Hey, Siri. Take a note.

Take a note for every time I make a new document to write a paper for class, only for you to power down in 2 paragraphs, because I've observed your patterns and my studies show that I can't depend on you. You crest and trough in intervals so irregular that if someone were to trace your path, from 79 percent, to 58, to 31 and 79 all over again, they'd be able to outline the Sierra Madre.

Take a note for every time you black out like the lights in a house of a horror movie, as dread like waiting for a spirit beyond the door overcomes me, because you know what -- forget the jumpscare, your sudden death already caught me unawares.

Take a note for every time my heart stops over a powerbank left at home, because not even halfway through my Grab trip, you're full, half full, all gone.

Take a note for every time you register a full green bar one minute, only to drop to 15% in two, because I'll have you know, I'm through.

Take note - I'm disappointed in you.

You make my face light up one second, only to dim into a faint red glow the next.

You've proven yourself unreliable; how can I call you my friend?

You're my heart's ultimate puppeteer, second to none,

You get me charged up only to drain me of the color in my face like the green in the corner, full, half empty, all gone.
****, I could toss you aside, falling to my knees,

Watch your screen crack, shatter, cave in

As its glass shards fly and pierce my skin

Ripping my chest to shreds as my heart takes a piece, but that can't be,

because you tore it apart when you powered down on me!

You're the reason I think the glass is half empty, and I… am empty.

I stare into the void of my dead phone screen -- black. Low battery.

I see wrinkles creasing through my forehead, the bags beneath my eyes,

I see dilated orbs drained of any vigor, any life.

I see my reflection on this black mirror, devoid of any expression whatsoever.

No curves lifting the sides of my lips, no pink flushing both my cheeks, just me, soulless.

I'm empty. It's funny. Through you, I see a girl

who crests and troughs at intervals so irregular,

Who's traced the outline of the Sierra Madre on herself,

Who cracks quicker than glass once she's fallen to her lowest

Who realizes that maybe she's been too ******* you, that maybe she should take a look at herself before she opens her mouth,

before she cracks, shatters, caves in,

glass shards flying, spreading thin.

I stare down at your screen's shards across the floor,

I realize how I can't put you back together, not anymore.

I'm very sorry. I have no words.

I guess you can say… I'm full, half empty, all gone.

10:00 A.M.
Battery: 100%

12:00 P.M.
Battery: 80%

2:00 P.M.
Battery: 67%

4:00 P.M.
Battery: 45%

6:00 P.M.
Battery: 30%

8:00 P.M.
Battery: 10%

10:00 P.M.
Battery: 0%

10:03 P.M.
Notification: You have one unread message:
from Andrea

"i love you ♥"

10:03 P.M.
...
Battery: 100%

Baby cries
Don’t know why
There’s got to be a reason.
By and by
We’ll know why
It can’t be just the season.
Pick them up
When babies cry
And let the know you love them.
Never beat
Never shout
Never push and shove them.

What could a little kid do
That merited a hard fist?
Go ahead, take your time
Write us out a long list.
Did it cry because hungry,
Lonely in it’s own crib?
Did it need frequent changing,
Spit up on it’s tiny bib?

Baby cries
Don’t know why
There’s got to be a reason.
By and by
We’ll know why
It can’t be just the season.

Was there a rash hurting
Or maybe a sour belly.
Did you feed it liver pate
When it wanted cherry jelly?
Did it say no to your orders
When treated like a slave?
What was the crime you felt
Should send them to the grave?

Pick them up
When babies cry
And let the know you love them.
Never beat
Never shout
Never push and shove them.

Something went very wrong with you
That you feel right to hit children;
To starve and cut and burn them
With a kind of joyous abandon.
Is part of it that you get to do
Whatever outrage you want
As long as you keep it hidden,
As long as you don’t flaunt?

Baby cries
Don’t know why
There’s got to be a reason.
By and by
We’ll know why
It can’t be just the season.
Pick them up
When babies cry
And let the know you love them.
Never beat
Never shout
Never push and shove them.

Sept 24th, 2017

In the midnight hours, my neighbour is hosting a party. And I... was in my bedroom watching "The Walking Dead" on Netflix.

In the room next to mine, I hear shouting in the streets and out my window I see the flashing of lights.

2 cop cars on my block.

The night is not young, but look at all these young people in it.

I analyze the voices outside my window, as I watch 3 young boys gather in my driveway.

Wearing dark clothing, CHECK.
Group movement, CHECK.
Overuse of the word "****", CHECK.

And I am praying for them to leave my driveway and they do.

And I migrate to the next room, slightly open the window and listen for more of these people. It's too dark outside for me to see much but the colour of their hair, and the backpacks or purses the brought with them.

They are all gathering at one house, the cops are further down the street, so that all moved.

I used to hang out with the kid who lives at this house. My how things have changed.

Relax.

Go back to your show. And I did.

Later into the night, I hear through my headphones the shouting of a girl and I stop.

She and her what I assumed was her boyfriend just turned the corner and I slowly open my window.

I begin to analyze the situation.

Fighting teenage couple, Check
Probably intoxicated Check

She starts talking about some other guy.
He starts accusing her of cheating.
She gets in his face.
He gets in her face.

She says "I wouldn't do that because I ******* love you!" "And you're gonna make me walk home in the dark?!"

