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kevin morris Jan 2014
This is a fictional account of the abuse suffered by a young boy. Any resemblance to persons either living or dead is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1

Lady Macbeth remarked “Tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil”. All children have their terrors. The bogeyman who lurks in dark corners patiently waiting to harm the unwary child. The ghost who haunts the attic where, even on a bright sunny day the child fears to go alone or some unspeakable terror, a horror with no name which lies just below the surface of every day life. In my case the ghoul who cast an all pervasive shadow over my childhood was Colin, a man small in stature but, to a child a monster of epic proportions.
I have, on occasions tried to comprehend why my abuser acted as he did. As a boy I had no desire to understand Colin. I hated him with an all consuming loathing. He was the devil incarnate who, if it had been in my power to do so I would have destroyed with as little compunction as a man would show when exterminating a rat. As an adult the hatred remains although now tempered with a desire to understand why Colin abused a small, defenceless child, physically and mentally over a prolonged period.
Was Colin abused by one (or both) of his parents? And, if so does this help to explain (but in no way excuse) why he took such great delight in inflicting pain on me? I met both of Colin’s parents and stayed with them on several occasions. At no time during those visits was I subjected to any kind of abuse. This does not of course prove that Colin’s mother and father where not abusers. It demonstrates that they did not abuse me, no more, no less. However, looking back at my visits to their home and, in particular the fact that neither of Colin’s parents abused me, I am inclined to believe that he was not ill treated by either of them. So what turned Colin into the monster who took delight in twisting my arm so hard behind my back that I thought it would break? The answer is, I have no idea. What turned apparently normal Germans into mass murderers in ******’s *****? The answer is the same, I don’t know. As with the concentration camp guards who committed mass ****** I can speculate that some where subjected to abuse as children and that this led to them becoming psychopathic killers. However not all of those abused in childhood go on to commit abuse, while many in the SS experienced apparently happy childhoods untroubled by abuse. Colin may have been abused by someone other than his parents but even if this is the case this does not explain or justify why he became an abuser.

Chapter 2

I was born on 7 February 1971 in the north of England. Soon after my birth it became apparent that all was not right with Donald Myers. I cried far more than any normal child ought to. In addition I banged my head against hard surfaces on a frequent basis which, obviously gave rise to concern. My mum, as any good mother would took me to the hospital only to be told that there was nothing amiss. However a mother’s instinct told her that something was terribly wrong with her son. She refused to leave the hospital and demanded a second opinion. This was provided by a Polish doctor who, having examined me diagnosed a blood clot on the brain. My distraught family was informed that I required an urgent operation and even if the blood clot was successfully removed I was likely to be severely mentaly disabled. Fortunately the blood clot was removed and I am not mentally deficient. The clot did, however leave me with very poor vision (I am registered blind and use a guide dog as a mobility aid although I possess useful vision which assists with orientation).

Chapter 3

As a young boy I spent a great deal of time with my grandfather. This was due to my sister, Janet being ill and my mum not being able to look after 2 young children simultaneously.
I have fond memories of playing in what I called “the patch”, a piece of the garden which my grandfather allowed me to do with as I chose. I recall making mud pies and coming into the house caked in mud literally from head to toe.
Being blind I relied on my grandfather to read to me. Most weekends found us in a book shop. Whenever I walk into W H Smiths the scent of books brings back happy memories of time spent with my grandfather, me sitting on his knee as he read to me.
My grandfather was a dear, kind gentle man. Had he known how Colin was abusing me he would, I am sure have gone straight to the nearest police station to report him. However he never knew and, being a small child I never confided in him.
I am amazed when I hear people ask “why didn’t so and so report the abuse?” As a small child I was terrified of Colin. Had I told anyone I was sure that he would deny everything and the abuse would intensify. I was not aware of the existence of the National Society For The Prevention Of Cruelty To Children (NSPCC) and even had I known of their existence I would, as a frightened little boy have lacked the courage to pick up the phone and call. Colin would, no doubt have accused me of lying and in the 1970’s and 1980’s children where rarely believed when making alegations of abuse.

Chapter 4

I used to dread leaving the safety of my grandfather’s home to spend time with Colin and my mother. My heart would sink when Colin or my mum came to collect me from my grandfather’s. On one occasion I deliberately dropped the car keys behind the kitchen worktop in the forlorn hope this would prevent my mum taking me to stay with her and Colin. Oh vain hope, the keys where discovered and I found myself in the lair of the abuser.
Colin took care never to abuse me in the presence of others. He was, however adept at tormenting me when my mum or other people where nearby but couldn’t see what he was doing. One incident is indelibly etched on my memory. I was sitting on the sofa, in the living room. The room opened straight out into the street and I was seated close to the front door. My mum called to me from outside asking whether I wanted to accompany her to the supermarket. I replied “yes” but before I could leave to join her Colin, who was sitting on the same sofa twisted my arm behind my back and whispered that I should tell my mum that I had changed my mind. I continued to attempt to leave but Colin increased the pressure saying that if I didn’t inform my mum that I had changed my mind he would break my arm. Naturally I called to my mum that I no longer wished to go with her and she left without me.
Being outside my mum did not see the abuse taking place a mere few feet from where she was standing.
On another occasion, while Colin and I where sitting in the living room, he forced a chipped mug into my lip which drew blood. Again my mum was present in the kitchen, which was located next to the living room but did not observe the abuse. On entering the living room and noticing the scar a few minutes later she enquired what had caused it. At this point in time I don’t recollect whether Colin put the lie into my mouth or whether I concocted the story in order to avoid further abuse. In any case I informed my mum that I had cut myself with a chipped mug, a version of events she accepted.  
At times I thought that I was going to die. No small boy likes washing but I used to dread bathing due to Colin’s own unique method of assisting me to wash. This consisted of holding my head under the water so that my nose and mouth filled and I felt as though I was going to die. I would emerge, terrified coughing and spluttering.
Colin obviously derived tremendous pleasure from half suffocating me. On numerous occasions he would place a cushion or pillow over my face and hold it there until I felt that I was about to die. Years later when I attended counselling with the mental health charity Mind, the counsellor asked me why I thought that Colin had not killed me? I replied that he probably derived more pleasure from having a living child to torment than he would have gained had he murdered me. Also, had he murdered me the prospect of detection and Colin spending a long period in prison would, I said have acted as a disincentive to  him taking my life. .  
Colin was a sadist. In adition to systematically abusing me he also abused my mum. I remember him hitting her on a regular basis and on at least one occasion pushing her down the stairs. He was (and is) a ******* of the first order.
Colin didn’t confine his cruelty to people. I recall him flinging the family cat at me. The poor animal stuck out it’s claws to gain purchase with the result that it scratched my face badly. Like all bullies Colin was, at bottom a coward. I never once saw him abuse the family dog. I am sure that this was not out of any affection for the animal, rather it stemmed from the fear that had he done so the dog would, quite naturally have bitten it’s tormentor in self defence. Oh how I wished that the dog had sunk his teeth into Colin.          

Chapter 5

We all have nightmares. As a young boy one of my recurring bad dreams concerned being chased by a hoover. To anyone unfamiliar with the abuse inflicted on me the relating of my dream will, no doubt result in mirth. However my nightmare was no laughing matter as to me the vacuum cleaner was a thing of terror. We owned an upright hoover which Colin would, periodically place on my head while the motor was running. I well recall the terror as the wheels of the machine ran across my head. Colin was nothing if not inventive as in addition to putting a working vacuum cleaner on my head he also made me hold the machine above my head. My arms would ache terribly but I dare not put the hoover down until ordered to do so by Colin. For many years following the ending of the abuse “the chasing hoover dream”, as I refered to it stubbornly refused to go away. While the nightmare no longer plagues my sleeping brain, whenever I use a vacuum cleaner the recollection of a terrified little child being tortured by a hoover comes back to me.
In another of my childhood nightmares I would enter the spare bedroom only to be grabbed by a clicking monster which wrapped it’s hands around my neck attempting to strangle me.
Colin choked me on numerous occasions. One incident remains vividly imprinted on my memory. It was evening and my mum, sister, Colin and I sat in the living room. All of the family accept for me where watching television. I was listening to a talking book about a footballer which contained many amusing stories. I laughed uproariously throughout much of the book. Later on that evening, following the departure of my mum and sister to bed Colin choked me telling me never to laugh like that again as I had “disturbed” people. As I recall Colin’s strangling of me the old terrors reassert themselves. At the time I felt that I had, perhaps done something wrong. However the logical part of my brain told me that I had done nothing whatever to justify Colin’s barbaric treatment of me. He ought to have gone to prison for that incident alone. He was (and remains) the personification of evil to me. To this day I can, on occasions feel self conscious about giving in to the natural desire to laugh at a great joke when in the company of friends. I can (and do) let myself go and laugh uproariously but Colin remains in the background, like Banquo’s ghost putting a dampener on the feast.

Chapter 6

Colin possessed considerable charm which is, perhaps how he came to entrap my mum into marrying him. I remember sitting around the dinner table with guests present and Colin holding forth on Charles Darwin amongst other topics. Although not university educated Colin was by no means unintelligent and could, if one was unfamiliar with his propensity to abuse, appear to be charm itself, a man whom it would be a pleasure to have over for dinner.      

Colin possessed the capacity to make people laugh which he used to devastating effect when making barbed comments at the expense of my mum. I hated him for his comments but laughed none the less which is proof of the idea that hostages frequently try to please their captors by forming some kind of relationship with them. I can not at this juncture in my life recall in detail how, precisely Colin undermined the confidence of my mum, I suspect that this inability on my part stems from the fact that I was, quite naturally concerned with my own suffering and the abuse perpetrated on my mum was of secondary concern. My own pain preoccupied me. I had little time for that of others.

Chapter 7

My counsellor and my dear friend, Barry have raised the issue as to whether my mum was aware of the abuse to which Colin was subjecting me. I have thought about this question long and hard and I still can not provide a categoric answer. I am sure that my mum never actually observed Colin in the act of abusing me. She was, as explained in the forgoing chapters, never in the same room when the abuse took place. The fact that her son showed a profound disinclination to be alone with Colin should though have caused alarm bells to start ringing. Colin was clever. The only time I can recollect when he caused me to bare a physical manifestation of abuse was the incident of the chipped cup related earlier. On all other occasions the marks where deep psychological wounds not visible to the casual observer.
I have tried discussing the abuse with my mum. Her reaction has osilated between stating that the abuse occurred a long time ago and that I ought to forgive and forget, to questioning whether it did, in fact take place. My gut feeling is that my mum does not doubt my veracity. The anger she manifested on discovering that I had informed my wife of the abuse perpetrated by Colin demonstrates that she does not doubt me.
Shortly prior to my wife and I separating we went to stay with my mum and sister. One morning my mum, my daughter and I went for a walk during the course of which my mum received a call from my sister. Janet said that my wife, Louise had told her that I had informed Louise of the abuse to which I had been subjected to by Colin. My mum rounded on me asking “why the hell I had told Louise about the abuse”. There ensued a blazing argument during which my mum hit me. On returning home the argument continued with Janet stating that I should talk to Colin about the situation. The fact that Janet did not defend Colin and state that he couldn’t, possibly have abused me indicates that she was, to some extent aware of the abuse.
I love my mum deeply and have no doubt that she loves me. Yet whenever we are together the elephant in the room (Colin) stands between us, seen by both but mentioned by neither. In my case I fear the eruption of a blazing argument. I have always shyed away from arguments which is, I suspect down to me having grown up in a family in which vilence and arguments where commonplace. As a small boy I developed strategies for minimising the likelyhood of being abused. My main strategy was to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. I became a master at sitting quietly, not speaking unless I was spoken to and doing everything in my power not to antagonise Colin. While I don’t fear being physically abused by my mum I shrink in terror at the prospect of a verbal tyraid eminating from her.
In my mum’s case she does, I believe feel guilty due to her not having protected her son from Colin. The fact that she refuses to discuss the abuse to which I was subjected shows her inability to acknowledge to me her own sense of culpability at her failure to prevent Colin’s behaviour. On at least one occasion my mum has told me that the abuse could not have taken place as, if it had she would have been aware of it. This is contradicted by her statement (refered to earlier) that it was a long time ago and I ought to “forgive and forget”. Both statements can not be correct and in her heart of hearts my mum knows that I am telling the truth, she lacks the courage to admit her own failings and apologise to me.      

Chapter 8

At this distance in time I can not pinpoint the precise point at which the physical abuse stopped. At some indeterminate point (I think during my early teens) I began to challenge Colin’s behaviour. I remember wishing to join a social club and Colin informing me that I could not do so. Full of fear and trepidation I said that I would join to
Nomkhumbulwa Jan 2019
I am sorry mum
for everything,
For who I am,
For what i've done.

I am sorry mum,
For everything,
For what im not,
What I havent done.

I am sorry mum,
For staying away,
For being with friends,
For being far away.

I am sorry mum,
That I am ugly,
For what I wear,
For the state of my hair.

I am sorry mum,
That my opinions are wrong,
That I spoke without asking,
For the things that I know.

I am sorry mum,
That you think I dont care,
That I have upset the family,
That they never wanted me there.

I am sorry mum,
That you couldnt love me,
That I wasnt normal,
That other people like me.

I am sorry mum,
That I have expressed things,
That I have dropped things,
Caused a mess in your home.

I am sorry mum
That I wanted to study,
That I liked being outside,
And that I looked untidy.

I am sorry mum,
That Im an embarrassment,
Have caused so much shame,
And that I cause you pain.

I am sorry mum,
That im always a disappointment,
Showed you my photos of Africa,
I know now that I shouldnt.

I am sorry mum,
That I didnt have the right friends,
That I didnt wear enough make-up,
That I read about Science, not fame.

I am sorry mum,
For being vegetarian,
For picking out bits of meat,
In front of everyone.

I am sorry mum,
For when I didnt know what i'd done,
And you had to stand on my foot,
Or pinch me ******* my arm.

I am sorry mum,
For going walking,
For not doing house work instead,
Or finding something else to be done.

I am sorry mum,
For my work with charities,
For my love for Africa,
For feeling there so free.

I am sorry mum,
For having weird phobias,
And letting you down,
By mentioning it to others.

I am sorry mum,
That I struggle with Maths,
For being dyscalculaic,
I know this is bad.

I am sorry mum
For causing you sickness,
And for not being there,
I know it looks like I dont care.

I am sorry mum
For upsetting others,
Being the cause of all problems,
And hurting my brother.

I am sorry mum,
For my choice of work,
For the places i've been to,
For not always putting you first.

I am sorry mum,
That I made you so angry,
You had to hit me in the face,
And I made you go to bed unhappy.

I am sorry mum,
That I was quiet in school,
That Claire was my best friend,
That we were both quiet in school.

I am sorry mum,
That I chose Scotland,
For moving far away,
It cannot be forgiven.

I am sorry mum,
For my musical instruments,
I know I dont play them well,
That I gave you a headache instead.

I am sorry mum,
That I played the violin,
At my brothers wedding,
For you- ruining everything.

I am sorry mum,
That i;ve never been good enough,
That I always let you down,
I am just never good enough.

I am sorry mum,
For speaking about family,
For letting you down again,
And the family.

I am sorry mum
That I struggled so much,
You had to put chilli in my mouth,
As I couldnt do my homework.

I am sorry mum,
That I went "home"
That I let the **** happen,
That I spoiled your "name".

I am sorry mum,
That I do not love you,
I have cursed myself and tried,
But I cannot love you.

But I still hear your voice,
And it tortures me still,
And the thought of your anger,
Still gives me chills.

