OK, I’ll open my big mouth first…

My big mouth first - depression-through-art-1

Like I mentioned in a previous post, it’s not easy talking about suicide – especially if you are directly involved on either end of that very sharp stick.  I have been on both and a lot of splinters in between.  I said it was time to talk about suicide and all of its branches that lead us there and why.  And it’s true, but I can’t expect anyone else to be prepared to talk or reach out, even to me, if I don’t do it first.  I can’t expect anyone to do something I’m not prepared to do myself.  So I’ve put myself out there, so what? I will continue to do so until things change about how we help others and ourselves.  Until we find out what more we can do to help each other to understand, identify and prevent so much pain and misunderstanding, we must keep facing the fire and get to know it very well, very very well. Just like we delve into everything else we want to find out about, understand and manage.  Why the dark shroud around suicide?  It’s time to talk.

Kait King 2020

My Mama Says

jealous_love_by_kimded-d2yttnr

Mum says

they’re just jealous!

But it doesn’t

stop them

from treating me

like dirt

The teachers say

just stay away

which is easy

if I was invisible

or didn’t mind

getting hurt

© Kait King, 2015

To My Rapist

Would you know who I was if I stood in front of you?

Would you remember my name?

That I wasn’t even thirteen when you raped me?

When you shared me with your brother while I cried?

Do you remember panting into my ear that you would still leave me a virgin?

That no one would know?

Do you know that I’ve never forgotten you,

Your name,

Your face,

Your smell,

Your breath,

Your whisper….

This could read like a love story, yet all I felt from you was nothing.

Like I was nothing.

I meant nothing

I was worth nothing

To you.

Do you know I went home that day and tried to kill myself – and several times after that….

You would never know the harm you bestowed on me that day, you and your foolish, fumbling brother.

You don’t know how I’ve carried this around my whole life. I paid and kept paying while you and your brother languish in ignorant bliss.

You have no idea how many times the experience you gave me  has crept in and corrupted my life.

You have no idea that you forever changed me.

You single-handedly changed my life’s path.

You changed who I was supposed to be….

And I’ll never forgive you for that.

Kait King 14th March 2024

Chocolate for my Mind

Chocolate for mymind

Tripping

spilling

falling

dropping

words come tumbling out

Hedonistic

realistic

possibly artistic

like chocolate for my mind

are the words from my soul

replete

resplendent

and resonate

to make me feel whole

© Kait King, 2017

What can we do about child abuse? Phase One – Sexual

I would just like to say this is purely my opinion based on the knowledge and research I have undertaken. I would like to also note that I have absolutely nothing against consenting adults indulging in whatever they agree upon but this is not the case with child abuse. Apologies in advance if I offend anyone, although, not if you’re a paedophile or an abuser or violator of any kind!

1.) Understand the Paedophile

There is no race, country, religion, creed, colour or status that child abuse does not touch. With or without; money, love, two parents, exceptional education or anything and everything money can or cannot buy, will not identify who will and who will not be touched by child abuse. The innate behaviour of a paedophile can’t be changed. I use the word innate as it is – it is a preference that a paedophile is behaviourally, innately (not by choice – like being homosexual) attached to and can’t change. For example, I am a straight female – heterosexual. There is no amount of counselling, medication, psychiatric, religious or any other kind of “help” to be offered to me to change the fact that I am heterosexual – you cannot counsel me into being a lesbian or a fetishist or to like B&D if that is not part of my reptilian brain sexuality and not who I, innately, am.

Perhaps if we took more of an attitude that paedophiles cannot be rehabilitated (as science realised with homosexuality – it is their sexuality and not a choice), perhaps then less harm would come to our children. The majority of paedophiles who go through rehabilitation programmes re-offend again and very quickly. How would you go through life without sexual gratification, particularly during the peak of your hormonal life without any sexual gratification even though there are numerous opportunities for you to fulfil that desire – and yet you can not. This is irrational and unreasonable to expect of someone’s sexuality. Sexuality is what we are hot-wired for as human beings. It is what makes the world turn. So with that being said, with sexuality such a massive part of our being as human beings to survive – how on earth can we possibly expect a known paedophile not to re-offend?

