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
kait king
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 kitchen bitch’s bliss
In my kitchen
like a mad scientist
mixing and concocting
a kitchen bitch’s bliss
I stir the witch’s cauldron
a punch of that
a pinch of this
many mouths share muffled mmmm’s
a kitchen bitch’s bliss
© Kait King, 2015
The River
With such confusion
I’m walking through a jungle
of desert
Holding
like a dam of emotion
my feelings –
when really I want to be
the river
rushing to meet and make
an ocean of you
Falling so crashingly in love
will it be a bad landing?
I draw our names in the sand
and you carve your place in my heart
© Kait King, 2015
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 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
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
Oh no, I can’t get over it…
Somehow you get through – it’s not even that you learn to live with these things – they stay in our lives forever as part of who we are. In fact these are the things that make us who we are. They used to say this kind of suffering was character building. That may or may not be so, for me, it allows great reflection and understanding of my capacity to love and give love and in turn what it means to lose that.
One of the annoying things friends and family expect, is for you to “get over it” after a certain amount of time – whatever that time is. But there is nothing to get over. You can’t just imagine it’s behind you – things are not behind us, they are all a part of us. We carry them with the sum of ourselves. Maybe by putting things behind us we let our guard down, we love too easily again, we get hurt so much more because of that. Taking the good and the bad experiences is what makes you the person you are. Are you a fighter? Do you run away? Are you persistent? Do you give up? Whatever you do, you have to live with it – you don’t learn to live with it – there is no manual. You have no choice, choice has been removed from this section of your life and a loss of some kind has left a crater and a giant rock in the same place. Luckily the giant rock plugs up a lot of the feelings for a while – this is often known as shock. Eventually the putridness of your trapped feelings in this hole in your heart starts building up a mass of toxic gasses which must be expelled. This build up, over any period of time (as long as it takes you), causes a massive explosion. The giant rock is blasted apart from the hole in your heart. The tiny splinters of angst, hurt, devotion, honor,disbelief, love and any other betrayed related feeling you can imagine, is dug deeply into your heart and mind. Each little splinter of that pain has barbs of doubt, guilt and confusion holding them in place in your heart. And we can’t let go or it can’t let go of us or we don’t give ourselves permission to keep moving forward even though we are cemented in that time of tragedy and know that’s impossible, isn’t it?
The hard part is learning to navigate around these losses, grievances and betrayals, eventually like a powerful river we keep flowing around these rocks of hurt that seem like they will never shift or move. But they do erode – the erosion is so subtle and slow we don’t even notice and so it is, I believe, with tragedy, loss and grief; be that for a living being or a relationship of any kind. Loss leaves a big hole and a giant rock that you drag around with you all the time. Afterwards we question everything said and done, what could have been different, the “if only’s” and the “what if’s” with hopeless, empty dreams. Nothing can be changed. It is what it is, but I know I fight against this too, even though I understand the futility of the fight!
I think only in time will I manage to erode down that rock of loss, will I be able to take the sharp edges off and flow a little easier around the things put in my way that I have no way of changing. Perhaps time won’t heal the wounds, but perhaps time allows my river of life to smooth the edges of hurt. Perhaps it lets me build up strength so that I can push past that hurt easier, every time I have to go past that hurt again. Because it doesn’t go away….
But…
But…
I let you in
Nobody
gets in
You’re supposed to stay
not walk away
I shared
everything –
gave you my all
you were supposed to love me
not push me
and watch
me fall
© Kait King, 2016
Crime of Passion
I wonder what my reaction would be
if I came home and had to see
you with someone that was not me?
Would I stay or would I flee?
The four stages of shock
when you find someone else locked
on the end of your man’s cock
and you need a loaded Glock
So do you stand quietly by the door
do want to watch some more or
do you want to scream at her she’s a whore
or collapse on the floor or
walk out?