I am so sorry mum,
That I am a failure,
But I am no longer "Emma"...
...I am "Nomkhumbulwa"....
Back to the depressing style sorry :(  This could have been much longer, but think ive bored people enough.  If you can understand it, then thanks.
the allan family story, ——— what is happening with brian





you see brian was looking forward to going to the carols in sydney and he decided

to sit in the VIP seats and pay the $99 and get ready to have a good night and then

brian’s mum got a email saying that brian isn’t welcome at this years carols and if he

comes he will be removed from the event, and this worried brian’s mother because

she worried that it was to do what brian was doing on the internet, brian said, i don’t think

it was that, and then the past and her beliefs really caught her eye, brian wanted to still go

and watch the carols on TV, and go on the Manly ferry and head down to bondi beach anyway

and enjoy getting room service, brian was worried about his past coming back to hurt them

but Sydney are dealing with a lot will all the terrorist attacks they have, and brian’s mum was

worried, but brian still wanted to go to sydney and not go to the carols

because he isn’t going to cause problems for sydney security guards treating him like a hooligan

and thrown out, but half in brian’s mind was his mother was teasing him by saying this to protect

brian from the problems in sydney, but brian is unaware of that, so he wanted to still go to sydney

because he loves looking around places he doesn’t get to normally, so brian is still going to go, because

if that is true, you can’t wrap him in cotton wool forever, brian told his mum, that he doesn’t cause problems for

anybody and it will be a nice weekend in sydney, and every time brian gets up, he is being pushed into being

a little yeah mate yeah kid, brian prefers to do his writing and enjoy going to the hotel is sydney and spend money

on lunch dinner and breakfast, and if brian’s mum worries about brian brian will tell her to lighten up because

the voices were the problem, and brian’s mum worried that brian will take it the wrong way, but brian remembers

that his mum said that he can’t handle Facebook or twitter, but brian told his mum that he can handle Facebook and twitter

because he doesn’t friend or defriend anyone and brian’s mum told brian that she worries that his past will catch up with you

because people hate attackers of kids and they don’t understand why you did it and brian doesn’t want his mum involved

with him on Facebook because the stories he writes could upset her, you see brian’s mum is nice to him but she gets emotional

mainly because she tries and be nice to people and brian, a son of her is being told to stay away from the families, but what brian’s mum

doesn’t understand, brian needs to do what he does online, and he has his school mates and family planted in his head saying brian needs to do this

and every time brian talks to his mum, he has a great conversation, but when something like this happens, brian feels the cotton wool treatment coming

it’s the same when brian toasts his art and activities with champagne, his mum worries like crazy, yeah, brian thought, the cotton wool treatment again

but brian loves his mum and he wants to go to the stage ’88 carols with her, so they can sing carols and have a picnic and enjoy the show

as a buddhist brian will respect her but it’s hard to do what she says, going to sydney will be fun for him and brian does find it hard to be an adult with mum

ya know the kind of adult who really loves life, sometimes it’s hard when brian really loves christmas carols and will want to see all the christmas carols

brian can get there by bus and brian does get a bit hyped up at carols, but still, that is no reason to keep brian away from the carols, now is it

sometimes brian lately has lifted up his voice like a real man as he sings his carols, you see brian’s mum tells brian he should listen or look like you listen

if you really want respect of this town, brian’s mum pays for all his dental bills because brian is a poor man and has problems trying to battle with mental health

this christmas brian is taking his mum to the carols and on christmas eve, brian and his mum will have a 2 person christmas party with lucky dips and watching

the muppet family christmas and watch the melbourne carols by candlelight, yeah brian said, christmas this year with his mum will be fun and cool, after all brian

is 46, so nightclubs are too young for him.
Pea Oct 2016
Mum and dad look, i have a poem
It is a poem I've written and kept and hidden
It is a poem I'll get mad about if you take a peek
Mum and dad look. I have a poem
I honestly hate to mention you in my poem
I don't want any of you be in any of my poem
Mum and dad look. I have a poem
This poem is not for you, mum and dad
This poem is not about you, mum and dad
Why would you think i would sacrifice a poem for you. Mum and dad?
Why would you think i would keep you safely in the blanket of my fluffy words. Mum and dad?

Mum and dad look. I have a poem
I wrote my first poem at 4 and it wasn't about you so you were sad but you did not want to admit it so you made fun of me, right?
Mum and dad look, i have a poem
Mum and dad look. It is not only one poem
I have hundreds and hundreds poems. Mum and dad
Mum and dad look
Those are what I've written all these years
Those are what I've kept from you all these years
Those are what I've hidden from your eyes and mother tongues
Please
Just misunderstand me. It's enough
My english is irrelevant. Leave it alone
Mum and dad. Look i have a poem
Mum and dad look i have a poem
I have a
Mum and dad will you read my poems?
Mum and dad will you misunderstand them again and again just like what you do to me?

Mum and dad. Look i have
Mum and dad look i have
Mum and dad look i have

a poem
MUM AND DAD LOOK I HAVE A POEM
Its tough to bring up a child on your own



You ser Roalyn joan Parkse was a single mum who every day, struggled
Through life, trying to raise her 3 year old daughter Katie, you see Katie's father
Was a ******, and yes,,Roslyn was ***** into being pregnant, she wanted an abortion
At first,,but then she was thnkimg, she always wanted to be a mum, so she decided to take
The risk and give birth to her daughter, but it's hard because, every day she went out
She kept looking at her daughter,,and then she'll have a horrible thought, that, what if,,she
Met her ****** again,,and she made a pact not to tell Katie who her real father is, mainly
Because, Roslyn wanted to make sure that Katie knows that she loves her.
The day after Roslyn gave birth to Katie, the father was sentenced to 45 years gaol, and
When Roslym heard that, she was relieved, because she can be at peace, and that made her live her life, making sure Katie is protected.
Roslym had her hands full trying to juggle raising her baby, on the little bit of money that the government gives her with the baby bonus, and she was told she wasn't eligible for any type of pension,,but if she, is willing to sit in on an interview with the men at centrelink, she might be able to receive the single mothers pension in 5 months, and Roslyn was a bit hostile about sitting in on an interview because, that's how her life with Katie's father was,
You see, Roslyn's parents hated Katie's father because they knew that he was bad news, and another thing too, they also knew that he was capable of anything.
You see Roslyn, as a child was easily led into any relationship, and also she was easily to be taken advantage of, and even if Katie's father appeared nice to her, he really was a really horrible man.
You see he started to muck with Roslyn, to keep her away from the family, and then when
He did that successfully, he will lure her into his bedroom,,and make sure that Roslyn was unaware of what he was putting her through, when Roslyn started to see sense, he gave her an illegal drug, which he said was a panadol after trying to calm her down, yes,  go felt better, but she was under a stupid dillusion that Katie's father was Mr Wonderful.
But she was drugged when she was showing signs of understanding that she is in the wrong relationship.
Roslyn's parents were frantic, as they were really worried that Roslyn was not calling .
them, and even when Roslyn's father died when she was 25, Roslyn was given another illegal drug to make Roslyn be really spaced out, so she can be too out of it, to attend her father's funeral.
And despite Roslyn's mother worrying why her own daughter wouldn't go to her daddy's funeral, she started to worry, and went on a mission to try and find and rescue her daughter, because, she was thinking that this is stupid, this horrible man, whose name was Jack Robsrts, was trying to force her daughter just to keep away from being a family person.
And when she eventually found Roslyn, of course when she knocked on the door, and Javk answered it, and when he saw Roslyn's mum standing there, he tried to shut the door into her face but as he did that, Roslyn's mum, used what she learnt in self defence class,,and knocked him out with one punch and she went straight up to the top bedroom and there she found Roslyn spaced out on the illegal drugs that Jack gave her, and when she was bringing her down the stairs, Jack got up and then grabbed the nearest knife and decided to hold a little hostage situation, but Jack was unaware that Roslyn's mum called the police, and despite the police sitting outside Jack's house for 2 hours,,they finally rescued Roslyn and her mum, from Jacks evil clutches, and they were put into an ambulance to be checked over, while Jack was arrested and yes as we told you, he was sentenced to 45 years behind bars,,but as Roslyn was being checked out by the doctors, which they saw she was drugged and also she was pregnant, and despite having an argument with her mother about it,,she decided to do what she wants and keep the baby,  because, Roslyn knew as long as Katie was unaware of who her real father was while being young, everything will be alright.
But her life was a complete nightmare, trying to raise Katie, always looking over her shoulder making sure that nobody was following her, and even though Roslym tried to keep a brave face, she was really suffering, looking after her baby, and she started to wish she
Listened to her mum when she said to have an abortion, but she wanted Katie to be unaware of how she really felt.
Each birthday that Katie had, Roslyn tried to make sure that Katie had heaps of friends to play with, and her first birthday Roslyn thought it was cute that Katie was doing baby talk with all her little friends, and she tried to make Katie feel so special, on her first birthday, and since then Roslyn struggled through life, trying to juggle her social chit chat with friends as well as giving her mum babysitting duties,,yes she started to feel good about her decision to keep Katie and at Christmas Roslyn met a man, and because of her track record with men, her mum was concerned even if she had met him and thinks he s charming but so was Jack, but that's in the past and Roslyn's mum told herself to trust her daughters man, and not think about Jack, because it will be good to have a father for Katie, so she kept it under her hat.
And on Katie's second birthday, yes she had a party and yes she made a lot of new friends, and Roslyn was happy because she was fooling around with her new man, whose name was Kenneth Kopland, and Kenneth asked Roslyn for her hand in marriage and Roslyn accepted, and when she told her mum, she tried to keep a brave face, hoping that she wssn't about to make a big mistake.
And 3 days before the wedding in November of that year,,Roslyn heard that Jack had escaped from prison with a couple of inmates and she was so worried she told her mum and despite days of putting it off, she eventually told Kenneth who made Roslyn feel protected by this man, and he told her, Roslyn, just stick with me, and you'll be safe, and after her honeymoon and then Christmas where  Kenneth dressed up as Santa for Katie and on New years eve, Roslyn was pregnant, with her second child but she was still worried that Jack was out to get her, and when Roslyn was out with her girlfriends, Jack noticed her with a little girl who looks like it could be his, but because she wouldn't touch him with a 30 foot pole, he had two arrange a little hostage situation for her,,and mate, if Jack doesn't get what he wants, he will ****.
So the day before Katie's third birthday, Roslyn and Kenneth were getting ready to go
To New York to visit Kenneth's parents but while they were doing that, Jack paid a little visit on Roslyn's mum, where he held her hostage, untill she tells him where Roslyn lives, and after 4 hours of yelling at Jack to leave her be, she told a little white lie, that Roslyn died in hospital that day, and then Jack left, knowing she was lying, but he will plan this little situation for her and then in a couple more weeks when Roslyn returned to her home town,
With Katie and Kenneth, Jack saw Roslyn in the car, and decided to follow her and yes he knew exactly where she lived now,,and it was only,a matter of time for him to make his move.
And the next day, Kenneth left for work, and Roslyn stayed at home and just kept an eye and it wasn't till she decided to go for a little walk,,she noticed Jack, and she suddenly let out a big scream and then had a yelling match, till Jack got out his pistol and shot at Roslyn, hitting her right in her chest and then kidnapped his daughter Katie, but after 3 hours of searching, the police found Jack nursing Katie at a railway station and the arrested Jack and put him back in prison and 3 hours later, Roslyn had passed away and she lost her baby as well and this made Roslyn 's mother and husband very scared as they move in to help raise Katie together because Kenneth didn't want to give her up, and when Katie was,,she was told the truth about her mother and father, and when Roslyn's mum passed away, Katie read the horrific story of how much pain her mum suffered being ***** back then, and after her grandmas funeral, she lived happily ever after with Kenneth and his new woman Josephine.
Its tough to bring up a child on your own



You ser Roalyn joan Parkse was a single mum who every day, struggled
Through life, trying to raise her 3 year old daughter Katie, you see Katie's father
Was a ******, and yes,,Roslyn was ***** into being pregnant, she wanted an abortion
At first,,but then she was thnkimg, she always wanted to be a mum, so she decided to take
The risk and give birth to her daughter, but it's hard because, every day she went out
She kept looking at her daughter,,and then she'll have a horrible thought, that, what if,,she
Met her ****** again,,and she made a pact not to tell Katie who her real father is, mainly
Because, Roslyn wanted to make sure that Katie knows that she loves her.
The day after Roslyn gave birth to Katie, the father was sentenced to 45 years gaol, and
When Roslym heard that, she was relieved, because she can be at peace, and that made her live her life, making sure Katie is protected.
Roslym had her hands full trying to juggle raising her baby, on the little bit of money that the government gives her with the baby bonus, and she was told she wasn't eligible for any type of pension,,but if she, is willing to sit in on an interview with the men at centrelink, she might be able to receive the single mothers pension in 5 months, and Roslyn was a bit hostile about sitting in on an interview because, that's how her life with Katie's father was,
You see, Roslyn's parents hated Katie's father because they knew that he was bad news, and another thing too, they also knew that he was capable of anything.
You see Roslyn, as a child was easily led into any relationship, and also she was easily to be taken advantage of, and even if Katie's father appeared nice to her, he really was a really horrible man.
You see he started to muck with Roslyn, to keep her away from the family, and then when
He did that successfully, he will lure her into his bedroom,,and make sure that Roslyn was unaware of what he was putting her through, when Roslyn started to see sense, he gave her an illegal drug, which he said was a panadol after trying to calm her down, yes,  go felt better, but she was under a stupid dillusion that Katie's father was Mr Wonderful.
But she was drugged when she was showing signs of understanding that she is in the wrong relationship.
Roslyn's parents were frantic, as they were really worried that Roslyn was not calling .
them, and even when Roslyn's father died when she was 25, Roslyn was given another illegal drug to make Roslyn be really spaced out, so she can be too out of it, to attend her father's funeral.
And despite Roslyn's mother worrying why her own daughter wouldn't go to her daddy's funeral, she started to worry, and went on a mission to try and find and rescue her daughter, because, she was thinking that this is stupid, this horrible man, whose name was Jack Robsrts, was trying to force her daughter just to keep away from being a family person.
And when she eventually found Roslyn, of course when she knocked on the door, and Javk answered it, and when he saw Roslyn's mum standing there, he tried to shut the door into her face but as he did that, Roslyn's mum, used what she learnt in self defence class,,and knocked him out with one punch and she went straight up to the top bedroom and there she found Roslyn spaced out on the illegal drugs that Jack gave her, and when she was bringing her down the stairs, Jack got up and then grabbed the nearest knife and decided to hold a little hostage situation, but Jack was unaware that Roslyn's mum called the police, and despite the police sitting outside Jack's house for 2 hours,,they finally rescued Roslyn and her mum, from Jacks evil clutches, and they were put into an ambulance to be checked over, while Jack was arrested and yes as we told you, he was sentenced to 45 years behind bars,,but as Roslyn was being checked out by the doctors, which they saw she was drugged and also she was pregnant, and despite having an argument with her mother about it,,she decided to do what she wants and keep the baby,  because, Roslyn knew as long as Katie was unaware of who her real father was while being young, everything will be alright.
But her life was a complete nightmare, trying to raise Katie, always looking over her shoulder making sure that nobody was following her, and even though Roslym tried to keep a brave face, she was really suffering, looking after her baby, and she started to wish she
Listened to her mum when she said to have an abortion, but she wanted Katie to be unaware of how she really felt.
Each birthday that Katie had, Roslyn tried to make sure that Katie had heaps of friends to play with, and her first birthday Roslyn thought it was cute that Katie was doing baby talk with all her little friends, and she tried to make Katie feel so special, on her first birthday, and since then Roslyn struggled through life, trying to juggle her social chit chat with friends as well as giving her mum babysitting duties,,yes she started to feel good about her decision to keep Katie and at Christmas Roslyn met a man, and because of her track record with men, her mum was concerned even if she had met him and thinks he s charming but so was Jack, but that's in the past and Roslyn's mum told herself to trust her daughters man, and not think about Jack, because it will be good to have a father for Katie, so she kept it under her hat.
And on Katie's second birthday, yes she had a party and yes she made a lot of new friends, and Roslyn was happy because she was fooling around with her new man, whose name was Kenneth Kopland, and Kenneth asked Roslyn for her hand in marriage and Roslyn accepted, and when she told her mum, she tried to keep a brave face, hoping that she wssn't about to make a big mistake.
And 3 days before the wedding in November of that year,,Roslyn heard that Jack had escaped from prison with a couple of inmates and she was so worried she told her mum and despite days of putting it off, she eventually told Kenneth who made Roslyn feel protected by this man, and he told her, Roslyn, just stick with me, and you'll be safe, and after her honeymoon and then Christmas where  Kenneth dressed up as Santa for Katie and on New years eve, Roslyn was pregnant, with her second child but she was still worried that Jack was out to get her, and when Roslyn was out with her girlfriends, Jack noticed her with a little girl who looks like it could be his, but because she wouldn't touch him with a 30 foot pole, he had two arrange a little hostage situation for her,,and mate, if Jack doesn't get what he wants, he will ****.
So the day before Katie's third birthday, Roslyn and Kenneth were getting ready to go
To New York to visit Kenneth's parents but while they were doing that, Jack paid a little visit on Roslyn's mum, where he held her hostage, untill she tells him where Roslyn lives, and after 4 hours of yelling at Jack to leave her be, she told a little white lie, that Roslyn died in hospital that day, and then Jack left, knowing she was lying, but he will plan this little situation for her and then in a couple more weeks when Roslyn returned to her home town,
With Katie and Kenneth, Jack saw Roslyn in the car, and decided to follow her and yes he knew exactly where she lived now,,and it was only,a matter of time for him to make his move.
And the next day, Kenneth left for work, and Roslyn stayed at home and just kept an eye and it wasn't till she decided to go for a little walk,,she noticed Jack, and she suddenly let out a big scream and then had a yelling match, till Jack got out his pistol and shot at Roslyn, hitting her right in her chest and then kidnapped his daughter Katie, but after 3 hours of searching, the police found Jack nursing Katie at a railway station and the arrested Jack and put him back in prison and 3 hours later, Roslyn had passed away and she lost her baby as well and this made Roslyn 's mother and husband very scared as they move in to help raise Katie together because Kenneth didn't want to give her up, and when Katie was,,she was told the truth about her mother and father, and when Roslyn's mum passed away, Katie read the horrific story of how much pain her mum suffered being ***** back then, and after her grandmas funeral, she lived happily ever after with Kenneth and his new woman Josephine.
Michaela Ferris Aug 2015
Mum, please, I need you to listen.
I'm not trying to make something out of nothing,
I'm just fighting with my mind and I feel lonely.
Mum, please, I do not mean to be a burden
But I'm locked inside my own thoughts
And I can no longer escape,
For you see my depression is controlling me.
Some days it is like a tiny fly
The next it swallows me into its icy shadow.
These days mum are the days I long to die.
You say it's selfish and cowardly to want to die
But please, it's not so much that I want to die,
It's just I don't want to live.
Mum, these days I am held prisoner inside my own bed.
You say I'm just being typically lazy
But I'm not trying to be.
I'm just afraid that if I get up I will drown within everything I long to forget.
Mum, please... Just listen to me.
You say I should get out more, see my friends
So I try like I know I should want to
But I wish for them to cancel these plans
For my anxiety torments my mind
And claws at my chest.
You ask where anxiety... another problem came from?
Yes mum, anxiety teaming up with depression
Increasing my many fears that haunt manipulate my life.
They come along as if to a party
Mum I am that party
Only this a party I do not want to attend.
At the end of the day I am tired of fighting with myself
And once more depression beckons me to my bed
Cradling my spent body until I once again feel numb.
Mum, please this is not to do with you.
You ask me why I'm too busy to stop and enjoy life
But I am never truly busy
I just mean I'm trying to keep distracted
Because I am lonely and feel isolated.
You say you cannot see where this has came from
Well, mum, neither do I!
You always say be more mire positive
Oh how I have tried but am always reminded of things I want to forget.
You've said light a candle to eliminate the dark
But I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of living!
Maybe this is part of the problem.
Mum, please I'm begging you to listen
I'm so scared that I cannot find my way back out.
You say you don't know what else to do.
Neither do I.
I'm lost and I cannot come back.
Mum, please, I just want you to be there when I need you!
SarahJane Apr 2019
My Demons are trying to taunt me mum, I constantly feel them pushing through. Maybe it's caused by the way I feel, maybe it's because I miss you.

