Daily grind of a good guy

Daily grind

I come home

the cat’s at my feet

kids are crying

but there’s nothing made to eat

It’s a hard day at work

with paper knee deep

and the heater’s broken

so I can’t get to sleep

Yet another day comes

we follow like sheep

I can’t find the faith

to make that big leap

I know I shouldn’t take it in

so very, very deep

But it seems to be sort of extra hard

when you aren’t someone who cheats

© Kait King, 2015

Crush

Crush

You crush me

Yes, you’re bigger

than me

You’d have to be blind

not to see

that you’re twice the size

of me

But I’m getting tired of

being pushed around

I hate the way you always

bring me down

Slutting yourself all over

this town

And I lie here

so crushed – so deep

underground

© 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…

Blink of an Eye

Domestic violence

that Evil Beast

Thriving on hurt

when all you want

is Peace

Insecure person

always comparing in loss

Punching out your feeble Anger

But your Family pays the cost

Vulnerable? Were you

beaten yourself?

Shouldn’t you know better

than to put them through

this Hell?

Poor little person…

Is that what you want

them to think?

So here you stand at

a Crossroad

You can change all of this

in a Blink

Kait King 2017

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

You’ll say to me


I’m uncomfortably present
awkwardly, I’m here
Cleverly, you’ve trapped me
by playing on my fear
I don’t want to say yes
but something in me is sparked
and if I don’t say yes
I won’t have a heart
you’ll say to me
You’ll say to me
I don’t really love you
that I’m not really into it
and my love is not true
And yet that twist inside me
coils like a snake
ready to make me feel bad
making me ready to hate
myself
© Kait King, 2015

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.

Wildest Wind

Wildest Wind

A Wild Wind blows amiss

the plants and trees –

not a gentle kiss

Like a Louis

the Fourteenth dance

All the stately

tree branches prance,

Individual as the players

of many orchestrated layers

They fling themselves

around

Ancient roots hold tightly

in the ground

as the Wildest Wind

does its very best

to keep the tree branches

from any rest

© Kait King, 2016

Being the Ogre

being the_Ogre

You promise

you’ll be home tonight

to kiss the kids and

hold me tight

You tell me it won’t be

the same

until it happens

once again

You say I am

the only one

and what’s been done

can’t be undone

I stay quietly alone

all through the day

watching our kids

grow and play

and when the door opens

later at night

they think you’re home,

that they are all right

But bedtime comes

and they can’t wait up

I am the ogre who’s

taken their pup

Little do they know

you don’t give a damn

Fathers’ like you

shouldn’t be called men

© Kait King, 2015

Do the Right Thing

do the right thing

I saw a man dragging a puppy

that didn’t want to go

And everyone else in the street didn’t want to know

“Don’t get involved!” said a nervous Mr Hay

And he crossed over the street

to walk the other way!

I saw a brother pinch his little sister

on her tiny arm

How could anyone want to do

another body harm?

“Don’t get involved!” said a spiteful Miss Melissa

She won’t play with me at school

and is meaner than her sister

I saw a man shout

and push a woman to the ground

She bowed her head and was crying

but you couldn’t hear a sound

“Don’t get involved!” said a crabby Mrs Mend

And I wondered for over a month

if that poor woman had a friend

But now I’m older and I know better

I want to pass this message on

If there’s a body in need

you must always take heed

Because nobody wants to go through it

alone

© Kait King, 2015

Does it Sting? – aka Pointless

skeletal mona lisa

Does it sting?

Can you feel

my hate

my anger

blistering at you?

Inflamed and furious

that not even the

Herculean strength of my own

sanity will tie it down

My bitterness seeps out

of my pores

leaving a trail of

achingly sad tearful

nights and aimless lonely

days

Does it sting?

Can you feel me

loathing you from afar?

My hate for you is so

giant – it has to be visible

surely you can feel this

surely you know I am hating you

betrayed by you, unforgiving

of you – surely….

What do you mean, he’s got another girlfriend?

© Kait King, 2015

A Mantra for those Suffering from Violence

a-nz-highest-rate of violence

You will never

have power over me

You’ve taken everything

that you can see

but you will never

have power over me

You will never

have my mind

You’ve beaten me black

held me behind

But I promise, you will never

have my mind

You will never

have my soul

You tell me I’m ugly

stupid and old

But I swear, you will never

have my soul

© Kait King, 2016

I Thought It Was You

I thought it was you -Picture of Heart

Something

is missing

since we’ve

been apart

A part is missing

Something

has been lost

and I thought

it was you

Since you’ve been gone

I thought that piece

was you

A part of me

has been missing

I truly thought

it was you

But when I look at

it closely

it was a part of me

you took –

I was missing

not you

© Kait King, 2016

Break my heart, why don’t you

Break my heart

Break my heart, why don’t you

I know you didn’t choose to leave

I don’t see you anymore

and it’s hard to believe

you’re not here

with me

now

I can’t hear what you say

your words are in the way

I know what you really mean

It is me

that you

don’t want to be seen

with

Break my heart, why don’t you

you’ve not told me what I want to hear

You’ve spoken to me and for you

it’s crystal

clear

But I keep hanging on

hope makes you all mine

but somewhere in my lonely heart

I know you

will fade

in

time

© Kait King, 2016