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

warped, crippled
twisted and blackened
my monsters will be set free
decrepit, decayed,
barren of soul
sit here or there
and all will see
Damaged, Dangerous,
Dark and Fright
my monsters travel day or night
bad dreams,
bad thoughts,
dark dreams,
No light –
not all is as it seems
with knuckle-bite fright….
© Kait King, 2015
A young man stood in front of me. Slightly overweight with a bad crew cut. His left arm was heavily bandaged. He held it out to me like an offering – a kind gesture.
“What happened to you?” I asked. He dipped his head shyly and poked a toe at the grubby, coffee-stained carpet.
“It’s a long story.” He mumbled, “I was in love with a girl. I loved her for a really long time.”
His eyes flashed up briefly to catch mine. Glancing up to the right and back to the floor he continued.
“We always walked to school together – I was, I guess, obsessed with her.” I could see another flicker in his eyes, but of hesitation or clutching at a memory. “I bought her flowers and chocolates, wrote her cards and love letters. For a long time…” he trailed off.
“How long?”
“I dunno…” He scrunched his face up as if he was in pain, then breathed out, “Six years, three months, one week and four days.” And obviously still counting, alarmingly!
“That’s a long time to love someone.” I said.
It’s a long time to love someone if they don’t love you back.” He said, looking directly at me – scrutinizing my reaction.
“So why did you keep writing and giving to her?”
I thought she would love me if I could show her how much I loved her. I thought I could have her. She would be mine – but she left. She came up here, to the big smoke. She got a job, and apartment, new friends – a whole life of her own. What she didn’t realise was that she was my life. So I came to live here too. Then I followed her from her work one day. Just pretended I was in the area and had bumped into her, random like. That was not a very good thing to do – she got really mad and told me to leave…to leave her alone.” He stopped, rubbed his good arm across his eyes and sighed.
“That’s when I got this really cool idea!” His face lit up with his remembered ingenuity. “See, I read in a book somewhere that Van Gough had cut his ear off and sent it to the love of his life. So I thought to myself that I would prove how much I loved her – I would send her my arm. That’s bigger than an ear – it must mean more! So the next day I go to work and do my job. When I thought everyone had gone home, I turned my skill-saw back on and tried to cut my arm off.” He swallows a gulp of air and grins at me crazily.
“Geez, didn’t that hurt?” I ask.
“That’s why I stopped!” he laughs. “I pushed my arm onto the saw and it sliced quickly -which was my intention. Blood pissed everywhere – it quickly got through the bones before I had a chance to pull back and well….it was just kind of hanging off and that’s when I thought to myself; Shit, what the hell am I doing – this hurts! What a mess too. I would’ve died too , I suppose, if the other guy hadn’t heard me screaming before I passed out.”
© Kait King, 2015
It doesn’t matter what you do
chew up my panties
leave a present that’s a poo
bury personal items
dig a deeper hole
drag cow dung inside
pee on the stripper pole
rip up the newspaper
before it’s even read
take up most of the room
in my double bed
chew a cavern in the chair
bark at things that are not there
but I’d like to make it very clear –
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you
even though I’m only worth a poo
I really, really do love you 🙂
(Just to make things clear, I’m talking about a dog, not my man!)
© Kait King, 2015
I hit rock bottom
I sat on that bottom rock
weeds and roots
tethered me close
and not in a Lovers’ Lock
Catatonic in my despair
broken like a car crash victim
I clutched at straws
and sucked in air
feeling like I needed
Lithium
Overwhelmed by what
I’m not
broken by what I was
fighting what it has to be
a fallen star, a lost cause,
tell it as it is
that old me
will never leave
it’s a part of what makes me
my body may have
let me down
but when I write ,
I’m free
© Kait King, 2015
I feel
the sunshine
on my face
through emerald
branches
like delicate
spider-web lace
I feel
the warm
and soothing rays
of those dreamy
summer days
I wish I could
go back
to that place….
© Kait King, 2015
Listening quietly
in the dawn
of the day
My mind
playing games
that my heart
won’t play
Watching us still
in the dark
of my mind
waiting for someone
I can’t seem to find
Holding this close
Not wanting to lose
Making the choice
and then having
to choose
As the falling rain
dampens my heart
I can’t seem to see,
Was I blind
from the start?
© Kait King, 2015

I don’t accept it!
Fine – kid yourself
How long do you think you can keep this up for?
As long as it takes…why?
You’ll die before you realise the truth y’know…
Whaaaaat??
Well, the truth is, acceptance.
If you accept it, it can’t fight you
That’s fine but what if I’m looking for a fight!
Whaaaaat??
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…
Coming up for air
I see our tangled underwear
Like two bodies closely entwined
like the curl on a peeled orange rind
Resting nested soft and quiet
in the stillness after the storms’ riot
Gentle and soft, a loving embrace
your cotton jocks and mine, which are lace
© Kait King, 2015