I miss you every day mum, with every beat of my heart. Although I always knew the day would come, the day we had to part.

I never thought you would leave so soon, I wasn't even 30 and you were gone. You never should of left mum, it's here where you belong.

You will always hold a place in my heart, please believe that this is true. Ill always hold a happy place, I can go to think of you.

I cannot seem to grieve mum, nearly two years I have tried. My pain won't seem to get easier mum, it's still as sore as the day you died.

I wish I could stop the pain mum, and just remember the great memories so true. Of love and laughter and dancing round the house, the crazy times just me and you.

I'd love someone to help me, make the bad thoughts and Demons go away, and help me focus on the good memories forever every day.

There are days I have good thoughts, from memories over the years. The ones that make me laugh and smile, yet still bring me to tears.

Before I go on I have to share, a few memories that make me smile. One's that help me through a bad day, even just for a little while.

I remember snowball fights in winter, back walking in the summer. Coming home soaked and covered in mum, then going back and doing it over.

I remember you shouting and laughing at me, soaked and covered in mud those days when I came home. Making me sit outside til I dried off, looking like a little garden gnome.

I remember being in Scarborough and walking with you and dad, making sylvester speech sounds making you laugh so bad.

I remember you lent over, laughing so hard out loud, those days we had were magical, u always looked at me so proud.

You're other little girl is getting married mum, I can't believe it's true, she knows you will be there with her mum, she really misses you.

She knows you will be with her, when she walks down the Isle, she knows you're there in spirit mum, watching with pride and a smile.

I'm trying to push my life forward mum, I hope that you can see, and when the day comes that I get married mum, I hope you are there with me.

I'm going to write off now mum, i really need to sleep, ill see you in my dreams mum, with the memories I keep.

Goodnight, godbless, sleep well mum.
I love you oh so true,
Sending love and kisses to the stars,
Sent from me to you.

I love you mum xxxx
Perri May 2015
Dear mum,
I was aware that you were hesitant with me
I could sense it since I was new.
I still have dreams of being suffocated, mum.
I always wonder if this is because of you.

Dear mum,
at the age of three, you gave a little brother to me
But I knew I'd starve for your attention.
How I wish you could have noticed my sorrow, mum.
How could you ignore my desperation?

Dear mum,
as time passed on,
I knew I was alway second, mum
you liked to make it obvious,
something I never could grasp,
one of my most difficult conundrums.
I longed for your love, never to receive
but instead shame and guilt
you would bring down on me.
Your words more painful than your hands, mum,
as brother would watch with a smirk.
the missing comfort of a mothers love
I knew if I wanted it, I would have to work.

Dear mum,
I am a young woman now
and I am tired of trying to prove to you
the things you seem to be unable to see
the smart, caring person I have grown into.
Now that you are older mum,
I have little to give to you.
Now you are starving for MY love, mum
and I don't think thats something I can do.

I pray one day you won't be so ignorant, mum,
of the things you continue to put me through.
I hope soon I will be good enough
so I can learn to love you too.
Going down to sizzlers,   (the sizzler song)



Come on mum and dad, don't be a tease
I do a lot of cooking, so why don't you grab the car keys
You see mum, there is no need to cook
And dad,,there is no need to book
Yeah we can have a lot of fun at sizzler, yeah
You see dad will have a steak
Mum will have a break, I prefer all you can eat
So I can eat myself stupid, man
So while dad is enjoying his steak, yes, he
Says it's so melt in the mouth
And I am fucken feeding my face, and looking like a loser, yeah
I first would have a plate of prawns, yeah I liked that,,yeah
And then I will have a savoury dip and special kind of crackers
And then I'll try a garlic bread and pasta, yeah
After that, when normal people give up
I will have ice cream and jelly and pancakes too
I will also try the nice chocolate mousse and healthy yoghurt
Oh yeah that's so nice, and listen mum, you shouldn't be a tease
Cause we can have a good meal at sizzler, please
And mum and dad enjoyed their meal, and they knew when to stop
But for about 20 minutes I was in the toilets spewing like crazy , oh yeah
My mum and dad were worried, and it got them all stressed
But the stupid vomiting won't actually stop
And when I felt a bit better I left the toilets
And mum and dad took me home because to them it was embarrassing
And on the way home I felt like vomiting again
And mum and dad stopped the car, so I can ***** it out
And I was there for about another 20 more minutes
And mum and dad said, come on, son, it's cold and we want to get home to the warm
And when I finished, I got back home, and it was a laugh a minute at sizzler yeah
You see dad enjoyed the steak, and mum enjoyed a break
And I think there should be a law against all you can eat places
Because all you can eat, is a bit of a tease
I was going down to sizzlers to ***** in the toilet, oh yeah
Oscar Sep 2018
Dear mum,
Sleep doesn’t come easy to a kid like me,
My bones ache for the adventure I can’t yet live,
My mind is restless with constant thoughts of what could and can’t be.
Though, I’m sure your body is much overcome with slumber and rest
In peace, they say, you’re sleeping with the angels and you’re in a better place.

Mum, what is this better place?
Is the grass green, the sky blue and the sun beaming down?
Are oceans left alone, divided from the pollution our kind has cursed the seas to live with?
Do people shoot smiles instead of bullets?

Mum, since you left a lot has changed
Your little girl, once happy and hopeful, is left awake without you
Her eyes, your eyes, are no longer bright and full of love;
Now her eyes are pained and dull,
the only light you see is when she looks into the moon in search of you.
You, Mum. You. You. You.

Mum, ten years since you were laid to rest!
Ten years, three counsellors and billions of tears smeared into pillows at three am.
Your daughter, your bright young girl, feels alone in the night because her mother decayed
And let smoking corrupt her lung, she let smoke cloud her once pure soul and her mother
Had to go to a better place.
Anger. Rage. A tornado inside a little girl’s head because her mother is no longer here
She doesn’t know where this better place is, but each night
she lies awake and looks at the moon and she hopes her eyes are in the right direction
because she’s talking to her mother and her mother isn’t talking back, but at least she feels
a connection.

Dear mum, why did you leave me?
Dear mum, I’m all alone and I miss you.
Dear mum, I hope the better place has flowers because I know how much you loved them.
Dear mum, I love you
Backstory:
my mum died when i was little, she meant the world to me; she had lung cancer. i've had a lot of pent up anger at my mum for a while, she continued to smoke after being told not to and i've had anger at the doctors, the doctors that allowed her to do so. i was so young at the time, i love my mum and i miss her to death. truth is, i've felt pretty bummed at how my mum hasn't seen me grow up and i wrote this
PROLOGUE
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I should say something. No. This is the easiest way… the right way to say goodbye. Who am I kidding? This is definitely not the right way to say goodbye. I twist my key in the door; it’s always been a ****** to lock. After I manage it, I turn and set off down my street. The Parcel sitting in my crossed arms. I feel calm today. Unusually calm. I can’t figure out if it’s because it was my birthday yesterday and I am now 17, because it’s my favourite weather (sunny with a slight breeze) or because in 24 hours, I won’t be here to feel it anymore. I try to look confident as I walk into the post office. Non-suspicious. I don’t want the post-office lady thinking I look suicidal, breaking into my parcel, then calling the loony-bin and throwing me in there. “No-one cares enough to do that” I remind myself under my breath. I jump when the bell goes off as I open the door. ****. I forgot about that. Luckily, there is no-one at the counter to see my little moment that I am sure made me look more than on-edge, and I have to hit the bell twice before the short, wispy haired woman pops her head around the corner, followed by her unhealthily-large body. I place the parcel on the counter and tell her I need it delivered first class, so that it reaches where I need it to first thing tomorrow morning. I’ve only ever been in here once before; to post a letter to my brother’s primary school, pretending to be my Mum allowing him a day off school. I was full of excitement that day, making all of these plans in my head for what we would do on our ‘adventure day’. I can’t make any plans today. After the woman has taken my parcel, I turn and walk back out the door, taking note of the bell again. I realise that this may be one of the last noticeable sounds I hear.


LETTER 1
Ok, so you’ve seen the return name and address on this envelope, so you know who this is from and you are probably definitely wondering why I’ve sent you this… So before you read on, let me explain. I’m writing to you because we aren’t very close, and you can listen and understand what I have to say, without being objective to anything. You don’t know me very well, but I know you. I’ve watched you in class and seen how you are and the way you do things, and it inspires (sorry) inspired me. I don’t mean to be blunt, but everyone knows about what happened to you… well, yeah... But, I just want to ask, how did you deal with that? How did you manage to stay so strong even at the worst of times? I couldn’t, and my problems shouldn’t have even been in the same district of pain as yours. I wish I could have come to you earlier... I know you will be thinking that. ‘Why ask me this now that it’s too late?’ but I made my decision a long time ago and I just wanted you to know all of this, even now that you can’t answer me any of it. You see, things just got too much. And I know people say that all the time. But I really can’t handle being inside my head anymore. It’s hard to make sense of anything at all, everything is just so confusing. It’s like, I have the sense in my head that is telling me what is logical and right, but it is completely drowned out by all the other **** that tells me otherwise. And I can’t do it anymore. I’m so sick of being confused and miserable. I just want to die. And by the time you read this letter, I will have done.
The thought of suicide first entered my head about two years ago now. It was always more of a back-of-the-mind thought, never a solid plan; until a couple of months ago. That was when I decided it needed to be done. But timing was hard to plan. I knew that whenever I did it, it would rip my family apart, but I don’t want to talk about that too much in this letter. It’s not something I need to bore you with the details on. Basically, I’ve been procrastinating to try and make it easier on my family. Yes that’s naïve. I know. But not a lot of my thoughts are too rational at the moment. Ha. I guess since I decided, things have been a little easier in some ways… everyday things. The things I hate, I just keep thinking, another month and I’ll never have to face this again. I’ll be gone. But, it did make some things harder. My family trying to make plans with me for some point in the future, for example. I’ve just ended up with a huge reluctance to make any plans; to give anyone hope but it’s so hard and it’s breaking my heart to do that. I can’t bring myself to tell my little brother I won’t be able to make his football matches anymore, or see him start high school. It’s just that the idea of death is just so… relieving I guess. I’ll never have to experience confusion or hurt or misery again. But that comes at the price of giving up anything else. I decided it was worth that price a long time ago.
Sorry for going on about things that you probably don’t actually have any interest in. I don’t mean that in a malicious way, I just mean, genuinely, you don’t know me that well so why would you want to know the details behind my suicide? I just needed someone to tell the complete truth to, someone that it wasn’t going to hurt.
Anyway, I need you to do me a huge favour. In the package you found this letter, you’ll find 4 more, each in separate envelopes. They are named, addressed and stamped, and all I need you to do is post them for me. I’m sure you’ll be pretty confused to why I couldn’t have posted them myself, but the thing is, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. And I trust you. Which leads to my next point, I trust that you won’t read the letters, but I want to ask you not to, just in case.
Thanks for listening; I hope it doesn’t take too long for my spot to be replaced in class… That has to be a little morbid. Ha.


LETTER 2
Hey buddy. I know you’re gonna be really confused right about now… And probably pretty angry with me for leaving you. But it’s gonna be ok little man, I promise it is. Before I do any explaining, I need you to promise me you’ll look after Mum and Dad, at least for a while. Things are gonna be pretty tough for a bit, but you’re gonna be the little hero of the house and you need to keep joking and laughing just like you do now. Give Mum and Dad a reason to smile, ok? For me. I don’t want to ever find out that you’ve changed. Not in the slightest. You’ve always made me smile, even when I’ve been sad, and now you need to do the same for Mum and Dad.
So, I’ll try explaining. You see, as people get older, things get very stressful. And some people, like you, are little tanks and can work your way through those stresses. But I’m not one of those people. And I’m so sorry. I’ve just been really sad for quite a long time now, and I want you to always remember that I’ll be happier up in heaven. I know how selfish that is, leaving everyone just so I’m happy, but as you get older I’m sure you’ll start to understand. But please just remember that I haven’t disappeared, I’m just up in the clouds now, and I’m gonna be watching down on you and looking after you still. No-one is ever gonna mess with my brother and get away with it, ok?
Do you remember that time I picked you up from school and I wasn’t in my uniform so you knew I’d been skiving? And you could tell by my face that I’d been crying so you just hugged me and told me not to worry because you wouldn’t tell Mum and Dad I’d skipped school. And then we went for ice cream and I chased you round the park. I was thinking about that earlier today. You’ve always been able to make me laugh, and make things feel better. You’re such a strong little man, and I’ve never seen anything hurt you. So I hope you can stay strong for me now.
You’re my little hero, and I hope you can forgive me one day. I’m so sorry buddy.
I’ll always be here, and love you.
Your big sis x


LETTER 3
Hey Dad. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I know I’ve left you with probably the biggest job of them all. It’s gonna fall on you to look after everyone now and I know that’s going to make this even harder for you. I’ve always looked up to you y’know? Even with all the times you embarrassed, or to phrase it better, completely and totally humiliated me. Like when you first met my boyfriend and you practically interrogated him. Jesus, I was not impressed. But all in all, you’ve always been the more laid back parent; i.e. the one that let me have a little more to drink than I should have at 14. So than-you for having fun with me, and I’m sorry for throwing it back in your face like this.
You deserve an explanation. I can’t narrow it down to any specific events, but I really haven’t been happy Dad. I’ve tried so hard to ignore it, or to solve it. But the thing is, it’s been so confusing trying to figure out what was wrong with me… And so tiring. And I don’t want to do it anymore. I just want to rest and be at peace. You have no idea how hard it is to say goodbye, but I need to do it; for me. I’m so sorry for lying to you, and for acting like everything was ok. But I need you to not blame yourself in the slightest. You have made me so happy, so often. Our jokes and the times we have spent together mean so much to me… and you need to know that none of that was ever faked. I want you to remember me as the happy, lively daughter I was. Please. You have made things a lot easier for me and I just wish I could feel like that all the time. It’s when I’m alone that I can’t cope. I wish I could explain it to you better than that, but I can’t even get the thoughts straight in my head, never mind write them down. So I’m sorry for that, too.
I didn’t suffer any pain. You need to know that, too. It was about a month ago I decided to use pills. I did my research and completely knew what I was doing, and trust me, I was in no pain. I chose pills because it would leave me looking relatively normal, and I could do it at home, where I felt the safest. I don’t know who found me, but I want you to give them my greatest apologies. I can’t even imagine… I know these are not the things you want to be hearing, but they are things I need to tell you. I decided when I was gonna do it about 2 months ago. It was one night after I got home from school, before anyone was in. I thought about how easy it would be to just do it then and there, but Mums birthday was coming up, and mine was only 2 months away, so I decided to wait. I think it was in a vague attempt to make it easier on you guys, and to get my birthday out of the way first. At least I would be 17 then, and I suppose I thought a news story of a girl committing suicide at 16 sounded a little melodramatic, so I waited.
And I’m so glad I did. I’ve had the best times with you in these last couple of months. Mums birthday was fantastic; it was so nice having everyone together, but so hard to lie to you all. I’m so sorry. It was a struggle every day to keep going on, but I knew that I wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore if I could just make my ‘deadline’.
Not to put any more pressure on you, but please look after Mum. I’m freaking out about how she is going to deal with this. I can’t explain how horrible and hard this is to write. I feel so guilty. And I can’t deal with it. Just please make sure everyone is ok. I’m just going round in circles here. I know this is going to break your heart Dad, and I’m so, so sorry. I love you so much, and I hope you and Mum can carry on with your lives. Give the little one everything now, and make him the most spoilt, special little boy you can. (Joking, obviously). Ha.
Stay strong for me Daddy; I’ll see you again one day, I’ll always be your little girl x


