If You Enjoy My Words…

This is a DONATION

Someone suggested that I could get paid to write and that I should set up a donations page. So here goes! It feels a little awkward but this is what I would like to do full-time, write. I can't pay my bills unless I earn my way so this will be my leap of faith. Thank you for letting me believe I have wings!

NZ$10.00

Pick me

pickme

Please don’t pick me

not again

I’m terrified

so frightened I can’t

breathe

It hurts and I can’t

see

through the tears I don’t know

I’m crying

Universe,

Please stop me

now

before it’s too late

and time

steals you away

from me

too brief

to painful

this I can’t do

Please,

Please Universe

don’t pick me

© Kait King, 2015

The Slavering Beast

13ghosts bipolar schizo

He could see

and feel

a slavering beast

He could smell it’s

breath

see it’s sharpened

yellow teeth

It wanted him

to do

bad things

It felt like the

Devil with Hate

Not his usual state

of being

but any Angel

with wings

was going to be too late

It said that nobody

nobody

gave

two shits

And do everyone a

favour

Go ahead

slit your wrists

Kait King 2016

A Treasured Life

Me n my Dad

My Dad and Me

It was so sad

to watch you fade

your mind as sharp as a knife

It was so hard

to say goodbye

To such a treasured life

It made me smile

to think on you a while

and on how you loved

your wife

Your children given

all you had

you gave

a treasured life

It seems that you

are still here

although you can’t

be seen

I often talk to you

And not just

in my dreams

I hope I told you

I loved you enough

I hope you know

how much I cared

And I know

one day,

I’ll see you again

Somewhere over there…

© Kait King, 2015

Sweet Angel

sweet-angel

You just don’t look

the same

Your skin so

pearlescent white

Your energy has

left us now

You’ve gone

towards the light

Your hand and cheek

cools quickly

A deathly stillness

about you, sets

If only you could

calm your family

And tell them not

to fret

You will be close

while they need you

They may even

know

But there will come a time

Sweet Angel,

when you really

have to go

© Kait King, 2016

Never Quite

Never Quite

You never quite got to be here

You never quite got to breathe in air

I never quite got to touch your face

take you home

show you your place

I never quite got to watch you grow

I never quite got to get to know

you, your love

I never quite got to hold your tiny hand

or do anything else that I had planned

I’ll never quite hear you say “Mum you were right!”

Or get to read bedtime stories at night

You’ll never quite miss me when I am not there

Sadly our lives, this time, we’ll not share…

© Kait King, 2015

Phantom Job Syndrome

phantom job syndrome

So in a nutshell, I’m at my psychiatrists – I’ve gone from hero to zero and today during my “session” about learning how to be a zero (that’s my perception), I was asked what it was like now having to re-define myself. what did I miss about my job? Funny thing was, the first thing I thought about was the office chair races we used to have at 3 am on night shift. Wheeling ourselves frantically up and down the hallway while a skeleton shift jangled its bones of authority at the miscreants in society, ourselves in the watch house excluded, of course. I smiled to myself, thinking of those nutty days which were not so long ago, but were so far out of reach it may as well have happened in the Pleistocene age. Then the loss welled up in me and I realised I would not be having any more office chair races, not at that Police station or any other at any time of the day or night…ever. So my doctor is great and hands me the tissues and asks me what’s happening and I say I can’t let it go. That this is like when those who have lost a limb feel that it is still there, still very much a part of them, Phantom Leg Syndrome – and that I have Phantom Job Syndrome. She laughed and said this was a great analogy and I felt grateful that she understood.

I just wished I could be The Phantom. I didn’t say that bit – I thought we’d end on a good note 😉

My Love

my love

The days draw painfully long,

my love

without you in it

The night a torturous silence,

my love

when you are not in my bed

A meal for two,

my love

is now a punch in my gut

and I cannot eat a morsel

thank you,

my love

let me thank you for

a lesson learned

As I never would have believed,

my love

that I would never be with you

© Kait King, 2017

Whoever you are

I just want you to know

that you are not alone

I know it sounds empty –

we can’t talk

I can’t hug you

I can’t invite you into my home

But I need you to know

that there is someone out there

someone who also feels the same

is sick of the same game

and shares the same fears

If I can make you understand

this is not what defines you

but the choices you make

from this day forward

even when you don’t know

what to do

© Kait King, 2015

A Seeker

A seeker

I don’t want to be here

I don’t want to be here alone

I don’t want to be here alone in my empty zone

I want to love

I want to love again

I want to love again and be free of all this pain

I can’t do it

I can’t just let it go

I can’t just let it go and pretend I didn’t know

My soul aches

My soul and my heart ache badly

They ache for man’s cruel inhumanity

I’m a seeker

I’m a seeker of love, peace and harmony

I’m a seeker – please tell me you’ll follow me

© Kait King, 2015

No matter what

no matter what

No matter what you’re gonna say

I’ve gotta try and stay away

to keep my heart

my heart

You scream into my brain

like an uncontrolled speed train

I’ll go insane

I don’t even know my own name

No matter what I try and dream

you make me feel I am unseen

and it just stays the same

in the common denominator game

So we’re wasting all this time

ignoring all the signs

we sit in freeze frame

it just stays the same

I’m the common denominator

in the common denominator game

© Kait King, 2015

A 3-ringed circus, I think not!

Capitalism let you down

Capitalism let you

down

Along with your mother

and that loser

town

you grew up in

Government departments and

those non-profit organizations

People in parliaments

more in common with silver spoons

than the man on the street

those every day people

The dulcet tones of

a dead-eye “leader”

Inverted comma’s used as

I feel I’ve been cheated

in a life-lie of lip-service

when all the politicians do

is run a single-ringed circus

and poorly

© Kait King, 2015

Eddie G

Eddie G

A lisp

a whispered hiss

With a gristle hustle

and a deathly shuffle

you wind your way

back home

There’s a twist

and a freakish glow

in a freak show

the decaying beat

of a drum

hiss

a whispered kiss

of a driveling fool

your hunting days

are done

this

flayed lantern skins

bones used as tools

a soup bowl

not a soup bowl but

a human skull

© Kait King, 2015