crumble
                                       crumble

Second chance a delicacy
placing those candles
petrol fuel to a fire raging
                                          raging
        ­                                             raging

When I write love
there is a reason
the four letter words
become only three
                               three
                                        three

A four letter word
a heart replacing
an empty o
                      o
                          o

Hold­ing the letter
my heart not yours
you don't release
this fear
              fear
                     fear

I say I miss you
you say you
miss me
               me
                    me

Vulnerable fragile
bones break
                    break
                              br­eak

Resist temptation
only peace is
my love
               love
                       love.

© Sia Jane