LETTER 4
Mum. Mummy. I am so sorry I’ve done this to you. It’s heart-breaking writing this letter and this is so surreal knowing this is going to be sent to you. I’m racked with guilt for doing this to you. I love you Mummy, and I always will. You can’t let this ruin a single thing for you ok? You need to get on with your life, and enjoy it. Spoil the little one (as I’ve told Dad; that is a joke) but do make sure he’s as happy as possible.
We’ve always been close, and that’s why this has been so hard to do; to lie to you about. But I had made my decision a while ago; I didn’t want to be here anymore. And I didn’t want to have to deal with you trying to convince me otherwise. I just lost control. I couldn’t keep myself happy, and I relied on other people too much. It wasn’t fair. So I did what was best for me, and for everyone.
You gave me the best send off. My birthday. I was happy that night, for a while at least. And in that time, I almost reconsidered. Almost. But really, I had a great night. I wasn’t expecting anything special; I didn’t think I deserved anything, especially with what I was planning… What I was about to do to you all. But when I opened the door and walked in and you and Dad and the little one and my boyfriend, along with the rest of the family were there, it made me feel happy, and proud to have a family like you. (Speaking of my boyfriend, keep an eye out for him will you? You know how serious we were, and just keep him close by. I want you to all stay close now that I’m gone. You’ll all have your letter, with your little piece of me, and you’ll need each other’s support) Anyway, as I was saying… Acting like everything was gonna be ok that night was hard though. I wanted to tell you so badly that I wasn’t ok, that your baby girl was breaking on the inside. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want help. I just wanted to be gone; at peace, finally. I’m sorry that this is the first you will hear of any of this. I can’t imagine how confused you are.
I have a couple of confessions to make before I go. Remember that time you got a call of school, double-checking a hospital appointment for the little one? And you argued with the school office lady for about half an hour, telling her he was definitely in school that day because I vouched for taking him to school that morning, and picking him up? Yeah, that’s not exactly what happened. Let’s just say, we needed a bit of brother-sister bonding, and I took him out for the day. I forced him into it and it was 100% completely my fault… and if I find out he gets in trouble for this, I will haunt you. Sorry. This isn’t the time for jokes.
I love you so much Mum. I’m trying to keep this letter a little more light-hearted, because if I don’t I’m going to break down, and I can’t risk changing my mind. Not when I’ve got this far and have everything planned out this well. This is happening. And I’ve known that it’s been inevitable for a while now. It has just been a case of timing. I hope I got that right.
Please don’t be too angry with me, or find it in your heart to forgive me one last time? I’m always going to be looking out for you, and everyone else of course, but you especially. You’ve been my guardian angel since the day I was born, and now it’s my turn to be yours. You’ve given me everything you possibly could, and you’ve been the best Mum anyone could be. Never take any blame for this. This is just an issue with me personally. And I’m sorry it has to affect you in the biggest way possible.
I will always love you and need you Mum. And I’ll always be your baby girl. X


LETTER 5
Now then you, this is going to be the hardest of all my letters to write. You’ve always made me happy you know? Not once that I’ve been with you have I wanted to do this, it’s just when I’m alone that it gets me. You have given me the most amazing relationship anyone could have asked for, and I know that I haven’t deserved it in the slightest. That’s made it harder I guess. Because as much as I love you, I know you could do so much better than me… ‘The ****** Up Girl’ as your ‘friends’ like to call me. Thank-you for not listening to them, even if what they were saying is true. You’ve always seen the true side of me, and you’ve known how much I’ve struggled getting by. But I still don’t think you would have ever expected this, and I’m truly sorry for that.
First of all, I want to tell you that, without you, this would have happened months ago. You are the main thing that has kept me going, so you should be so happy with yourself for that. I’ve been considering this for about 2 years now, and it’s just that recently, things have been tough with people at school starting to find out how depressed I am. The things people say are horrible. But I don’t want you to mention that to my family. I don
Temitope Popoola Aug 2013
How could you love someone this much and allow your parents' decision and choices to mar your future? Why does this matter anyway? Hasn't this happened several times and are the people involved not happy? Can't everyone just pretend not to see things and carry on with their businesses? So many questions played in Fiona's mind! There were answers, but she was unsatisfied! She wanted things to go her own way! She parked a few metres from her house and stared into the thin air!
Keji, her friend had told her "Babes, you gotta do what gotta do!". She chuckled, when she'd told her that; it sounded like a slur! But now that she's faced with the reality of making that decision, she'd gone bizarre! Flayed emotion and uncollected thoughts. She took a deep breath and started the car,  what does it matter anyway? She's an adult, and at twenty six she had the right to live her life and live it to the fullest!
She drove into her parents' house and  was received warmly! She'd called her mum ahead of the visit and was pleased to know her father wasn't home!
"Look who we have here, Fiona!" Her mum had said heartily hugging her. She raised an eyebrow, something's definitely up! Her mum sure could act!
She settled herself into one of the comfortable chairs as her mother excitedly moved about!
"Remember Jude? He's in town and I heard he'll be around for long. He asked after you." Her mum offered her juice and eyed her, searching for her reaction and waiting for her response! She got it, Fiona was clearly irritated and moved restlessly in her chair.
"Mum, not again please! I could make my own choices! Stop making me feel like I have a problem hooking up with men." She blurted out. Her mum wasn't surprised, it was just the anticipated reaction.
"You sure don't. Considering that you've never brought anyone home as your boyfriend" her mother answered, sarcastically.
"And every of your friends' sonos are always showing up in town and asking after me. I met Emeka under the impression that he was after me and I discovered he'd never heard about me and was treating me with pity! Like I had an issue with men. I do not like it" She explained to her mum, her voice laced with emotion.
Her mum bowed her head as if in deep thought, let out a sigh.
For minutes neither of them spoke! Fiona's beautiful face was shielded with the long peruvian hair that hung carelessly on her head! Her eye ***** were huge, and looked like they were going to give in to tears any moment from now. She'd worked at different companies before she finally settled with a top oil and gas company. She'd had different challenges with guys and wasn't willing to try anymore when she met the man she'd actually gone home to tell her mum about!
"There is someone and I want you to meet him" she walked around the house. Her mother's face lit up and then concern crept up it. "Do I know him? Is it serious?" She answered, "He's nice, caring, and loves me"
Smiling nervously, she picked her clutch bag and moved to the door. "You would meet him, tell Dad. And mum," She paused "Please be nice"
She was glad that phase was over. She told her fiance about the outcome and prepared him for the much dreaded visit to her parents' house.
They decided to make it on a sunday, her father, Lieutenant Joseph was home and was so pleased to see his daughter after all. He looked at the man beside her on the sofa and gave her a meaningful look. She shifted uneasily in her seat. The mother joined them in her sweeping gown and looked suspiciously at her daughter. She had on her the look of 'I smell a rat'. She sat beside her husband who fondly pulled her to his side. They watched a popular soap opera, Edges of Paradise and for a long time everyone seemed caught up in the family opera.  Fiona's mother coughed eerily, and everyone's attention was forced to her, she batted her fake long lashes and spoke "So?"
Fiona picked it from there, "Dad, I came over some weeks ago and told mum I was going to bring over my fiance so..." Before she could complete her statement her mother cut her short!
" Yes, you did Sweetheart, but don't you think it's rather rude for you to rush us by bringing in his father instead? You should have brought the young man instead" Her mother said eyeing the man with contempt.
Fiona was shocked, how could her mother refer to her fiance that way? Yes he's older than her but what? Does age hold the key to happiness. She looked at her father quickly, pleading for help with her eyes but he seemed somewhat humbled by his wife presence and speech.
"Mother, that's not fair. How could you speak about him in that tone? This is the man I want to marry." She said with heat. At that moment her fiance was getting uncomfortable, he tried holding Fiona's hand but it was hot, his too was moist with sweat. He didn't expect things to go too well but at the same time he was caught unaware! Her mother shifted forward in her chair, "Now gentleman may we know you?"
"I'm Victor Okon, I'm an entrepreneur and run a chain of businesses within and outside Nigeria. I met your daughter few years ago but we started seeing each other two years ago. I like her ma and would be pleased if I could marry her." He stated flatly. He was tired and didn't like the way both parents stared at him. To him, he was doing something noble by going to their house but the look they were giving him made him feel like a child molester. Would they have preferred it if they'd met in another way, like him going there to say he's responsible for putting their daughter in the family way?
The father didn't say a word and that made him wonder what kind of family they were. Then he gave it another thought and concluded perhaps, it's the way of military personnel. When it comes to family they are always cool headed but duty time, they are as hot as hell. Occasionally, when they let out their anger, they are unrestrained. Fiona's mother's eyes narrowed as she started speaking again.
"How old are you?" She had hit the nail on the head. That was the bone of contention and Victor Okon rubbed his hands. His hair a mixture of grey and black had somewhat given him out. But there was no point lying, if he ended up marrying her they would have to know sooner or later. He was a man of integrity and worth who didn't value recklessness. He was responsible.
Fiona took over, taking the bull by the horn,"He's forty-five, younger than you by three years, so what?". She spat out, a look of disdain played on her face. Her mother retorted " If he's young enough to be my brother then he's old enough to be your father" that stung, drop of tears rolled from Fiona's eyes. Her father, who'd let the conversation flow for a long time spoke,
"You ladies should keep it cool in here, why don't you go into the kitchen and get us something to drink in here? We want to have a tete-a-tete." Fiona jumped from the chair and stalked out of the living room, her mother followed swiftly. Even as the kitchen door closed, one could still hear their voices .
Her father spoke with Victor and he found out he really liked the man. But he was concerned about them understanding each other, relationships like that most times comes with huge load of commitments. He was worried about her future, and how long it might take for them to really connect. There were lots of people in the society with that kind of situation and they were doing fine. Some too on the other hand had failed at it. They spoke for a long time and Victor was able to voice out his mind. He felt it was a normal reaction for the mother, considering the fact that they were about to give him their eyeteeth. They heard a crash followed by a loud sound in the kitchen and stopped abruptly, Fiona stormed out holding her hand to one side of her face, she picked up her hand bag and asked Victor to meet her at home. She left the house and Victor rendered his apologies. He shook the father's hands, nodded at the mother and walked out calmly.
He met Fiona outside crying, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. He drove in silence, she played with her fingers and finally let out a sigh, she was scared of losing him and said,
"I'll do whatever it takes, I will" He didn't say a word, he just nodded!  
He wondered in his mind, what's there loving someone older or younger? Isn't love the most important thing?
In Nigeria, the society kinda frowns at stuffs like this and age doesn't grant one liberty from parents' guiding eyes.
SarahJane Apr 2019
The day I said goodbye mum, I knew it wasn't the end, it was just a little fairwell, until we meet again.

You see I'm moving to a new house mum, though the memories aren't left behind, if only there was one button mum, one button to press rewind.

I'd certainly press that button mum, to see you once again. To laugh, share love and dance with you mum, and prey it doesn't end.

Though that can never happen mum, you're gone but never forgotten, i know you're beside me at my best moments mum, and at my worst when I hit rock bottom.

I feel you hold me at my worst mum, at my best I feel the same. I just wish that you were here mum and I could hear you say my name.

I wish I could wrap my arms around you, and feel you wipe away my tears. I know your with me in spirit mum and you will be throughout the years.

I love you and I miss you mum, goodnight, God bless, be free. Sending love and hugs to the stars mum, just for you from me.
Marion Clarke Apr 2017
I am mother.
I am school lunches.

I am a relationship
I am an extension
I am an idea.

I am mother.
Nothing more
but everything, everything, everything.

I am a tissue
I am a breast
I am a pillow.

I am mother.
I am a voice
saying no.

I am crying
I am drinking
I am lost.

I am mother.
I am every minute in a day.

I am losing weight.
I am running late.
I am coming now.

I am mother.
I am yours.

I am waking cold
I am feeling old
I am trying.

I am mother.
I am guilt.

I am Eve
who birthed us all
remembered for one mistake.

I am mother.
Because I have forgotten
who I am.
Jennifer Jan 2016
“Mummy I’m sick” said the girl pale white
The mum turned around in an awful fright
exclaimed, “What’s wrong? How do you feel?’
She replied with an honesty “I never feel real”.

The mother just sighed, went back to her book.
The little girl shocked didn’t know where to look
and went back to bed, in her nothingness room
Whilst her mother ignored her nothingness gloom

The next year the girl aged, just turned thirteen,
she called out to her mum who couldn’t be seen.
And shouted down stairs “mum something is wrong”
with the mothers reply “what the hell’s going on”

So the girl with the pause says “Mum I feel sad”,
Then the mum goes on about all the girl has
and how lucky she is, and no fuss should be made
Just think happy thoughts, it will all go away.

To which the teenage girl said “you’re right” with a breath,
and goes to her room, feels like turning to death,
but switches off her light and lays in her gloom,
her room filled with nothing, fit for a tomb.

Now just turned sixteen, her heart had just broke,
a boy that she loved continued to joke
about all the things, she hated the most
her weight, her smile, she felt like a ghost

And after a week, she spoke to her mum,
about feeling so fat and feeling so numb.
Unfortunately for her, the cliche applied,
about how all teens feel this, trying to clarify
to her girl that the “fact” is it isn’t real
stop saying you’re sick, illness isn’t how you feel



This time she said nothing and went to her room
stopped talking to the boy who filled her with fumes
the thoughts of hatred and self deprecation
she knew it was time for her mum’s “education”
to see that her sickness long wasn’t all in her head
it was something deep down that started to spread

And weeks went by with planning and thought,
to show how her feelings and illness was fought,
she searched through the house for a constructive fight,
to clearly scream out what she knew was right
“Mum, I need help I don’t want to die”
but this was too late to say, the time was nigh

and finally the next day she calls for her mum
screaming “mum I’m hurt please just come”
with a relentless sigh, she walks up the stairs
to her little girls room, destroying her prayers
that her daughter was better, she wasn’t still sad
and the realisation of what she said was bad

her little girl kneeling, white and pale,
with blood on her hands, began to wail
in physical pain with emotional struggle
the mum had realised, her girl was in trouble
and picked her up and took her away
to a place where people like her could go stay.