Do you do it all real calmly
like you don’t really want it to be
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
“Would you please explain to me?”(tearfully)
That would be nice but it’s not me
This is more my reality
“I’m gonna kill the both of you for free!”
“How could you do this to me?” (insanely)
But a gun wouldn’t leave me in doubt
© Kait King, 2015
A new darkness stirs within…
As a writer I sometimes struggle to write and other times it just falls out of me. Sometimes I wonder where what I write about comes from. I know I make a calculated plan – the skeleton or bones – of an idea but then the flesh just layers upon it, creating the monster. The words used, the feelings created and the imagery perceived is what the end goal is.
A new character with a new idea of the world and what it owes them or what they must pay to live in my book, emerges. I know the title, I know her, I know her story. I would like to share this journey with you too. The beginning of gods’ daughter…..
© Kait King, 2015
Oh Hello Winter!!….mother-f***er…mumble…grumble…
The wind makes my little cottage shudder and shake, the rain pelts relentlessly on the roof. I can hear the rumblings of thunder as things thrash around on the outside. The palms’ fronds that had died during the summer have now been flung down to earth ungraciously by the howling wind. Not a bird in sight of course, they are smarter than us. I don’t know whether to be slightly afraid or think “fuck it” what can happen? But suddenly I feel like Dorothy. Even though I’ve turned up my TV, the rain is really loud and I can hear the wind still, and the thunder…It sounds like a train coming. I remember someone telling me that earthquakes sound like a train or huge truck bearing down on you. I wondered if the rain was actually hail – it sounded so hard but it just didn’t seem cold enough. I’m snuggling down – battening down those hatches. I think about the poor cows taking a battering in the storm. Nature is so harsh – we have summer and everybody’s happy and then Wham! So this is winter – we will blow the crap outta you, sting your bovine crowd and make things generally miserable.
Oh Hello Winter!!…. mother-fucker….mumble grumble…
Scribble Me
Scribble me
into your life
Pen me
into your mind
Feel me
in tactile braille
So I can read you
if I’m blind
Then touch me with
a purity – like
a crisp white paper sheet
Write me
into a love story
Our blending ink –
A story complete
© Kait King, 2016
It gets murky…
It’s not that I’ve forgotten you, sweet angel of mine, it’s that I just lost myself for a little while. You’ve been there so strong and true. Your arms swallow me safely and I’m grateful, so grateful for you. I couldn’t even see your pain because I couldn’t see through mine – the deep dark cloud of despair. I know it’s not forever, but at the moment, a day is a lifetime
For Jay, my nine year old son (at the time) who had to live with me being there, but not there, for nearly five years. I remember just about nothing of that period of time due to the heavy medication I was on. In the photo above he’s twenty 🙂
I place the brain in its’ skull….
When I finally find my rhythm and I am the one eager to push forward. When I can’t help but mould and mash a character of no charm, or carefully fine tune a delicate life, an angry spirit, that tortured soul….nothing can stop me. Time is of zero meaning or consequence. Food and water are not necessities, they are interruptions – as is anything else that must drag me from my Frankensteinian stupor. My frenzied, impassioned creation can sometimes make me feel overwhelmingly powerful or incredibly tiny as I realise how childlike my perception might be…or is it drama queen stuff? Not naivete…surely….not another avenue to explore…surely. Let me write it out of me in some shape or form so I can recognise it in some shape or form, not just a passing thought….a forgotten idea, feeling…story. Place the electrodes and blast it into the light, out to the night, encompassed in fright…write, write, write
© Kait King, 2015
Pick me
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
When you let me in
When we are
touching skin
when you have
let me in
With a dream-like
essence
I feel your
presence
the heat from
your skin
when you let me in
I know there
are no lies
I can see it
in your blue eyes
I can feel it
from your mouth
I can hear it in
your blazing skin
when you let me in
the goose bumps on
your flesh
and our kiss
can only express
we are so lost
it must be a sin
but only when
you let me in
© Kait King, 2015