We look at the paedophile through our own eyes and perception – a “non-pedocentric” view, whereas we need to know how a paedophile perceives the world and his opportunity, his innateness and where he can be tripped up. We need to do extensive research into common identifiers paedophiles use to select a child to groom, whether on-line or in the real world scenario. They will be very different scenarios, also whether familial or non-familial grooming. The majority of offending against children was familial, but now with the internet and the availability that strangers have to our children, this is swaying. We need to do everything – not something – but everything to protect OUR children the world over. A society should be measured by the way it takes care of its’ vulnerable populations, not by how many meetings/summits/discussions a country pays for to discuss which assets should be sold or a lot of hot air where nothing changes but the hotel break was lovely and the food was great! For who’s benefit?

This is just the start of something I would like to continue writing about – this is Part One of goodness knows how many pieces, as this topic is fricken massive, but needs to be addressed. It is something that eats away at my heart and soul every day and so I hope whether you agree, disagree, have other stories, please share, please get involved because the more we talk about this, the more we find out, the more we can change. I mean, imagine if we could find out that the majority of paedophiles pick children who, for example, don’t make eye contact or wear the colour yellow – we would at least have something to work with. We must empower our children and remove power from the paedophile. I believe in the 35c solution for paedophiles – or use them for testing instead of our innocent animals – either way, they are taking up OUR kids air that they should not have to fear breathing anywhere at any time.

© Kait King, 2015

In Phase 2 I would like to continue with addressing the innate behaviour of the paedophile and the impossibilities of changing this, but with regards to desire and not just behaviour.

Junkie Corner and Gangster Avenue

Who’s hanging where

and why are they hanging here?

Are they sucking up the light?

Or just too noisy in the night?

Have the neighbors had enough

Are the gangs a tad too tough?

Do they scare you with their masks

and their everyday drug tasks?

Standing on a corner street

a clusterfuck of hopeless

listening to some grind beat

you just need to smoke, pop, toke this

there is no other option

but for crap minimum wage

Nothing there that stops them

And lucky to reach old age

© Kait King, 2015

The Writers’ Blogk: Observation 4

  1. Integrity is everything and open-mindedness is anything when you write, whether for yourself or for the masses.

Summer in my Heart

summer in my heart

The grass squeaks

beneath my feets

Cold steals well into

my bones

Chilly cows in

frosty fields

complain in

mooing moans

The sun is

shining watery bright

glistening drips from

my watery nose

In the shade

of the rock garden

lies a frosty

useless hose

The dogs’ little

paws

hardly leave

a mark

It’s beautiful but

not my favourite time

I have Summer

in my heart

© Kait King, 2016

The Most Important Thing

THe most important thing racoon

She married him

when she was 23

and he was 37

She thought she’d met

Prince Charming

and he thought he’d gone

to Heaven

It didn’t take long tho’

for him to change

his song

And feel like he

was imprisoned

It happened so fast,

turned life on its arse –

she fell undeniably

and beautifully pregnant

She had her baby alone

while he drank and whored

in their home

No, it hadn’t been long

he was just bored

and it was just wrong

He had already been here

twice in his life

He had other children

and more than one wife

So with dignity

and as a lady

she took nothing

with her

just her baby

She didn’t want half

of the furniture

or a share of

the bling

She knew

she had kept

the most important thing

© Kait King, 2015

Blood Bright

Blood bright 2, blood

Blood bright

and sharp

as a knife

Twisted as

a hemp rope

Gettin’ into

my life

Deep, dark

whisper

coarse as a

saw

Asking me

to write evil

out

more, more….

more

© Kait King, 2015

When I Sing

me-singing-at-howick-show

Howick 2013

When I sing

I feel this thing

all of my body cells

join

the vibration

When my voice

comes out

and I sing of things

I care about

I feel pure elation

When my body

can’t hep but

move

As I sway and sing

the groove

This here,

this is my perfect situation

© Kait King, 2016

Music, Music – food for my soul, it spits me out and then swallows me whole

music

© Kait King, 2015

The Pearl

the pearl

pain

a grain of sand

irritating

anger making pain

the constant muse

restricted not abused

pain

as deep as a black hole

endless and whole

but from the oyster

emerges

the pearl

© Kait King, 2015

I remember you Dad

I remember you Dad

I remember being only

knee-high to a grasshopper

and you would twirl me around

you let me stand on your feet

and danced with me

while I clutched at your

chino trousers or

the creases on your business suit

You never minded

we always danced

I remember pouring your drink

two fingers of Glen Morangie

two fingers being my index and little

but not really

I mixed that whiskey with two blocks of ice

and a dash of chilled water

I remember how you would savour it

in the South African sunlight

at the end of your day

I remember the love of words and animals

you gifted to us all

your funniness

and sense of justice

I remember you telling me

to eat my crusts

so that I would grow hair on my chest

and I did – eat them, not grow hairs on my chest…

I remember you used to type

business letters on my belly

and I was an old typewriter with a runner

and a “ding!”

