Creepy Creep Creeping

Creep_Film_Still-570x380

She didn’t want to know,

y’know

She didn’t want

to see

Her man had been

behind her back

creepy

creep

creeping

Another in denial,

sat

She really couldn’t

believe

He really couldn’t

have done that

creepy

creep

creeping

Your heart

is not safe

it says

your children

are in danger

the man you thought

was ‘dad’ material

turns out to be

that stranger…

creepy

creep

creeping

© Kait King, 2016

A Theft of Burglars

A theft of burglars

A theft of burglars

crept into the night

they knew where

they were going

they had a place in sight

As they scuttled through

the darkened street

you could feel their energy

tense…

but upbeat

They were not all that young

in fact they were nearly all forty

and had been slapped on the wrist –

many times,

told they were naughty.

They all knew this time

that it was not the same

They were tired of pilfering

the small stuff

and wanted

bigger game

So the hunters they clambered

and climbed over a wall

Avoiding CCTV cameras

and a police phone call

Entering the darkened house

gold and cash

was all they saw

It hadn’t really dawned on them

there were people there

at all

So when the mother,

who was all alone,

got out of bed to

defend their home,

The burglars, they

did not take flight

the burglars, they stayed

and put up a fight

The burglars, they took off

as murderers into the night

and the murderers, they knew

that they had taken

a life

© Kait King, 2016

Something Nefarious

Nefarious

Something nefarious

is going on

Something deceitful

something quite wrong

Then something fantastic

is happening here

Someone’s falling in love

someone finally cares

Now something sad

has taken place

She can’t even bear

to look at his face

So something shocking

has now occurred

She killed them both

Have you heard?

Something nefarious

is going on

Something deceitful

something quite wrong

© Kait King, 2015

Is a child molester worse than a child killer?

is a child molester worse

I just want to clarify that without a doubt – no form of abuse or harm, whatsoever to any living thing, is alright by me. I spend most of my waking moments and my work towards protecting our kids and vulnerable populations like animals, the elderly and handicapped as well. That was my whole focus for completing my Criminology degree – to be an advocate and a voice for those who cannot speak for themselves. With my psyche background, curiosity and life experiences I am led to many thoughts. Some I didn’t even know I would contemplate before I started my journey into crime and the criminal mind (as it were :)) I myself, have an analytical mind and like to have answers to things until there are no more questions left to wonder! And so with this in mind, I wonder if a child molester/abuser is worse than a child killer? I think to myself at least the child is dead at the hands of the killer and not turned into the living dead by the pedophiles in the world? My beliefs allow me to believe that the spirit of the murdered child will get a chance to return to the world if that is what existence means, but like I say – the child left alive is trapped in a living hell of self-doubt and self-flagellation/torture and that’s after the abuse has ceased. Sexual molestation is usually a prolonged relationship – an ongoing grooming and manipulation in order to keep the secret and obtain what the predator wants. Sometimes this goes on for years and is often times familial, or someone known to the victim, creating more guilt and a necessity for secrecy due to shame and embarrassment. So which is worse? Either way the victim and their family suffers and never would or should anyone have to make a choice between the two, but I am curious as to others’ understanding of the actual offender. And I also believe that if we discuss things like this more, we will gain a greater understanding of the predator and how we keep our children safe… So back to my question whether the child molester is worse than the child killer? Or are they just as bad as each other because whichever way you cut it, the life of the victim is taken away – physically or life as they should know it – but gone for good so that nothing is ever the same.

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

Holiday Plans

holiday plans

You stand there

not knowing what to do

you can’t believe the Police are here

surely this isn’t true?

A blue light spins around the room

you can see the body

shadowed by gloom

It’s all surreal but what you had to do

If you hadn’t grabbed that knife

the body would be you

You look down at your shaking hands

oddly think about how free you are

to meet

your holiday plans

He can’t really be dead – why haven’t

they called an ambulance?

And again you realize …

that you are here…

just by chance
© Kait King, 2016

She is nothing like me

Nothing like me

Gingerly I type the words, wondering if I may be the only person who thinks like this. god’s daughter is turning out to be more appalling than horrific, more repulsive than disgusting. I can feel her like black tar in my mind. She calls me to write her out – to layer her like a black wedding cake, all the details – the spiders, the webs, the cockroaches, the mould and dusty aura of her mind. The corners of her life are all in shadow, a shadow I have to be brave enough to step into and feel the darkness that is god’s daughter. She wants to be created but she doesn’t want me – I am nothing to her, just like everyone else.

And she is nothing like me…

After the Fact

After the Fact

He rolled her up in the carpet

He tied her up real tight

He threw her into the trunk of his car

And screeched out into the night

He knows he must not draw attention

He must slow down his breath and calm

He drove around for hours

With her body in the back of his car

Delusional or clear of mind

It really didn’t matter

He was clear enough to clean up the mess

And removed all her blood he splattered

He contemplated water

He thought about the dump

He thought about a mountain top

He could make it look like she jumped

As dawn approached, a screaming light

His stomach started to rumble

So he drove her through the drive thru

And didn’t miss a beat or fumble

A steady hand held out dollar bills

But his eyes he kept downcast

Not a thought spared for his wife in the trunk

The love that didn’t last

© Kait King, 2015

Now ThAt’S Crazy-

Ted Bundy

Ted Bundy

Our monsters don’t look

like monsters

There is no way to tell

If they’ll share a slice of Heaven

or bring the hate of Hell

They don’t all have dangerous killer looks

they are not all uneducated and despise books

Look at Ted, a prime example

of a learned man who was extremely harmful

Ted Bundy, yes

he was an educated man

but not smart enough

to avoid the hang man

Then there’s really insane

Like Mr Ed Gein

who danced in the moonlight with his mother’s skin on his face

© Kait King, 2015