And finally after years of trouble and fraught,
this girl knew she was allowed to be distraught…
kelly huckle Jun 2015
My mum is so beautiful
My mum is so kind
My mum is so sweet
I love my mum so much
My mum gave me life
Thank you mum you gave me
a lot when you had 6 other children to see too you done it on your own thank you mum
Am sorry for all the fights and squabbles.
I thank you for giving me a roof over my head and comfort when I was weak. Love you mum
Stargaria Jul 2017
Mum I want silence,
I want isolation leave me be,
Mum I'm desperate can't you see?
I'm so frightened of what's beyond,
Mum don't leave me alone,
It's only you of whom I'm fond,
Mum the people they scare me,
They say I'm fine and free to go,
Mum I'm hurting can't you see?
I'm all alone wishing my crypt,
Mum I'm in containment it's what I wish,
It wasn't by accident that I tripped,
Mum I'm helpless but nobody seems to care,
I'm sorry I'm not strong enough,
Mum This pain I can no longer bare,
I'm sorry but the only way is to leave,
Mum you can't save my blood now,
I won't wear my heart upon my sleeve.
**** gets tough but poetry is a platform for ventilation
valencia May 2019
September

from dust and broken glass, from silver and stone, an army arises from their shallow graves. and to this day, no one can remember that this is how it all began.

demons run when a good man goes to war.
that’s what they have always told me. there haven’t been any good men here for a while then, because I can still see demons lurking around corners like shadows.


there have always been things in my life I have learned not to question. you do not doubt the stars in the sky, the ground beneath your feet, or the strength of the northernland. we do not question the northernland.

i like to ask myself questions-
after the sky fell, who gathered it all up and put it back in the sky?
they won’t tell us in school.
when the sky fell, what did the stars taste like?
i think it would taste like fire and pain and sugar, like drinking lighting hot lemonade in the summer.
we don’t ask in school.

thursday



there has never been enough. money, food, water. in school, they teach us about the war. the war has no name, it is just the war. maybe it will someday. no one dares to name it. you do not name the devil.

we bow to the throne of the northernland, unaware that is was born of lies. the cameras are our leader now. they are all we have ever known.

on Sundays we go to church and pray. the crosses will never hang right and are always turning upside down and the priest is always looking pale. we all look pale, now. the cloud of dust from northernland blocks out the sun most days.


friday
I went to Lou's house today. she has a red front gate and ivy growing in her garden. we kicked a deflated kickball around for a bit, but she kept looking over her shoulder. she pretended to drop the ball behind her but couldn't bend down to grab it because her arm is broken, so I went over. tears were hiding beneath her eyes, but she did not say anything. then her dad came out and watched us play. i didn’t like his smile, it was too wide.




when i wanted to go home, he offered to walk me home. i said i could do it by myself. wouldn’t want you to get into trouble he said, somehow smiling wider. lou made herself laugh and smiled too, but it wasn’t a real smile. as we walked home, he didn’t turn his head away from me, even to cross the street. i looked deep into his pupils, which were so wide they covered the colored part. i swore i could see someone behind them, watching. i didn’t say anything. after i went into my house,
he stood out front for a long time, watching. then i heard. shout from the basement but the door was locked as always so i got scared about that instead and when i looked out front again he was gone.

saturday

today in school i fell and skinned my knuckles. the blood that came was strange, reddish-orange. teacher grabbed my hand and bandaged it right away before i could get a good look at it. she said you mustn’t tell your mother.


teacher doesn’t know that mother went to go live in the White Building, a place for people who hear voices and don’t like the government and have to be restrained so they don’t hurt people. i don’t say any of this, i just nod my head ok.

sometimes i worry, about alistair. he’s a gravedigger and everyday when he comes home he looks so empty. he won’t tell me why he’s so sad but once i heard him tell canary that the graves just get bigger everyday and then after a long time he said but there are always to many bodies

i tried to listen more but he found me behind the wall and when i asked him why there were so many bodies he said there’s a sickness, that’s all
then after that teacher made us all wear cottons masks that are itchy and make it hard to breathe.


sunday

on the telly today the man in the suit announcer we had another victory but i don’t understand how we can have victories without winning the war. the man in the suit tried to show a picture but all we saw was a blurry mess because alistair said sometimes things can’t be shown on the telly but i don’t know why. i doesn’t make sense why they would restrict anything anymore. we now what it looks like. a flat landscape paved with bodiesaccented with blood.
we aren’t supposed to know about that though.

in school, teacher tells us there have been no casualties of the war. but only when principal is watching. when he’s not she’s stuffs our coats beneath the crack and the door and tunes the telly to a different station- one that’s fuzzy that she has to hold a hanger to in order for us to see anything. and she’ll flip back and forth between leader of the northernland and say this is propagandam  and then turn the **** back to the man in the suit, and then say this is the truth

i don’t know why teacher tells us these things.

monday

listen- do you hear it? i can hear planes buzzing overhead. teacher says to ignore it. teacher says we aren’t supposed to hear.
alistair never lets me go in the basement. he keys the key round his neck, even when he’s sleeping. he says it’s dangerous down there. but i’ve always been too curious- that’s what principal says. he looks at me with those stern different colored eyes and says curiosity killed the cat every time ms. hoth brings me to his office for doodling. i still have no idea what a cat is. cardeully, he erases my drawings and put the paper neatly into his desk. we waste nothing here. go home is all he says. but i know what he means. walk home in silence and do not ask questions, do not look behind curtains and do not wander off.

today mari has her birthday party. her mum wasn’t there. i can tell lou noticed because her eyes were scanning the room all strange, but she didn’t say anything. i didn’t ask. mari looked all scared and the camera of the ceiling fan hadn’t moved from her in a long time. i wondered who was watching her.

later, mari pulled me beneath her bed. i tried to say something but she covered my mouth with her hand. they’ll take me for telling you
was all she said.
but i have to tell someone.

i knew the feeling.
after a long time she took her hand off of my mouth and said mums in the garden








while she opened her presents, the mandatory ones from the northernland that are no fun, i tried to look out the window to see her mum. the only thing i could see in the garden was a pile of freshly turned earth. lou caught me looking and grabbed my wrist. she said you mustn’t look.


tuesday
when i come home there is a woman sitting at the kitchen table, and with her there are four ravens. she is royal, i can feel it in the way she sits and breathes and just exists. she looks at her hands and then at me. but this lady is not a guardian angel, like the kind canary says is always looking out for us. i am not an angel. she says. she is not from the northernland, but not from here either. i know is all i say, because i am not alarmed that she is here and that there are cameras and that she does not belong. i know she is not real. and she says i am a godess. i do not doubt her. she sits up, and puts the ravens about her in her hair and on her shoulders and the like. this is an omen. i nod, because why else would a goddess be at my kitchen table? and then she is gone because she was never really there, and i wash my face and make sure i am no longer seeing people that are not there, because i don’t want to go live in the White Building like mum.


wednesday

they are always watching us at recess- we mustn’t stand or walk anymore. we have never been allowed to run. there are cameras everywhere now, too. they see everything like a great waking monster that never sleeps. i thought i would feel safe with the cameras, but the back of my neck feels prickly like there’s somebody standing behind me and when i spin around and look the mushroom is empty except for me.

the only place there aren’t cameras is under alistair bed. i go and hide there sometimes, just to forget the feeling of being watched. that’s where i read the stories that alistair’s written. in them, he talks about a sky as blue as the ocean.
i have never been to the ocean. i remember the sky used to be blue, but never really. now it is a sickly grey.
canary caught me looking at the sky once and pushed my head down. she said don’t let them catch you looking or they’ll put cameras in your eyes.
i believe her.

wednesday

today we went to mandatory meeting, where they passed out rations. there is always less and less then there was last time. while we were there they made us watch a video where the leader of the northernland talked about how well we were doing in the war and how this would almost be over soon. he also reminded us that if we were past curfew there would be serious punishments.
for rations we got a red powder called kool-aid that you mix with water to make juice. we also got a loaf of white bread, a browned banana, circular crackers and a warm jacket. alistair took the jacket and left for work.

canary always looks worried. ever since mom went bonkers i haven’t seen her not wearing her worry lines. i can’t believe she’s only six years older than me. to alistair that doesn’t seem like a long time. to me, six years is an eternity. as long as a war.

canary watched alistair go at the window for a long time, long after he disappeared into the fog. then, all of a sudden, she turned around and said i’ll help you with your homework. i didn’t tell her that i knew how to multiply fractions. mom always used to say that if you were busy you weren’t worried. canary made me a cup of red juice and her hands shook so much she dropped the glass.
pity, that was our last one. it seemed to shatter in slow motion, and i could see every piece break slower and slower.

the day seemed to go by slowly, the cold sleeping into my bones and making me sleepy. i wa so thirsty, so thirsty. i wasn’t allowed anymore water till friday though. if you drink to much of it at once you get sick. i begged canary to let me drink from the stream in the garden but she wouldn’t. it’s black and thick, and smells like nail polish.

the last time i punted my nails was for dads funeral. i remember canary used her last bottle of nail polish to paint my fingers black, so as not to have anybody see the dirt under my fingernails. it didn’t matter, in the end. we were the only ones who attended.

canary is flying together the pieces of the glass with tacky glue. i can’t bear to tell her that all the glue in the world would never be enough. the shards are too small. she’s fills it back up with red juice and fora moment all is well, but then the glass can’t take it anymore and collapses with force into her hands. kool-aid runs down her fingers like blood. intermixed is real blood, from the cuts the glass left. she looked at it for a long time, letting the blood run down her fingers like that.

then she said what a waste

november

alistair is sick. principal gave us ibuprofen but all it does it make him feel empty. he begs us not to give him more but it’s the only things that will take his fever down. he thrashes in bed and screams ****** ****** and i worry he is going to be like mom, always seeing things and hearing things. maybe he can go live with mom in the White Building. mom would like that, if she could remember alistair.

i have been sleeping at school, because canary doesn’t want me to get sick. the dorms are cold and empty and heavily sanitized. i miss canary and i miss alistair but canary won’t let me come home. i don’t know what she would do if i was sick. so i stay. and every night, i say to myself i hate the northernland i hate the northernland i hate
but i say it in my head,  because i am worried they will come for me.
sometimes i worry about canary getting sick. she says promise i wont, sunshine but i know she never worries about herself. teacher gave me flowers to send to alistair. the card says “get well soon” it has been a long time since i have seen real flowers. most are fake, like the ones teacher sent alistair. i don’t mind. it’s the sentiment that is important.





sunday

today at church preacher said and let us pray for our sick
they have stopped re adjusting the crosses. the remain upside down and no one looks. except me. i was looking, while we were supposed to be praying, but canary pushed my head down and said  pretend you can’t see them.
that’s  when i knew she sees things too.

saturday
i remember when i came home from school and found mum. there was paper all over the house, because she’s been doing her drawings. it was on the walls and floor and crinkled up under the boxes, all pictures of the northernland and the pastor and everything. and she said there is no god. there is no god. there is no god. alistair covered her mouth but it was too late, the northernland men were already here. she drew here pictures more violently scribbling and slashing with my art pencils. she drew alistair and canary and father, but not me or her. there was lump in my throat. she picked a new piece of paper and drew god, above us all, but she kept saying there are no gods there are no gods there are no gods, and she slashed and scribbled at the paper, and the northernland men were knocking, watching us through the cameras, and mum pulled me down next to her. i could see blood beneath my skin she held me so tight, and she had. a thousand stars in her eyes that were all spinning, saliva dripped down her chin and  she did not look my my mum anymore. she looked lost. she said the gods have abandoned us.


after the northernland men took her to live in the White Building, her drawings were left on the floor. alistair gathered them all up and threw them in the basement and locked the door. then he put the key around his neck. at least, i think that’s what’s in the basement. i have never told alistair, but i took the last drawing she did, of me and her and a boy. i stuck it with glue to the very back of my dresser drawer, so no one will ever find it. in the picture, my lips looks like there are sewn together with greenish yarn. this has always scared me. mums mouth is open and she is screaming, but there is no tounge inside her mouth. the boy looks normal, and he is holding my hand. this boy is not alistair. this has always scared me. this has always scared me. this has always scared me. it’s only a picture.



monday

i keep finding myself in that moment-
when canary broke the glass and cut her hands, spilling red juice and blood like lines on her hands. she sat there for a long time, just looking. maybe it’s stuck with me because she was just looking, when we’re never supposed to look.

the clocks tick slower and slower everyday.


tuesday

teacher wasn’t at school today. instead we have a woman with blinding hair and an accent from the northernland. nobody asked where teacher went.
we don’t want to know. the hanger and the telly were gone, too.

when i got home i was feeling really sick with tears. i told alistair they’ve taken teacher. his eyes widened and he ****** his head toward the camera. canary dig her fingernails into my arm. of course they haven’t was all he said. that’s silly.

then he looked off into nothing for a long time. i just looked straight into the camera.


wednesday

at recess the northernland woman was acting real strange. she sat with us on the pavement and when the camera tune we it’s invasive x-ray eyes away she whispered your teacher has been taken by the northernland.

nobody said anything. nobody says anything, anymore. i think if we even spoke to many of us would cry. and then the cameras would look at us. so we just stared into space.
in our hearts, we already knew. but i still wanted to scream.


thursday

today was idyllic. sun came through the smoke and lit the sidewalk up orange. the woman from the northernland asked us what we would want if we could have any powers. almost everyone said healing. i said flying. maybe it’s because i’m selfish, all i want to do is fly away. but maybe it’s because i’m honest. i’m getting tired of not hearing the truth.

just to see if i could do it i ran all the way home. my feet seemed to leave the ground, its was as if i was actually flying every time i took a step. but then i landed and took off again.
i hadn’t run in a long time.
my chest seemed to hurt with a good  pain, if pain can be good.
i wanted to tell alistair but canary wouldn’t let me see him. i just need to you to get warm was all she said. over and over. but i’m boiling he said. it was quiet for a long time. it’s going to be alright. she said it again. twice. three times.

you know that feeling when you feel sick to your stomach, not because of disease but of fear. and mixed up in that sickness are tears and realization and you feel weak and helpless.  that’s how i felt when they took mum. that’s how i feel now.

i don’t know why, but a sudden hatred for the northernland boils up in my stomach. i think i am going to be sick. i turn around and run, run as fast as i can until i am at a strange gravel alleyway hidden behind some trees. i rest there for a long time, looking into the darkness after the cliff face. i know where i am. i am in the abyss, a place forbidden so long ago by alistair i had never thought to come here. i don’t break rules, i just ask questions. but i am here. at the abyss. where nobody should ever be.

friday
death is a sense. just like touch or smell, death is a feeling. i could feel it in my heart. in my bones and in my veins. it crowded about our house like fog in the summer. and all i wanted in the world was for it to go away.

teacher today told us about the northernland, how it was kind and safe and loved it’s people. the lie seemed to cuddle in her throat. nobody has ever gotten kindness from the northernland. the northernland started the war and has starved and survieled us to no avail. i know there was a time before, but i do not understand how that could have been. but i still haven’t  made peace with the cameras.


the abyss is where people go to go crazy. your screams bounce off the walls of the hole, but you cannot see them because it does not have edges. you cannot see the bottom or the sides of anything, just darkness. then the northernland men in the gas masks come in their yellow trolley and take you away. the abyss is where the devil lives, in a bottomless hole to the middle of the world.







saturday

i met a boy who lives in the abyss. he is made of sunshine and glitter, and plastic and paint and peace and everything that is beautiful.

but he is not really there. instead, he is almost see through. sometimes he is there and sometimes he is not. i know he isn’t real, just an imaginary friend. i am not like mum, who saw imaginary people and thought they were becoming real.

i did not say much to enyo, instead i said the only thing i was thinking. saying it made me feel sick.

i think alistair is going to die.













as i said it, it echoed off the walls of the cliff.
suddenly it was all too much. i was all too much. my heart started beating fast and my mouth felt dry and i stood up. i didn’t mean to cry but i did, big wet tears the dried my skin. i don’t want him to die. i said over and over.
my words echoed against the cliffs, i didn’t  sound like me.
HE CANT DIE
i shouted. HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE  CANT


i woke up a long time later next to enyo. i looked into the void that filled the space between the cliffs and the beyond. i wonder of that’s where heaven is i said. i pointed into the nothingness that felt all consuming. enyo said nothing. he looked as empty as i felt.
a long silence later i said he’s not going to die is he? enyo looked me in the eyes for the first time and i realized his were a beautiful black, layer upon layer of black and brown. he said what do you fear more, the echo or the answer

but enyo was not there at all. he is only imaginary.




sunday

preacher came again to the house and said that alistair is better. that his fever had broken. i didn’t know fevers could break. i asked him about what being sick feels like, and he took me outside to the garden and we sat on the piles of rubble that used to be the neighbors. he said that your brain gets confused, and everything seems fuzzy and mixed up. i can’t help but think that must be awful for alistair, he was always orderly.

monday
today mari has her birthday party. her mum wasn’t there. i can tell lou noticed because her eyes were scanning the room all strange, but she didn’t say anything. i didn’t ask. mari looked all scared and the camera of the ceiling fan hadn’t moved from her in a long time. i wondered who was watching her. i know who was watching her.


tuesday

i go down to the cliffs, but enyo isn’t there. schools closed for sanitization, so i have nothing to do.  i swing my legs off the edge for a long time. i don’t dare say anything, i hate how it echoes back. i look deep into the bottom but i can see nothing.  it is only darkness. something at the bottom feels like is calling to me, tugging at me to come. i turn my back.
was this before or after the preacher came? i am trying to remeber in order, tell you this story radially like teacher says.

i go home and canary’s there waiting at the window. she says here i’ll help you with your homework. no, no, no NO NO NO NO NO NO. that did not happen after, that happened before.

i can hear the ticking of the clock in my ears, slowing down.
maybe i’m going crazy.


wednesday
i’m sitting on a bench, but i cannot remember where. enyo is beside me and he is talking. in my chest i feel something strange, like it is moving and jumping. i feel queasy but it also feels nice.
i look over and he’s bleeding, golden blood from his eyes and mouth running down his chest. i want to scream but it stops in my throat. enyo puts a finger to my lips and the scream goes away.

he isn’t bleeding anymore. we’re holding hands. are we holding hands? teacher tells us not too, it will make us sick. but enyo is different. enyo doesn’t go to school. i feel as if my hands are sweating but it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t say anything.





i wake up cold. it felt so real, it all felt so real. my arms feel heavy.
i’m alone on a bench by the abyss. smoke fills the air and makes it hard to breathe.

friday
mari wansnt at school today. i know the northernland took her, broken bones and all. i remebemer becaus lou told me while alistair was sick. but that was days ago. i am sorry, it’s just so hard to tell the story in the proper order. my head hurts.