She gets in his face, he gets in her face....

BAM

She's on the ground.

He had forcefully shoved her into the pavement and she just...

Sits there.

In disbelief.

He says, "Yeah? HOW BOUT THAT!"

I don't know why it took so long to act, but I did.

Bolting into my kitchen, with my father up playing backgammon I tell him I just watched a guy shoe his supposed girlfriend in the road and he doesn't miss a beat.

He is out there in the middle of the night and he gets to that boy and I just stand in my living room, watching.

The windows on the first floor were closed so I couldn't hear a thing. But I could only pray that this boy did not carry a blade, or a gun, or the wrong words to my father's throat.

I ran up to my bedroom, grabbed my old cap gun and heard the boy say, "Hey man I don't hit my ******* woman!"

And I went downstair thinking to myself I don't know if my dad is sure to return to this house alive.

I just watched a girl suffer battery, I did not need to see my father die today.

And nobody can tell cap guns are fake when you're buzzed at 2 in the morning so yeah, I was scared.

But wait....

I see my father shake the boy's hand, give him a bro hug...

And send him off.

And when he came back into the house I hugged him and I wasn't exactly keen on letting go.

He told me that he had sent the boy in the opposite direction of his girlfriend.

It turns out she had already walked down the block by the time he had gotten outside.

It is 2:25 AM

After a talk about what happened, I went back to watching "The Walking Dead on Netflix".

And I can only hope that girl was not also walking dead.

My father is a good man.
Even after all that.

He still went back to play more backgammon.

If shield
wilt with
skirl this
time unfurl
hitch that
neither me
nor they
made it
wean just
latent spoor
soon did
wade with
ingenious ratchet
mired gore
with ulterior
indebted in
renewable bonds.

When you go back
Maybe it is to even the score
But it scares us.
Being hit one time should
Tell you that you are
Just going back for more.
The past has promised
Nothing will probably
Ever change.

You don’t seem to know
How it hurts those
Who love you so.
You can’t seem to fit it
Into your head
That we fear the next call
Will be to tell us
That you are dead.

He beats you and then
When he is not
He’ll saying ugly things.
That’s the kind of
White knight you have got.
You call him wonderful
When he’s not a snot.
We keep telling you
Wake up, wretched girl
He is certainly not.

Sometimes you tell us
You want to give him a chance
To explain things to you
But he can only give
Some more lies because
That’s what liars do.

And you tell lies as well
Or why else go back
To that personal hell?
You go back because
To be alone scares you
Almost as well
As being berated and
Beaten like a bell.

But we don’t want this!
To know you are hurting
And bruised by
A man you should be deserting
For a life where people
Can be trusted with love
And not to shove a fist
Into a battering glove.

Don’t go back, beloved.
If you do you tie our hands.
Some of us understand
But that doesn’t mean
That we agree with your choice.
Listen to the voice
Of reason when we say
Don’t go back for more today.
Or ever again.

This is a fictional account, but based
On truth for many women. I was,
Myself, abused by an ex-boyfriend.

---

Here's the ballad of Hammer Hand,
I'm here to spread it 'cross the land.
He loved to hit, as you can see.
What he hit was mainly me.
He was a brawler in the day,
But I left him where he lay.

This is for you gals out there
Who are hopeless, in despair,
Who are battered, made to kneel,
I do this so we both can heal.

I was kicked upside the head,
But now ol' Hammer Hand is dead.

~~CHORUS~~
Hammer Hand, oh Hammer Hand,
Did beating me make you a man?
I have suffered your attack,
You have made me blue on black,
Your heart was black, my soul was blue,
Your soul was false, my heart was true.

~~~~~~

Hammer Hand was tall and lean,
He was big, and ha was mean,
He would snack and he would punch,
Then he would demand his lunch.
He used to hit me when he drank,
His breath was fetid, his body rank,
Whenever help I'd try to seek.
He would hit me into next week.

~~~~~~

Hammer Hand is dead today
And this is what I have to say,
I told him when he broke my teeth,
He would pay and come to grief!
Satan himself will take you down,
And you'll be six feet underground.

~~ CHORUS ~~

I'm a woman so you're bold,
But Hammer Hand, you're getting old,
Hammer Hand you've had your fun,
But don't forget I have a SON.
You can make me black and blue,
But don't you go and  hit him, too!
Don't make him hate you, make him mean,
Soon he will be seventeen.

You said a thing which I believe,
You said you'd **** me if I leave.
But me 'n Jamie gonna pack,
We're gonna leave and not come back.
When I die, at least I know,
Where I'm bound, which way I'll go!
Down inside you know as well,
You are goin' straight to hell.

Hammer Hand, O Hammer Hand,
Now we've left, are you so grand?
You won't hurt us anymore,
'Cause you're dead upon the floor.
I don't think that you'll survive,
Shot with your own 45,

It wasn't me, I'm not that brave...

T'was Jamie put you in the grave.

At sixteen he was pale and shy

But he put a slug between your eyes.

You made him beg. You made him bow.

Well. I hope you're happy now.


SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) June 11, 2011

I was thinking....

Maybe humans are
More like our
Devices
Than we realize

You see,
We can die inside
All we want
And it's no big deal
No one really cares

But also,
As long as
We are physically alive
All we need
Is for someone
To replace our batteries