which tickled the hell out of me

“Dear sir” you would type

I’m shrieking with delight

And the photo’s that I have

I remember you Dad

© Kait King, 2015

With love and dedication to my incredible father – the walking Encyclopaedia, the uncapped academic – I miss you, we all do xxx

Fandamily

family-guy-3

I knew I loved this family

from the very start

It felt like I’d always been there

and we’d never been apart

With our delicious little secrets

and our family photo art

Boisterous family dinners

and cheeky, jeering remarks

Mum’s delicious orange chicken and

her cinnamon apple tart

I knew I loved this family

from the very start

© Kait King, 2016

Under Pressure

Under Pressure tumblr_nnjyvjRE7l1r5kiffo1_250

“Humans are like the weird sea creatures of the Earth,

Change the pressure and we can burst.”

Kait King 2017

A Bad Combination

bad combo

That’s a bad combination

A Lover who’s a Man

It doesn’t matter,

you see

’cause he’ll take it

if it’s free

Yeah…that’s a

bad combination

a Lover

who’s a Man

© Kait King, 2015

Letmeout!

My eyes feel

like I’ve rolled them in salt

My brain

just won’t let me sleep

I go through the stories

in my head –

blaming myself and

at fault

No one else

sees me like that

although they often find

the broken me

I’m not that hard

to interpret

My body stops me

being free

and my brain won’t

even let it

© Kait King, 2015

Somewhere Else…

Somewhere else

Sometimes I

feel like

my Soul is

desperately

trying to

escape…

Tap

Tap

Tapping

at the top

of my skull

“There’s

somewhere

else I’m

supposed to

be

Let me

out!

Set

me

free!”

© Kait King, 2018

02/04/2018

Child Abuse: Phase Two…from behaviour to desire

Understanding the Predator – Desire

Previously I discussed the behavior of the pedophile. Now I’d like to address the desire that spurns the predator into scarring our children.

Take, for example, the standard human relationship of a male and a female, or homosexual relationships as well, the straight adult male seeks a woman with say, an hourglass figure, long hair, big boobs, and maybe a small butt. Or what about a homosexual male relationship? He may, for example, be looking for someone who is tall, bulky and muscular or perhaps for someone who has an athletic build. Regardless of their sexuality, the desire to be with someone is created normally, from attraction to the adult physique – the physical is what attracts us all initially in the realm of adult relationships.

The first thing we are attracted to is what we see. That has been the norm since forever. As a woman I desire certain physical male attributes – I want a hairy chest and armpits, I like my man to be strong – have strong arms and chest, I like it that he pads around my house like a big cat – these are desirable physical attributes to me, as a straight female. We are talking purely physical attraction/desire so please keep this in mind. Straight men will have other triggers, which I’m sure we are all familiar with, like when she bends over, the way she flicks her hair back, her boobs when they squish together when she bends over, when she bends over…you know the drill! 😉

Anyway, let us assess what a paedophile must see as desirable in a child. Babies, toddlers, preschoolers, primary school kids,pre-teens – the majority of these age groups do not have a shapely figure and no breasts, no butt, no adult conversation. So is the pedophile attracted to those little cute, pudgy bodies, plump little cheeks and wispy head of hair etc? Physical attraction is what first triggers that desire, right?

What about those individuals who claim it is about control. Is it really about being socially awkward and being unable to talk to a grown woman/man? Is it then that every paedophile suffers with Asperger’s or Autism of some kind? Why don’t other socially awkward people become pedophiles then? I think it’s because it is not about control but about attraction – same principal as in the first part of Phase 1 – you cannot counsel, medicate, talk or religion me out of my sexuality – it is innate and this is why a paedophile cannot be rehabilitated.

All they will learn to do is hide their sexuality better, they will learn to be better skilled at obtaining silence from their victim/s, they will become better at saying what the professionals need to hear to let them back out into our communities. It’s a fault, it’s not fixable, you cannot rehabilitate away an individual’s sexual preference. It is that simple. The 35c solution is that simple. Parents and families who have lost kids to pedophiles, both spiritually and in life, also know it’s that simple.