tuesday
i’m sorry if i cross out bits, it’s just that as i understand more i change the words. doctor says to stop doing this, but i want you to know the truth. the clocks are going slower and slower lately. alistair can’t work anymore, the preacher said so. i was going to tell him about enyo, how he is real now, not imaginary, but i didn’t know how. there aren’t words to describe him. looking at him makes crows beat their wings beneath my ribs, but i don’t know why. I sit with alistair after class but i can’t think of much to say. he doesn’t seem like my brother anymore, just a body lying on the floor.



thursday
doctor says i am defamilirazing myself, telling the story like it did not happen to me. telling it in all the wrong bits. i will try and tell it in the right order, but my head hurts. my head hurts so much. doctor won’t tell me why i need to explain, what the tape recorders are for or the make i have to wear the mask or why i’m here, what happened to my family. he won’t tell me why every time i say it like it was in the past and not happening right now he checks me for a fever. all he tells me is to start at the begging.

friday
the blonde woman from the northernland has a ring in her nose, but i do not know why. when i ask her she doesn’t seem to understand. she doesn’t talk anymore, either. just points at things on the board. i dreamt that she had her tounge cut off, but that was just a dream. the northernland would never do that to someone.

saturday
alistair is dead.
preacher says the disease took him, but i do not know which. the real sickness or the brain washing of the northernland. i think it was both, because the sickness made his brain weak so the mind-poisoners could break in. it’s okay, he wasn’t my brother anymore. doctor says that i never loved him.

sunday
church has ended and we are walking home, just arrived when our door opens. i wonder who would w at to come to this house, where the walls smell like death. the northernland woman is at our door, standing in the place the cameras cannot see her. she is smart. canary opens it and the northernland woman opens her mouth. there is no tounge or teeth, and the sides of her throat are black. i scream, so loud and shrill that i cannot believe that i am making this noise. my heart is in the center of the earth, fear running through my brain and i am screaming. canary covers my mouth. it doesn’t matter, the cameras were already looking.

canary pushed me to the floor and dragged me under the bed. i could feel the cameras following us the entire way. when she sat up, her pupils looked strange, the ways moms did when she ways seeing the people in the walls. anger seemed to hide in her voice, she was trying not to be loud but to me it felt like she was screaming, she had never thrown words that hit me like knives before. she told me never to scream or else the men behind the spying eyes of the camera would come for me. what would i do without you she yelled, but it wasn’t yelling it was crying. she help me close to her chest and i could feel her breathing and her heart beating, sparratic and short. she cried into my hair, until it was soaking wet with tears. this was when i knew canary was lost.

tuesday
enyo is in the void, just there. he is very pale today, and he doesn’t say anything for a long time. we have gotten to holding hands now. i have never held hands with anyone, and my fingers feel strange and clumsy. tecaher used to say that touching was against the rules, but i am so sick of rules that i am now glad to break them.
all at once, it occurs to me that there could be cameras here. there are cameras everywhere. i don’t know why this has never occurred to me before. suddenly i dont care, i want them to see. i stand up and scream as loud as i can.


thursday
after i screamed, no one came for me. even when i go back, i don’t feel safe anymore. i ruined the only place i felt safe.


saturday
enyo is gone. i go everyday and yell for him, but he left when i screamed. he is still missing. i’m worried for him, but at least i know the northernland has not taken him. a sick feeling in my stomach asks me if enyo was ever real. i know he was. but it is still there, pulling at my head. of course he was. i felt his skin, rough and broken. imagination can’t conjure up real people.
but then i think of mom. how her fever got so high she started to see people that weren’t there. my head hurts so much, like someone is trying to break out of jail in my skull. i am angry, for the first time in my life. enyo was my only friend, the only one who could see through the blanket of the northernland skies. i scream for him ENYO ENYO ENYO ENYO ENYO ENYO, but i am not mad, i am crying and crying so much and loud that someone puts their hand over my mouth, but there is no one there. i am suffocating. i turn around and i can’t breathe, my vision is tunneling into the abyss.
i am sick.



someone is holding my body, but their skin is cold. i open my eyes but i can only see shapes. i am on the gravel and the sun is orange, just like always. i am alone. but can feel someone’s tears, touching my cheeks. i sit up as fast as i can, and i am seeing stars but i just need to look. we are never supposed to look but i am going to see.


the northernland is punishing me.
enyo is making me sick.


enyo is there beside me, crying. i have never seen him cry and something rises inside me, and all i want to do is put my arms around him, so i do. slowly he gets warmer and feels more solid. let the cameras watch, let them see.


sunday
im running, running by the tips of my feet and pushing me off the ground, i’m flying. i have to get home.  i think of the first time i ran, letvthe cameras watch, talked to enyo. all the times i’ve broken the rules. i has always hated the northernland, but i had witnessed something better. i had talked to enyo, heard stories of what it was like before. a hatred so strong curcdled beneath my ribs and made me want to punch someone. i ran and ran and ran and ran, shouting HE CANT DIE
i shouted. HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE CANT DIE HE  CANT.     he is going to die.






monday
i saw a raven in the wire pole today. it was big against the grey sky and he watched me as i walked into the house. i hadn’t seen a raven in a long time, so i turn to enyo to tell him he looks like a raven. he smiles, but he is. if there. enyo was never there.

wednesday
alistair has gone back to work, though i think he shouldn’t have. he tells me the symptoms of the disease when he gets home. headache,seeing things, bleeding from your insides. i play with the ring on my finger, trying not to ask if that’s what happened to mom. i open my mouth but a rock lives there, and i cannot move it without crying.


sunday
doctor tells me to get off the floor, that i can stand now. i stand up and he puts me on the table. he is old and pale, with shiny grayish eyes. tell me what happened to alistair he says. i do not understand. what happened to alistair?

friday
mari wansnt at school today. i know the northernland took her, broken bones and all. i remebemer becaus lou told me while alistair was sick. i go home alone, and cold. i feel like there is a little green man in my lungs running a garden hose. i think back to the time when i ran, the first time i broke the rules. nobody came for me.
i can’t run anymore, my arms feel heavy and when i cough thick red bloods comes out of my mouth. it must be the smoke. I go home, and canary is at the window. she is crying in reckless abandon, shamshing on the door with her fists. two men from the northernland are holding her back, and one hits over the head with a black stick. alistair is being carried out on a stretcher.
look what the northernland has done to my family. all for the sake of this stupid war. i can’t remember who we’re fighting and yet my sister and my brother have died for the cause.
enyo says they are not dead. but enyo is not there, he was never there.

wednesday
i screamed again. i know canary told me not to, that cameras would look into my eyes and into my head. but i saw the northernland man coming up the street in his yellow trolley, straight for lou’s house. when the door opens she is wheeled out on a stretcher. so i screamed, because lou is dead and the war with no name had killed her. the devil had killed her.

canary grabbed me as the camera looked at me, as every camera in the house was trained on me. there was a disturbance in her eyes i had never seen before, like she was not all there. she grabs my arms and is much stinger than she should be. she opens the basement door and i scream again, because now i know what’s in the basement.








more northernland men than i have ever seen are in the basement, and when the door opens they look up. somebody take sme from canary and i scream and writhe and kick, but they pull at my body until my skin tears.





when i wake up, i am holding very still, and i cannot move if i want too. doctor says this is called  paralysis. there is a very bright light and a searing pain, it’s hurts so much my body is burning. cascades of blood come down into my mouth, and someone is sticking my lips with pins. this hurts more than anything that  has ever happened to me. it hurts in a deep ache, not just on the surface, and my entire body wants to shudder. my lungs are filling up with blood, because it hurts to much to breathe.





saturday
when i wake up i am in my bed, in my house. more relief than i have ever felt washed over me, because it was just a nightmare.

i used to have nightmares where there was a man in my room, saying numbers out of order. but then preacher says that if i talk to god before bed and make sure my blood is pure of doubt for the northernland, then i will not have nightmares. this is why i have had this nightmare, because i was disbelief the northernland. i do not care, because it was only a dream. i will never hail the northernland.


my lips hurt, and i wonder if in the night i bit my lips because of the dream. that happens sometimes. i dress and get ready for school, and catch myself in the mirror before i go. i turn fully toward it to make sure i am not hallucinating. in the great horror of it all, i try to scream, but it stays in my throat. i cannot scream, or make any sound at all.

my lips are sewn shut with green thread.


friday
everyone at school is quiet. anna covers her mouth and big wet tears fall on the ground. mrs. hoth takes her to the office, and the cameras follow them all the way there. we say our pledge and do our arithmetic, but i cannot say anything. i hate the northernland.
i hate it, i hate it. and i realize this is why they have silenced me.
the northernland woman is gone, and a man in a yellow coat teaches us arthimatic.
the clock on the wall is barley ticking now.
lou sits at the desk in front of me, her hair greasy and skin pale blue. she turns round, just like the old days, but isstead of telling me what the answer is or who’s the cutest or any of the normal things, all she says is run. her mouth makes an o and she closes her eyes and rests her head on the desk.

when i blink, she is not there. i am alone in the classroom.


sunday
i go to church by myself, because i havent seen canary since she sewed my mouth shut. she is not my sister anymore, and i pretend i don’t care what happens to her in that basement.

when i get there preacher is not there, there is nobody there except the northernland woman. she comes and sits next to me and runs her fingers across the stitches. we pray together, even though we can’t say anything and there is no sermon. when we walk outside there is an officers car, and she is handcuffed an put in the back. the man who has taken her gives me a sticker, with a little white cloud on it. it says trust in the northernland. i do not trust the northernland. i do not trust anyone.
i run away as fast as i can and throw the sticker into the ground, but it still seems to follow me inside my head. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland. trust in the northernland.



monday
enyo is at the abyss, waiting. he says i am killing you. and i understand, it all makes sense now. but he is all i have now. if the only thing worth living for is killing me, that is what doctor would call dramatic irony. i do not feel dramatic, i feel used. the northernland has used me and used my family.


saturday
doctor says that when telling a story i need to define who is the antagonist and the protagonist. the antagonist is someone who antagonizes people. doctor says this means evil. this is hard for me to understand, because everyone is evil. this is not a story, and it does not have characters. the peoples i have met in my life are all complex and strange, evil and good and unpredictable. doctor says ok and that we will try again tomarrow.

thursday
mari wansnt at school today. i know the northernland took her, broken bones and all.
mari wansnt at school today. i know the northernland took her, broken bones and all.
mari wansnt at school today. i know the northernland took her, broken bones and all.

friday

enyo is at the abyss, waiting. he says i am killing you. and i understand, it all makes sense now. but he is all i have now. if the only thing worth living for is killing me, that is what doctor would call dramatic irony. i do not feel dramatic, i feel used. the northernland has used me and used my family. doctor says to be thankful of the northernland, that they did not use me. i turn away from enyo because even though i love him, i am loyal to the northernland.
i am thankful to the northernland.
i am thankful to the northernland.
all hail, all hail.






love alistair
fire element
exposing government secrets
cult
enyo gets more real as he is dying.
preacher dies.
alistair goes crazy, then dies.
something in basement.
Very low IQ but the only one smart enough to see
enyo is a ghost
canary goes crazy and sews our mouth shut.
fall in love with enyo.
not told radially
told in sgememgs like cross cross
deep symboling
Terry Collett Feb 2015
There's a baby crying
from another room
a dog barking
from across the road

Helen opens her eyes
to her bedroom
her mind focuses
as much
it can
in morning's light

her younger sister
sleeps next to
her mouth open
eyes closed
hands resting on top
of the blanket

what day is it?
Helen asks herself
she calculates
Saturday yes Saturday

she smiles
no need to get up
just yet
she turns away
from her sister
and looks
at the wall
at her side
with green flowered
wall paper
torn in places
where her sister
has ripped it

she has to ask her mum
about the cinema
Benny said to go
but she wasn't sure
her mum would let her
or could afford
for her to go

I'll pay for you
Benny had said
the previous day
at school
I've got some
pocket money still

but she couldn't
just say yes
without her mum
knowing or agreeing

she sits up
and looks
at her sister sleeping
and gets up
and stands
on the cold floor
and goes to the window
and looks out

her mum is up
and in the kitchen
she can hear
saucepans being used
and her mum talking

she gets out of her bedroom
and along
to the kitchen/wash-room

what's got you out of bed
on a Saturday?
her mum asks
making porridge

Benny's going
to the cinema
and asked me to go
Helen says
pretending
lack of interest

does he now
and what
did you say?

Helen looks
at her mum's
broad beam
of backside
and tight
head of curls

said I'd ask you
Helen replies

did you now
well now you've asked

Helen waits
unsure of the answer

how much is it
to the cinema then?

Benny said
it's 6d
he did say he'd pay
but I said
I wasn't going to
accept his charity
(she hadn't
but it sounded good)

don't be too proud
of charity girl
you may need it
one day
her mum says

can I go?

her mum stirs
the saucepan of porridge

ok
but don't
make a habit of it
I'm not made
of money

Helen beams
and hugs her mum's
wide waist
and kisses her hip

get on with you
and get washed
and dressed
her mum says

and Helen
full of happiness
take off her nightgown
and washes
in the sink
of soapy water
her thoughts racing
around her head
like a cat chasing
a mouse
all over
a large
many roomed
house.
A GIRL AND HER MUM IN LONDON IN 1956
the 3 mental health conditions i have



depression, when i lose my jobs, and  when i lose my way in life, i go into a deep depression

or it could be anxiety, like like i go out, but when people treat me like one of their mob, i go into

a shell, saying, i am not a hooligan, i am a family person, and i would winge about this for days

i was thinking that other people, were trying to fight me because i am trying to be a street person

and the voice was saying you and your brother ain’t like us, you see, i always have been teased

by other poor people, because i am poor too, and i remember in the bar, i wanted to go to the bar

to have a beer, and these men wanted me to play with them, i was too young to understand, that they

were just using me, and i felt i was getting hassled, day in and day out, by the working class, it doesn’t stop

me from helping them, but i prefer to help the homeless, or disadvantaged at common ground, and

i look at common ground plans, and it could be how i visioned, when people yell at me, i go, leave me

alone, mate, i am a family person, i felt people were taking my job away from me, every day, i know now

that they weren’t, but i felt people were saying, i am sorry, your not cut out for helping us, today

i was really crazy, i implied to this man, who was doing the washing up, that i wanted to do this

he was upset, maybe, it is not depression, it’s me being anxious to help people, with my past, voices

saying don’t muck with brian, saying he is still a shy person, and despite all the good things i did

i left them, but the reason why i did, because, i was paranoid, that, i was being put in a little situation

by the people at the rainbow, like me being *******, in the craft room, i remember that note very well, i was

very uneducated about this, and i was trying to make it up to my mum after yelling at her and dad when i was young

and when i was drunk, and i wanted to be nice to everyone, but my kindness could have killed me, like i was

arguing with everyone, getting defensive so to speak, and i ate a lot of food and nearly died of obesity. well

i could say, i did die, of obesity, i am getting voices, every time i say i want to **** me when i was young, when i mean

the evil streak in me, the voice says, don’t, i liked that little guy, and he really did like that little guy, it could have

been created from the simpsons, there was a problem when i was working at the rainbow, i gave into temptation, where

i mucked with people who mucked around, but i still did my cooking and creative writing, and now, i have so many stories

to share with my youtube generation, but i was making mum and dad relax around me, and that is all i care about, and

then the crazy delusions i was getting when i killed my loving family cat, delusions were coming into my head, at first

i thought it was cool, i was hearing old mates and all my family, all gathering and the voices were great, and i tried every time

my parents got cranky, i tried to calm down, you see my parents would cry over spilt milk, literally, and then wondered why i

got cranky with them, i made a joke saying dad, don’t cry over spilt milk, dad got cranky and said, implying he was a clean person

and we should feel guilty about dropping anything on the floor, i said to dad, accidents to accure, and dad said, yeah but you need

to be more careful, and i wanted to escape my parents, because they were such projectionists in everything they did, and i found

out that leaving my house in a mess, was my way of playing cool for them, maybe in 2004, they were cleaning my house for me

before i went to hospital, but, i found mum and dad, as i said, real perfectionists, everything had to be perfect, i found it hard to

understand that my house if messy could spell eviction, but i was living in the backyard, yeah, mum and dad help, but i find a little

too much, i was doing fine when i moved in my new flat in hawker, i cleaned it every day, until i went into hospital, but dad

still wanted to be a dad, and i wanted him to be a friend, because, him and mums way wasn’t helping me, i understand where

it should help me, but it flaming didn’t, ya see i hated that little situation, where dad and mum were treating me like a 4 year old boy

so i brought back the memories for dad, saying why don’t you smoke again dad, saying, you seemed happier when you smoked

because, dad said, don’t argue with me be a BUDDHIST, i am a buddhist, but unlike christians, buddha allows a bit of teasing as

long as it is done in a peaceful, dad is dead, and now dad is betty campbell, but i want mum to one day understand this, because

i feel she is dwelling in all this, and she is worrying about me, but, i prefer the life of enjoyment, and i like community spirit

you see i liked and still like how men used to say i am doing a wonderful job, i was visioning dad turning off me, like he was

dwelling in the past, i told dad that his father is macauley culkin, but he actually is ryan clark, and mums dad is macauley culkin

i know this cause i am cronus, i liked when men said to me, keeping busy, mate, keeping out of trouble, mate

because i liked helping in the community, but mum and dad, i feel, were treating me like an old fogie, when they were complaining

about me doing volunteer work, i liked volunteering, every job was fun, mum and dad just worried about me, but in hindsight

i didn’t want them to worry, ok i never liked all that being my mums son, nor i hated being a little kid, i sit there and let us big adults

muck around, i liked how i was feeling down in the dumps, and i rang up dad and mum and we’ll doing the same thing

then i heard dad say, i am not mucking around in cool kid groups with brian, like a real **** would say, you see i was being an adult

i hated how dad tried to be like the in crowd, there is nothing wrong with that, but he looked like he was worried, i felt like saying

STOP WORRYING ABOUT YOUR SON BRIAN, AND RELAX, i tried to get him to relax by asking him to watch the cricket

and other shows, he refused, and now dad is dead, he is betty campbell now, but dad obsessed with doing everything perfect

if ya wanna copy dad, fine, but, i want to have better people around me, ok, to have PARTIES, dudes

rather than just doing it with mum, i am saving for adelaide on nye and the carols in the domain as well in sydney

PLEASE BUDDHA, BRING DAD CLOSER TO ME, ON TV, i miss him
Raj Arumugam Feb 2012
We’re at the shops
and Tim runs off of to the escalator
and Mum shouts to him:
You stop there!
And Tim freezes
like ice got hold of him
And Mum pulls out
the flap over the pram
and helps baby Didi
with the milk bottle
and I scream to Mum:
Let me go;
I want to go to Tim!

But she pulls hard at the rein
and I can feel it tighten
round my waist
a little
And I scream:
Mum! I want to go!
And she says:
Jill -
be quiet and still
as my shadow!

And from the distance
Big Tim screams:
Mom! Can I go?!
And Mom screams loudest:
You come here
and stand right beside
your sis Jill!

And we’re all together again
baby in the pram
Mum standing beside
and me on the rein
And Tim sulking at the side

And nobody else
from the crowd dares
come near
for they all know
my Mum -
she’s Wonder Woman
she’s Super Hero
cos my Mum’s supermom
...written after I saw this super mum with 3 kids at the shopping center today...
"Go and talk to your son!". It seemed lately that every arrival at home, in the old section of Glasgow, began with "Go and talk to your son!". "Why?...what has he done this time"...answered Angus' dad. "What trouble did he get into now?". "None...so far as I can figure" answered Mary, mother of the aforementioned Angus.

"Then why am I going to talk to him?". " He's not selling autographs again is he".
"No dear, he's not...you should just go and have a wee chat with him...that's all."

"Alright, I will"...."will I need some hobnobs as ammunition, or should I be okay on me own?".
"You should be okay without them, but, then again, a wee plate of hobnobs never hurt anyone...least of all our Angus"

Dad, poured two glasses of cold milk, set six hobnobs on a plate and ventured up to himself's room. He knocked twice, just above the "No gurls alowd" sign that Angus had put up after last nights arguement with his Mum, over carrots. Angus refused to accept the arguement that carrots gave you better eyesight...while his Mum said they did. A snicker from Dad at Angus' response almost got him banished to the sofa for the night himself, with his own "No gurls alowd" sign going up in the living room. He remembered Angus standing up from his chair, and stating "If carrots give ye such good eyesight, how come so many rabbits get hit by cars at night?". Then he stormed off.

He knocked again, and Angus opened up the door. Angus was still in his blue school shirt and grey pants. "Can I come in?" asked his father. "I've brought milk...and hobnobs".
Angus stepped back and let his father enter the room. The walls were covered with posters, of cars, footballers, horses, bikes, cartoon characters....so much so, there was barely any space left for anything else.

"Yer mum said I should talk to you...son...do you know why?" "Nope"...said Angus..."do you?" "That's why I'm asking you lad....she told me to come see you...do you know why I'm here?"
Angus tilted his head and answered "because Mum told you too?".
It was clear they weren't getting anywhere with this, so Dad asked "How was school today?"

Angus was now in full time kindergarten at St. Martin's in The Fields Primary School in Glasgow. The school was old, dank, smelled of age and was one of the finest in all of Glasgow...for it's age. It was famous for having had two members of The Bay City Rollers as students, one for about three months and the other a little less. They never graduated from St. Martin's, but, it was something to hang their hat on.

"I got all my Christmas Cards taken away today Da." said Angus. "I was giving them out to everyone, and the teacher, Mr. McDonall came and took them away.".
"Why would he do that boy?"...."Where were you doing it?'
"I was outside before school started giving them out...." , Angus sniffed, "and he came over and grabbed them from me".
Dad, remembered Angus working away for the past two nights, printing everyone's name on the cards, as perfect as he could. It only took 43 cards to get the necessary 21 Angus needed for all of his young classmates.
"Why would he do that?"..."did he tell you why?". "No Dad" said Angus through the rapidly increasing flow of sniffles and snot that normally accompany a crying child.

"I didn't find out until I went to the office to see the Principal afterwards".
"You went to the office for handing out Christmas Cards?" . "That doesn't make any sense son, are you sure you weren't doing anything else?"
"I was just handing out cards Da, that's all", said Angus as he grabbed another hobnob, which he quickly stuffed under his pillow for later. He would get in trouble for that one, but, it would be worth it.

"The Principal said something about Christmas Cards that say Christmas on them, can't be given out at school anymore. They can only say Happy Holidays. If it doesn't say Christmas on it, how can it be a Christmas Card Dad?".

"I don't know boy"...."but I am **** sure gonna find out"....and "you'd better eat that hobnob under your pillow before Mum sees it"...smiled Dad.

The pair ventured downstairs for dinner, neither discussing what went on in the room where "No gurls were allowed". Dinner passed in silence, with Mum looking from one to the other to get some sort of reaction. Once, Angus started to talk, but it had nothing to do with what went on between Father and Son, so she continued eating. She would find out later after Angus went to bed.

After dinner, Angus went to the park with his friends for an hour to play football, and tag, and swing on the swings for a while. Mum, took this chance to corner Dad...and corner him she did...."What went on up there? What did you two talk about?" "He won't say anything to me...what did he do?"
"Nothing....he did nothing wrong at all, so as I see it....Angus didn't do anything wrong".
He kind of smiled at that, because normally after being told "Go talk to your son...", Angus had always done something wrong...this time...it was The Principal.

"Tomorrow, I'm staying home in the morning and taking himself to school....I'm going to see The Principal". "What for?...if he didn't do anything wrong, why are you going to see the Principal?".
"Well, what time of the year is it?".....asked Dad. "It's Christmas silly, you know that...why?"
"Well, apparently it isn't Christmas at St. Martin's in The Fields...at least not as far as himself's teacher and new Principal are concerned. It's now Holiday time....not Christmas Time, Holiday Time. Our wee Angus got in trouble for handing out Christmas cards at Christmas. Does that make any sense?"...said Dad.

The next morning at breakfast, Angus looked up and asked "Dad, shouldn't you be going to work? you'll miss your train.". "I'm taking you to school and going to see your Principal, son". "Why?" asked Angus. "Let's just say I'm going to give him a Christmas Card....have you seen my bible?".
"It's on the sideboard...but, why do you need that Da?"...asked the boy.
"Let's just say...to make a point.".

Mum smiled as the two men, both wee and tall, walked together hand in hand down the drive towards the school. Upon arrival, Angus went off with his friends, while Dad, went into the old, intimidating looking institution. He could smell the old wood soap and mustiness as he waled down the hall, past the class pictures and the old trophies that get hauled out and cleaned every year for games day, only to be put back again after the awards presentations.

Upon arriving at the office, he announced "I'm here to see The Principal.....where is he?".
A pair of beady, spectacled eyes looked up from behind the front desk...and in a thin, reedy, voice asked..."And who might you be, sir...to come in without an appointment?".
"Ah'm flippin' Father Christmas, that's who I am....I am Angus' Mc Dougalls dad, and I am here to see the ****** Principal. Now where is he?"
"Without and appointment.." she started, quickly stopping when Dad, walked past the desk to the door marked M. Dingwall, Principal on it.

"You can't go in there"...screeched the reedy voice..."not without an.." "I know..." said Dad..."not without an appointment.....well, I've got mine right here, and right now..." he said, waving his bible in needle noses face. He continued in to M. Dingwall, Principal's office....and sat down.

M. Dingwall, Principal...looked up from the papers on his desk, which incidentally had 5, yes...5 Christmas Cards on it, and asked Dad..."and who are you to come into my office..."...."without and appointment"...finished Dad. " As I told your chihuahua out front, all bark and no bite by the way, I am frigging Father Christmas, who I see on 3 of the 5 cards you have on your desk. That's who I am, Father Christmas !!!"

"Well, Mr. Christmas, what can we do for you? " asked a clearly shaken M. Dingwall, Principal. "I'll tell you what you can do for me....you can apologize to my son, for a start. My wee lad Angus, came here yesterday morning and was sent to see you for handing out Christmas Cards, at Christmas. What am I missing here?".

"I remember that....yes, he was disciplined and told no more Christmas Cards, it's against the policy of the school board...it's a religious holiday, and we are not allowed, with all of the various religious groups represented within our walls to favour one over another. So, no more Christmas Cards in this school. That is the policy.", said M. Dingwall, Principal.

"That's nice...then what are those 5 cards on your desk....the ones that happen to have Christmas on them and Father Christmas and a nativity scene, which if I know the book I am holding here, is a religious representation, and the reason we have Christmas in the first place. "...asked Dad.

"Those are private, they were given to me by staff" said M. Dingwall, Principal. "I don't care if they came from Jesus Christ himself " yelled Dad, crossing himself in the process, "They don't fit in with the policy you gave my son a reprimand for yesterday."  He looked about the office, and saw a small, four foot tall tree in the corner as well. "Is that a Christmas tree or a holiday tree sir?, which is it?"

M. Dingwall looked up and said, "It's a Christmas Tree, of course, haven't you ever seen a..." and he stopped. He looked at the tree, and the cards, The eyeglasses out front went back to whatever it was she was doing before Father Christmas arrived. "I see....". "You see what sir,?" asked Angus' dad, looking at the tree, and the cards and ignoring the eyeglasses with the reedy voice out front.

"I see your point....It's Christmas, not holdaymas, or xmas....it's Christmas, and I followed policy that I myself am not following myself. I will change that right now....imagine, it took a visit from Father Christmas to get me to see the light..." laughed M. Dingwall, Principal.

"My boy Angus, will be in class, expecting to be told that he can give out his cards to the rest of his friends as he was yesterday...am I understood M. Dingwall, Princinpal?" asked Dad.

"Yes sir, the mark will be stricken from the record and his cards will be returned....I appreciate you coming in to clear up this little misunderstanding...even if you didn't ..." "I know...have an appointment.". M Dingwall stood to shake Dad's hand as he left, and as Dad reached the door, he said "Merry Christmas". Dad thought a bit, smiled at what he had just accomplished and said to M. Dingwall, Principal...."and yes...It is A MERRY CHRISTMAS".
Vida Rootz Jun 2014
Mum
Mum u were amazing.
Mum you we're my rock
when this daughter of yours did things wrong her actions you never knocked ,
instead you gave her your advice and support along the way

its a shame you had to go, had to leave the earth that day.
I was only about the age of 26 I was in Bristol u lived in the sticks that day will always haunt me those words ill never miss that you'd gone and left your body the sweet thoughts i can't dismiss

Mum you took your time to guide me, just shower me with love but now when this girl has to make these tuff decisions you help her from above
I appreciate and love u these feelings will never change
You will alway be that part of me as we very much the same.

Mum I know you would be happy, to know that now I found my dad ,
It with amazing reunion the new love they gave was vast.

I have this new wonderful family, but mum i ant going to lie it was so hard in the beginning,
to except this love and smile ,
but now I love them dearly and of this they may now know as it was hard to show emotion, as showing feels was no go

Mum I am so happy to feel this love once more it gives me the strength to carry on now as a person i can grow.

But now mum ,I have a new mum that will never replace u of course ,she threats me as her own and welcomed me from abroad . She didn't have to do so, to share her love with me, but For this I am truly great full I have another chance you see. so Chinyelu I thank you for your welcome your love and acceptance, happy Mother's Day to both my mums I look upon u with respect and love you are both so amazing both so strong.
I am truly blessed to have you, you really are divine so I wish you both a happy Mother's Day now I'm ending with this line.

Happy Mother's Day


Ruth's Rootz
Mum sad happy love thanks
Gaffer Jun 2016
It's lovely outside, I think I’ll go knickerless today.
You don’t want to do that, you might get knocked down by a bus.
Why would that make any difference.
You always have to wear clean underwear when getting knocked down by a bus.
Do you make these things up.
Did your mum never tell you, you always have to wear clean underwear when leaving the house, just incase you get knocked down by a steamroller or such.
My mum said a lot of things, luckily for me I grew up, unlike some people I may add.
Hardly my fault my mum has to come round and cook for me.
Cook, she cuts your sausages, you’re a child.
Sure she’d cut your carrots if you asked her.
Think I’ll wear pants now, you’re driving me nuts.
You’re not wearing white, are you.
Why, does mummy not allow white.
I’m more thinking of the guys in the office.
What, what's it got to do with them.
It’s got a lot, you don’t want the guys glimpsing boring white, put black on.
The guys in my office are too busy to be perving at my underwear.
Guys are never too busy, it's our job in life to check the girls out.
My last boyfriend was never like this.
That’s because your last boyfriend usually wore your knickers.
He just liked the feel of women's underwear.
How is his hormone treatment coming along, is he wearing your bra yet.
Get knotted mummy’s boy.
Talking about mummy’s, I’m taking yours running tonight. Hope she’s wearing the skimpy shorts.
That’s another thing, you told my mum she shouldn’t wear pants under her shorts, why would that be.
Might be something to do with the leg massage I give her after our run.
You are sick.
Your mum’s a cougar. Actually, just thinking about her is getting me hot, fancy a quickie.
Get stuffed, just get me to work without mentioning my mum, underwear, or any other perversions in your sick brain.
Do my best, white pants.
I’ll get you in the car, need to get something.
Nice legs lover, did I glimpse black ******* there.
Well, you said it, we need to keep the guys happy, any luck one of them will ask me out.
Well if they do, tell them you’re not available this weekend.
And why would that be.
Cos I’m taking you to Paris.
Maybe I don’t want to go to Paris.
Oh you will, five star hotel, tickets to see that weird female singer you love.
Okay, I’ll need a new outfit, maybe a few outfits. Will I need **** underwear.
Strangely enough no. Me and your mum bought you some.
The Black Beast Sep 2016
That mid-April morning, back in 1995
I came into this world with the help to survive
Protected from harm, even against my own will
Encouraged to prosper and not to stay still

I see posts that say "My mum is a queen"
"My mum's the best mum the world's ever seen"
I'm not saying they're wrong, or that I disagree
But my mum is the reason that I became me

Yeah, she's made some mistakes out of anger or fear
But whenever I'm troubled, she lends me her ear
She showed me her belief and gave me her trust
As I make new choices, she helps me adjust

I'm glad to be me and having her makes me proud
She's brought sunshine to me when the world brought me cloud
Now, she has her ways that would drive you all mad
But she's the best **** mum that I could have had
The room was sparsely furnished

But the room was very clean

"I think my mum will like this"

said Veronica McQueen

"The bed, folds up from both ends"

"And it's heated too, you'll see"

"there's a dresser in the corner"

"With a spot for a TV"

She walked on to the window

Looked on out to see the view

She could see a little chapel

With a pathway out there too

"The residents...they're treated well ?"