Is what we have been doing so far working for us? Are our kids safe?

My Journey with Suicide

Attempt #1

I was two weeks off my 13th birthday – so yeah, I was 12 years old when this happened to me.  We lived in South Africa at the time when I was raped, by a 27 year old American man that I sort of knew.  That was the first time I thought about killing myself.  

I was still thoughtful although quite serious about ending the agony and shame.  I couldn’t look at my Mum and Dad the same way – something had changed in me and I wasn’t their lovely little girl anymore.  I was damaged, tarnished, broken, tainted – I was dirty and undeserving.  I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened and how little control I had had over anything that happened to me.  

I couldn’t live with that uncertainty at that age.  I didn’t want to live a fearful, doubting life! I had been, and should have still been, a carefree, happy twelve year old who loved horses.  Now I held secrets, anger, fear and hate.  My horse was my savior. I would cry into his mane all the time, feeling so hopeless. We would go for rides for ages or I would just lie on him, or with him, while he grazed in his paddock.  He was the only one who knew what happened.  And it ate me up.

That was the first time I contemplated suicide.  I will tell you how I tried sometime, but that’s another story.

A Survivor

Boy

I watch you grow in
the sunshine of my love
with raindrops of pure joy
you fall around me
endlessly
In the deepest, darkest shadows
You shine your brightest light
every day
every night
My baby boy
you turn my life around
Baby boy
you turn my life upside down
As the seconds with you turn into years
your fearless journey with
true innocence moves away
suddenly you’re a schoolboy
with a schoolbag
who won’t hold my hand anyway
My baby boy
you turn my life around
Beautiful boy
you turn life upside down
Strong enough to climb
the tallest tree
your big brown eyes smile down
your laughter falling like autumn
leaves
fall to cover me

© Kait King, 2015

Time

Time

Does not heal

All wounds

Time

Spent with things

Left unsaid

Leaves gaping

Endless wounds

Maybe you can

forgive yourself

before

You’re quietly dead.

Kait King ♡ April 2018

Does it Matter?

Does it matter

what color I am,

Does it matter, what color?

When I feel

just the same?

Does it matter

what faith I follow

Does it really matter, my faith?

When I can be

both deep and shallow?

Does it matter

if I’m alive or dead?

Does it matter

who it really is

When we all bleed

red?

Kait King 2018

Hindsight

Left of this curve

way in the past

where we made love

that wouldn’t last

I knew then

with that pain in my heart

And I know now

right at the start

© Kait King, 2015

The Game

It’s never easy talking about things that make us look weak in others’ eyes.  Like suicide, like depression – we know it is seen as ‘ not coping’ so we say nothing.  Saying nothing means nothing can change.  The same negative thoughts, the same repetitive hate talk, the same triggers to feeling overwhelmed don’t go away…

But it’s never OK to talk about feeling like you want to kill yourself. Nobody seems to know what to do if you have ever mentioned it to anyone, or they cry and panic and call people you just didn’t want involved.  Sometimes we mention it several times before actually committing or getting to a point of actual commitment to the act.  If a blade is going to be used, there are often preparation cuts – which can put the person off using that type of method – as it kind of hurts!  But if you want to kill yourself, you will find a way.

There is that old saying about someone attempting suicide is really a call for help.  I think in many cases this is true.  There seems to be no other answer to end the angst and pain.  That feeling like you don’t belong and want out, combined with all the spiritual stuff out there that indicates we get more than one chance at life – we’ll just get to come around again.  If you believe in God and heaven or Jesus – you believe in your salvation, you believe you will stand with Jesus on the other side.  And if you believe that when you’re dead, you’re dead – well Hell, at least the pain, confusion and suffering will have ended.

The idea of death is the idea that it will be the end of the suffering – forever, like switching off a light.  Or is it perhaps turning one on? For us?  To shine a light on something we have forever kept in the dark. It keeps happening, numbers keep increasing, children younger and younger are opting out of life – Why? Our kids seem to be more violent, suffering more and lacking resilience.