Veronica asked Joan

"They're given the best sort of care"

"But here, they're not alone"

A tour around the grounds then

settled down poor Ronnies nerves

She was sure her Mum would feel at home

It's the best that she deserves

But, before she signed the papers

She chose to walk on down the path

It was gravel with some thyme beside

Part way down...a small bird bath

She saw a man just sitting

On a bench...all by himself

He was dressed up all in green

He looked like a little elf

He was talking to the wind she thought

For no one was around

But, she realized whom he spoke too

When he rose and looked around

He walked up to a marker

And stooping low on his old knees

He kissed the stone so gently

Beneath the lowing trees

Veronica then left him

And she hurried to the house

She did not want to scare him

She was as quiet as  a mouse

She said "I'll sign the papers"

"It's so nice and peaceful here"

So the two finished their dealings

With a solemn "Thank you dear"

Ronnie's mum...now that's a story

single mother all her life

Ronnie never knew her father

Her mum was never someone's wife

She worked two jobs for quite a time

She was always working hard

So Veronica could grow up with

A nice house with a yard

A few years back the doctors said

ALS had ventured forth

And that Ronnie would need expert help

They said, for what it's worth

Well, two years in...past what they said

Ronnie had to find a place

Where her mother could close out her life

With dignity and grace

She'd found the perfect hospice

At St. Albans by the shore

It had all that she needed

She just couldn't ask for more

By the time they moved her mother in

Her voice was lost inside

But the staff could see, this woman

was full of love and pride

She knew where she would end up

Ronnie took her down to see

Her mother's voice box spoke out

"I'm so glad you're here with me"

"You've become a strong, young woman"

"One I'm proud to call my own"

"You're a woman in my image"

"You're more special than you know"

Veronica, looked out to sea

And she thought of the old man

Who she saw such a short time ago

On the day she turned and ran.

She picked a spot and wheeled her Mum

Beneath the bending, willow tree

She stood behind her and she looked

At the view out to the sea

There were sailboats, seagulls, beachcombers

She could see from where she stood

She would lay her mum to rest right here

And she thought, "yes, this is good"

Two weeks past by and Ronnies Mum

Was taken in the night

They said she didn't suffer

And that all would be all right

A service was held down the path

And they laid her mum to rest

There were staff there, and Veronica

And this old man in his vest

He said "My Mary's over there"

"Beside the bench, beneath the tree"

"I'm sure they'll be the best of friends'

"And if they can, why don't we?"

Ronnie stared at this poor man

and she said " That would be nice"

He then said "now, we're friend my dear"

"Come with me, we'll have a slice"

He'd brought some ginger cake along

For his vistit to his wife

Now, twice weekly he and Ronnie

Spend time taling 'bout their life

Now these two could share their stories

And give the dead what they deserved

At that small St. Albans Hospice

By the seaside  round the curve.
Terry Collett Dec 2013
Della walks
with her father
onto the beach.
Sand, sun,

sea going out.
Sea,
she says
love it.

Her father looks at her,
takes in her smile,
her well kempt hair,
the tip of her tongue

resting there
on her lower lip.
Did your mother
pack your swim gear?

Packed it in my bag.
Where's the bag?
She looks back
towards the car

parked by the road.
You must try
to remember
these things.

I did, then I forgot.
It doesn’t help.
Angry sounds.
He sighs.

Stay here, don't move,
he says
and walks back
towards the car,

over the sand,
hands in the pockets
of his black jeans.
She watches him walk.

Angry walk,
she thinks.
She sees him
most Saturdays,  

sometimes Sundays,
since
the divorce.
He gets to the car

and takes out
her pink bag,
locks the car
and treads back

towards her,
his face dark
and unsmiling.
Like smiling faces.

There you are,
he says.
She takes the bag
and they

walk down
towards the sea.
He gets out
a large beach towel

and lays it down
on the sand.
Here we are.
Sea smells salty.

It does.
If you sniff it
it gets up your nose.
He nods,

gets out a book
and begins to read.
Makes your nose feel salty.
She looks at her father,

he stares at the page
of his book.
Can I go into the sea?
Be careful.

She stare sat him.
Shall I get on
my swimming
costume here?

Yes,
he says,
turning a page.
People will see me.

They do.
Mum holds the towel
up around me.
He sighs and gets up

and gets out
a large coloured towel.
OK then,
get your gear on.

She takes out
her swimming costume
from her bag
and drops the bag

on the sand.
She looks at him.
Mum puts the towel
around

me so people
can't see me.
He sighs
and puts the towel

around her,
stares out
at the beach.
She takes off

her cat patterned top
and drops it down.
Then she removes
her skirt and underwear

and quickly,
but awkwardly
puts on her costume.
He looks at ships

on the horizon.
Seagulls,
bathers,
families and lovers.

She pulls at the costume
to get it comfortable.
Done it.
Good.

He folds the towel,
puts it beside him
and begins to read again.
She stands looking at the waves.

Mum walks me to the waves.
Why?
In case I slip.
You're a big girl now.

What if I slip?
He lifts his eyes
from the page.
You won't.

Mum holds my hand in case.
Your mum does
a lot of things
I don't.

He reads on.
She stares at him
for a few moments,
then unhappily

walks down
towards the waves.
She has her hands out
like a tightrope walker,

to balance herself
over the sharp stones,
here and there.
She reaches the area

where the waves rush in.
She stands there looking out.
She sniffs the air. Salty.
People around her stare.

A child laughs.
Two boys whisper.
She walks into the water.
The sea is warm,

rushes over her feet.
She clutches her hands together,
looks at the boys.
Warm water.

Wet, too.
The boy grins.
She's a Mongol,
the other boy says.

Funny features,
the other says,
big lips, and tongue.
She looks back at her father

reading up on the beach.
She paddles deeper.
Leaves the boys behind.
The waves rush against her knees.

She claps her hands,
hugs herself,
feels hers small *******.
The sea is crowded

with bathers.
Noise, laughter
and shouts fill the air.
She stands still.

A boy splashes her.
She puts her hands
over her face
to keep the water

from her eyes.
He rushes back
towards the beach,
laughing.

The water rushes
to her thighs.
Best not get out too far, deary,
a woman says nearby.

I'm Della,
not Deary,
she says.
The woman nods and smiles,

well be careful, Della.
The sea can be  dangerous.
Mum says
be careful.

Yes, you must.
Mum's not here.
Who's with you?
My dad's with me.

Where is he?
Della points towards the sand
where her father
is reading his book.

Be careful, Della,
the woman says.
Be careful, mum says.
Yes, be careful,

the woman repeats.
The woman gazes at Della.
Sees her vacant expression.
Her daughter died

the year before.
Drowned.
Della  looks back
at her father

sitting reading.
Mum watches me.
So she should.
Dangerous place the sea.

Della stares
at the incoming
rush of waves,
loud shush of the sea.

Your dad should watch you, too,
the woman says.
He reads.
He should watch you.

Della hugs herself tighter.
Best not get in
much deeper, Della dear,
the woman says.

Deep.
Gets to my thighs.
Yes, higher
than you ought to go.

Frightened.
Let's go back,
the woman says.
Della clutches

her arms tighter.
I fell last time,
and got salty water
in my mouth.  

Sickly.
Was sick after.
In the car.
The woman smiles.

Let's walk back  
to your dad.
The woman holds out
a hand.

Della hesitates.
Her father
is reading his book.
She puts out her hand

and holds
the woman's hand
and they walk up
towards the beach.

The warm hand holds her.
Far from
her father's sight
and the deep sea's reach.
Raj Arumugam Dec 2012
Little David loses mum
in the big shop
and he runs around
and between aisles
shouting for his mum
“Monica! Monica! Monica!”
he shouts for his mum
and finally mum appears
and  she admonishes her son:
“You know you shouldn’t call me Monica,
son – always call me mum”


“I know mum,” says respectful little David
*“but you can see the shop is full
of mums and mums!”
...another poem in the series on the silly season...
Casey Lived in a small terraced house right on the corner of Green bottle road. It over looked some tall green trees in the neighborhood. Casey wasn't a very popular girl because of her rather strange ways, She certainly had an obsession with pyjamas. Everywhere you went in Casey's
house they were piles of pyjamas drying on the clothes rail .
Their were all sorts of colors most of them in a foral design and the list was endless She even had red tartan pyjamas never nighties as Casey never liked them she always preferred to cover her legs and they were practical and very warm. In Casey's draw upstairs she had ten pairs in each drawer that made a grand total of twenty pairs. why would you need all these pairs of pyjamas she could open up a shop tomorrow
Why Casey lived for her pyjamas every single morning her mum would be shouting at her to get dressed for school but often she just ignored her mum, this would upset her a lot in fact Casey's Mum was at her wits end, she had had quite enough..
So Her mum decided to do something about it she emptied all the drawers and bagged the lot and handed them into the charity shop. Her Mum left her just three pairs in her drawer. When she arrived home from school and discovered her drawers had been emptied of all her favorite
Pyjamas she threw a big tantrum but her mum didn't take any notice of her she deeply regretted spoiling her so much over the years and now
if it wasn't to late she would try and be a much better parent and start to discipline her children in future and guide them in the right way for adulthood. When Casey calmed down a little bit her mum sat her down to explain why she got rid of her other pyjamas soon Casey began to release that she did have a problem and she was to be coming selfish
she apologized to her Mum and they both hugged and hugged and soon they began to laugh it off....
His mum was ever so pleased
he took care to be born
at half past seven,
after her last shift
on Friday.
At the sweet factory

His mum was ever so pleased
that he refused her breast
and took to Auntie
and mum went to work
on Monday.
At the sweet factory

His mum was ever so pleased
when he walked to his school
the by-himself boy
and mum went to work
as usual.
At the sweet factory

His mum was ever so pleased
when he left her life
the now-married man
and mum went to work
to live her life.
At the sweet factory

His mum was ever so pleased
when he left this life
to talk to his god
and mum went to work
for now and for ever.
At the sweet factory
My poem of today is utterly depressing. a single factory-working mother with no life outside her job. She has a son but no love and never any joy
"
A story about a mothers relationship with her daughter...
"
Casey Lived in a small terraced house right on the corner of Green bottle road. It over looked some tall green trees in the neighborhood. Casey wasn't a very popular girl   because of her rather strange ways, She certainly had an obsession with pajamas. Everywhere you went in Casey's
house they were piles of pajamas drying on the clothes rail .
Their were all sorts of colors most of them in a floral design and the list was endless She even had red tartan pajamas never nighties as Casey never liked them she always preferred to cover her legs and they were practical  and very warm. In Casey's draw upstairs she had ten pairs in each drawer that made a grand total of twenty pairs.  why would you need all these pairs of pyjamas  she could open up a shop tomorrow
Why Casey lived for her pyjamas every single morning her mum would be shouting at her to get dressed for school but often she just ignored her mum,  this would upset her a lot in fact Casey's Mum was at her wits end,  she had had quite enough..
So Her mum decided to do something about it she emptied all the drawers and bagged the lot and handed them into the charity shop. Her Mum left her just three pairs in her drawer. When she arrived home from school and discovered  her drawers had been emptied of all her favorite
Pajamas she threw a big tantrum but her mum didn't take any notice of her she deeply regretted spoiling her so much over the years and now
if it wasn't to late she would try and be a much better parent and start to discipline her children in future  and guide them in the right way for adulthood. When Casey calmed down a little bit her mum sat her down to explain why she got rid of her other pajamas soon Casey began to release that she did have a problem and she was to be coming selfish
she apologized to her Mum and they both hugged and hugged and soon they began to laugh it off....
naz Mar 2015
Dear mum,

Thank you.
For teaching me how
to survive through life,
instead of helping me
past my maths tests.

Thank you.
For pointing out all
of the friends that'd make
me feel torn apart,
because ****** they did.

Thank you.
For teaching me that
love is not needed in order
to be able to live.

Thank you.
For telling me I have to thrive
and try the hardest I could,
in order to be better then
all the other pretty girls.

Thank you.
For telling me to scream
on top of my lungs,
for whenever I felt abused
or suffocated.

Mum.
I've forgotten the survival tips
you've kindly engraved
into my skull and I still haven't
past a single maths test.

Mum.
I feel so lonely,
because you've pointed out
everyone I ever said hello to.

Mum.
I thought about what you
said about love and it drives
me insane that I don't know
what it feels like.

Mum.
I tried my hardest to be better
than everyone, but it was
selfish and wrong to compete
myself with other people.  

Mum.
I've been screaming every night,
as loud as I could. I've been
twisting and turning, I've been
punching walls and bleeding,
I've been begging and begging
and begging
and
begging and
begging
and
begg-ing
for you to stop abusing me
with your theories of life
and perfection
because my lungs need oxygen
and my soul needs some light
and my heart needs a little love,
SO UNLESS YOU'RE GOING
TO GIVE ME ANY OF THOSE
- GET OFF OF MY THROAT,
I CAN'T BREATHE



sincerely, n
Terry Collett Apr 2015
Yes Helen muses Id like to meet Benny by the Duke of Wellington but to ask Mum first and I dont think shell mind as its Benny as she likes Benny and his mum and mine know each other and talk to each other at the school gates and when they talk they talk and yes if I ask Mum nicely and when shes not busy shell let me go but I cant leave it too long or the time will go and he will have gone if Im not at the Duke of Wellington by ten past ten this morning has as he is going to the herbalist shop to buy liquorice sticks and sarsaparilla by the glassful and Benny says it makes blood so if I drink a pint I will make a pint of blood and hopefully I wont spillover with blood she waits a few minutes while her mother puts away the shopping Helen had bought home from Baldys and looking at her mother making sure her mothers features did not show too much stress and timing it right that was the key Benny told her once timing is the key he said her mother walks around the kitchen seemingly busy the baby crawling around her mothers feet and the smell of nappies boiling on the stove steam rising smell of it Mum she asks can I go out with Benny to the herbalist shop and buy some liquorice sticks and sarsaparilla? her mother picks up the baby she hugs him close smells his rear end pulls a face what did you say? her mother asks holding baby a little distance away from her arms out stretched walking to the put-down table over the bath and placing baby down can I go with Benny to the herbalist shop and get some sarsaparilla and liquorice sticks? Helen repeats standing with fingers crossed behind her back when are you wanting to go? her mother asks unpinning babys ***** and the smell erupting into the room and air as soon as I am allowed Helen says trying not to breath in hoping her mother will say yes but her mother hesitates her features ******* up her fingers pulling back the offending ***** and dropping it in a pail at her feet bring me a clean ***** from the other room Helen and some talcum power and some cream and best get some other safety pins as these are a bit well not fit to put on again until theyve been washed o keep still you little perisher dont move your legs so and no dont piddle on me go on then Helen dont dawdle so Helen walks into the other room and collects a ***** from the fireguard and talcum powder and cream and pins from the bag by the chair and takes them to her mother who is struggling to hold the baby in one place and clean up the smelling liquid and mess  and waving a hand in front of her face to give her fresher air give them here then girl I cant wait all day and here hold his legs the little figit so I can get him clean properly Helen pulls a face and carefully reaches over to try and hold her brothers legs still while her mother attempts to clean him up but her brothers legs move at a pace and hes quite strong for one so small she thinks hold him hold him her mother says Helen does her best for a little girl not yet in double figures there done it her mother says hes done now right take him and put him in the cot in the other room while I wash these nappies out can I? Helen asks can I go? go where? what do you want now? her mother says to go to the herbalist with Benny Helen asks he asked me this morning while I was getting the shopping at Baldys her mother put on the kettle and empties the nappies in the big sink when did you want to go? as soon as I am allowed Helen says gazing at her mother through her thin wired thick lens glasses hoping her mum will say yes off you go well you cant always rush off you know not when I may need you after all youre my big girl the oldest of the tribe but as youve been good this one time you can go but mind the roads and keep with Benny and if you need to go to loo make sure its a clean place and put some toilet paper on the seat you dont know who sits on them things ok I will Helen says trying to recall all her mothers instructions can I go now? she asks hoping her mother will not change her mind at the last minute best go now then her mother says its nine fifty nine fifty? Helen says what's that mean? ten minutes to ten her mother says o right Helen says and rushes into the passage way and put on your raincoat it looks like rain her mother calls out I got it Helens says and rushes out the door and down the stairs carefully not wanting fall down the steep steps she holds on to the stair rail and then out into the street and bright fresh air and dull clouds and she walks along Rockingham Street under the railway bridge and there he is Benny hands in his jeans pockets his hair and quiff creamed down and his hazel eyes gazing at her blimey he says youre earlier than I thought youd be he takes in her hair plaited into two and her thin wire framed glasses making her eyes larger than they are had to help Mum with my baby brother she says hed messed his ***** and Mum had to clean him up and needed me to help and gosh the smell Benny enough to make you feel sick and anyway Im here now o but I havent money I forgot to ask Mum for money she says biting a lip looking back towards where shed come I got money Benny says rattling coins in his jeans pocket she smiles and looks at him he gives her the kind of smile she likes the kind that makes her feel safe and wanted and she loves the coat he wears with the odd buttons and and his quiff of air and his warm what shall we do now stare.
A GIRL AND HER MOTHER AND A BOY AND MEETING IN LONDON IN 1955.
When mum died,
The public litter bins became   the mangers that sheltered my dinner.
When mum died,
I became a wardrobe of reekish rags,a popular carteen for flies When mum died,
The streets became my nest and the noisy mosquitoes my bedsharers
When mum died,
The dark clouds roofed me in rainy days and nights
When mum died,
The wet winds give me warmth on cold days and nights
And the sun pelted on me ice on warm days and nights
When mums died,
I became a family farm ox instead of the lawyer I dreamt of
When mum died,
I knew i lost my goddess on earth.

— The End —