Do they think they are in a game and have more lives? The Game of Life? Pass Go and do not collect $200…

I’m no secret

I’m no secret
I’m loud and clear
I love you babe
put away your fear
I won’t leave
I won’t bow out
I promise
I’m good for it
I’ll leave you
no doubt
And all I ask
in simple return
is the love
from your heart
that I know
I have earned

© Kait King, 2015

Sleep Deep if you Dare

Sleep deep
Sleep light
Lucky you
if you
sleep tight
Sleep long
Deep sleep
Eyes closed
yet you
still weep
Eyes open
Brain awake
Each breath breathed
a life
at stake
Eyes closed
Brain aches
It seems
like an hour
each second takes
Tweaked bedclothes
Twisting dreams
When are you awake?
Never, it seems
© Kait King, 2015

Before you go out tonight…just sayin’

The crackling laughter

in a clunking room

with a crashing band

on their début

Toppling patrons

a snarling fight

scantily dressed ladies

goose-bump in the night

Security stands

dark at the door

free thinking radicals

spiral on the dance floor

Falling about

in a giggly drove

Time is up –

time to hit the road

A taxi is called

some resist and complain

they take their car keys

never to be seen again

© Kait King, 2015

Pre-Occupancy

Pre-Occupancy

So nobody’s home

Just cardboard cut-outs

posed in my brain

Memories I can’t let go

Pre-Occupancy

A way to survive

Somehow to numb

the pain

Somehow to stay

the child

Pre-Occupancy

Merely a distraction

Something to hide

any connection

Anything to avoid

taking action

Pre-Occupancy

© Kait King, 2017

The Outsider

Filling in spaces
in the game
of my Life
The map of my body
a giver of Life
Changing my places
the marker beyond
And the trouble
with you dear,
is you don’t belong

© Kait King, 2015

Like the Seasons

15478110868_cf57cafc79_b Like the seasons HiveMind

Your’e fading

on me again,

Quietly moving

away

Distancing yourself

So that you think

I won’t notice…

The bed is

our friendly

enemy

Saving us

from ourselves

and each other

It’s a waiting

game as

your brain seasons

change

And you will

be back if

you go

And we go

through

This

… again

Kait King 25/01/2020

Lovesick

I know
what’s happening
to me
He’s found
his way
in
making me think
in love story
lines
making butterflies
deep inside
me
and a sickness
I cannot recover
from

© Kait King, 2015

No Expectations

Presumed guilty

before proven innocent

the unwilling participant

Assume the best

and prepare for the worst

Expectation costs nothing

but disappointment hurts

© Kait King, 2015

Last thought in a Playground

She’s beating the

crap out of me

I want to be

retaliatory

But I can’t find a gap

to even try

and hit back

She kicks me in

my side

Everyone there wants to see

me cry

I can hear their

jeering calls

of magnified echoes

charging through halls

This strange metamorphosis

in sound

is my ticket off

the gravelly ground

And I can see myself

lying there

The group of bystanders

shout and cheer

My body, I see

crumpled like

a sack

And I never even got a chance

to throw a punch back

© Kait King, 2015

Rise Above

Jealousy
Please leave me
Let me walk free
from your grasp
Honesty
Please fill me
Set my words free
with that trust
Stupidity
Please abandon me
Let me hear twice but speak
with one voice
Integrity
Please empower me
Take over my mind and body
to make the right choice
©Kait King 2017

The Rut

My laugh is empty –
it’s lost it’s guts
I feel myself falling
into one of those ruts
That long
dark hole
I think I’ll never come back from
That “odd-one-out” feeling
that I really don’t belong

© Kait King, 2016

No Regrets

Did they say they didn’t
want to know you?
Could you pick your father out
in a crowd?
Did your mama love
and leave you
And you were left crying
out loud?
I wont’ listen to your
estranged olden day voices
when men were men
and women had no choices
Were you just a sad
disappointment?
Did they help when you
were down?
And what about now that
they are not here
Did you say the Love word
while they were still around?

© Kait King, 2015

If I could…

If I could cut out your

heart

This is how it would

feel

And the music will tell

you

How come it’s so

real

If I could cry with your

eyes

This is how it would

feel

And the words that I

sing

Is how come it’s so

real

© Kait King, 2015

Avoidance = Safe

I’ve been loved
by someone
When I wanted
to be free
And I’ve loved someone
desperately
When clearly
they didn’t
love me
I couldn’t find
a balance
I felt all men
would just hurt me
I made a choice
very purposefully
And I withdrew
from family, friends, and society
Alone
I finally could see clearly
the common denominator
in my failed relationships
was me

© Kait King, 2016