So, the understanding being
that I don’t have to explain myself
that the sky is blue
and life is just because
Now the problem is
that I don’t understand what it is
when you say what you do
when you can’t do it
But the over-lying factor
is the way in which we move
among the dead, the living
dance alone
And I ask myself the question
which life do I fit best in
while you smoke that cigarette
with a flare
© Kait King, 2015
There’s a place I like to go
where everyone seems to know
who I am
I like this world
There’s this space I like to be
where everyone I see
is my best friend
in the world
And if I take you there
do you promise not to stare
cos it’s not done like that
in my world
When you walk in the door
and you say she’s just a whore
don’t put her down
it’s not your world
When you stand up at the bar
please don’t brag about your car
We don’t really care
this is our world
And when you do take her home at night
when she squeezes you back tight
Don’t leave her all alone
this is her world
© Kait King, 2015
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
Good poetry is knowing when to stop the rhyme
Whether it’s two or two hundred
and twenty-two lines
© Kait King, 2015
There is no other way to write
the truth spills from the soul
an eager hand and frenzied mind
I scribble out my fill
The scratching on the paper
the lead shines the ink glows
what I will write next
I don’t even know
but the truth is how it is easy
to tell what must be said
and there is an urgency in this
as one day we are dead
My fingers ache at times
as I just can’t seem to stop this flow
of words into lines a cadence reached –a drop
The wonder in me wonders
I speak it loud and often think
If I keep on writing like this
Will there be enough ink?
© Kait King, 2015
I can hear the cicadas
with their sliding
grinding legs
laughing kids
melting ice-creams
Clothes freshly dried
on a line
neatly pegged
That sun shine
warm tar
summer rain smell
That open-roofed car
chasing oceanic swells
Those exotic looking palms
lining Rodeo-type roads
giggling girls
in bikinis and curls
with their Summer Sunbodies
on show
© Kait King, 2015
I have a notion
that your emotion
is not just a session
of dark depression
but a mark on your heart
like a bite from a shark
missing pieces never found
and this is why you’ve gone to ground
I can guess
you don’t see this as a test
but an evil calculation
to distract you from your destination
A calculated move
to jig you outta your groove
But the world is not against you
just try on the other shoe
it’s not that hard to do
and if you walk a decent mile
you might cry but you might smile
ain’t it worth it in the end
if you find you’re your best friend
So don’t knock yourself so hard
you’re not stupid or a retard
We are all given different gifts
And as we live our outlook shifts
from continental rifts
to continental drifts
we figure it’s not just about ourselves
that there are no Christmas elves
and that you need to really care
for everything
if you want to get along here
© Kait King, 2015

Life looks
pretty bleak
If you’re a resistant
control freak
Nothing ever goes
as it’s s’posed to
See it’s up to the Universe
if it chose to
Nothing lasts forever
You’ll never be that clever
To beat the hand of Fate
Before you choose
and it’s way too late
Nothing ever
stays the same
You shouldn’t be
afraid of change
If you dig your toes in
and won’t budge
Or if you stay angry,
hold a grudge
Life looks pretty bleak
If you’re a control freak
I would imagine
intense anxiety
when you can’t make things
as you want them to be
And an obsessive,
over-busy mind
That’s never easy
to unwind
So you find something else
to get it fixed
But now –
you look drugged…
Not happy,
in those pics
© Kait King, 2016
With some leftover tea
I chuck some painkillers at me
A certain kind of guilt and
a definitive disgust wash over me
I fight every day
to keep a smile on my face
being strong, overcome
I have a new life to embrace
I know this is not what
I signed up for
I’ve paid the full price
for so much more
But I guess some you win
and some you lose
So I experience my life
in a different pair of shoes
But I’m still so sure
I was destined for so much more
so much more
I’ve already paid for
© Kait King, 2015
It’s time for me to close my eyes
the sleep – she calls me in
tempting me with promises
of dreams from deep within
Happy to drown in fluid darkness
my lungs relaxed and full
spiralling soft, my body jumps
but still I feel the pull
And so I slumber deep and long
my dreams are all but lost
as I pull myself up from this sleep
to be chilled by morning’s frost
My bed, it lies like a crumpled body
it’s death, by noose, my sheets
I pull on my jeans, headphones on
and head into the streets
The bus stop frozen from icy glares
the wind a second best
We glide and jerk through glistening streets
I know I’m not a guest
My homework lies upon my lap
I want to turn around and go back home
Even my music has lost it’s colour
and bleeds into a drone
We fall out of the bus in an untidy crowd
the Subway reeks of cheese
I feel broken and somewhat heavy
Would they notice if I fell on my knees
My iPod turns into my lecturer
and continues in a monotonous tone
My brain has surpassed this walled in campus
I fall back into my cool dream zone
My liveliness is so inspired by friends of sweet love and sweet dreams
this shining light of laughing free
and left splitting at the seams
We say adiós and walk away
our paths cross again tomorrow
I find myself doubting myself
is this the path that I should follow?
I stand in the queue, the bus pulls up
we file in like a production line
stamped and paid and sit if you’re lucky
the sun’s shining and every thing’s fine
I walk briskly home, it’s getting dark
I walk in tune with a song
And wonder at ideologies like…
why can’t we all get along?
It’s warmer inside and my little friend
turns himself inside out to see me
I talk, I eat, I study hard just to go back
to be soft, warm and dreamy
© Kait King, 2015
When I was a kid I grew up in a place called Somerset West in South Africa. It was beautiful and I have amazing memories living there with all of the beautifully changing landscapes and incredible wildlife. I used to go to school with a chameleon or a tobacco roller snake curled up in my pocket. I lived, breathed and ate horses (I always hated that saying – I would die before I ate a horse)…maybe…anyway, I was a happy-go-lucky kid. My parents were wonderfully social butterflies, having many dinners and do’s that were amazing. I would sneak downstairs and take a look at all the beautiful people and listen to their laughter and tinkling cutlery. My mother would let me have dessert upstairs while I watched TV way later than what I was supposed to. I had the dogs and cat crowded up in the den and kept hoping that I would be forgotten and could stay here, just like this, always.
Well that didn’t happen and life trundled on – I must have been about 14 or 15 years old and had my first boyfriend. My parents were out one night and so my boyfriend Mike, and I were over at my friends’ house across the road. Before we left we made sure the dogs were not able to get into the lounge, a light on the front porch was left on for when we came back and everything was locked up.
So we had a fun night with our friends’ and decided it was time to head back – my parents would be home soon and Mike had to go home too. We walked hand in hand down the long dark driveway and headed across the road. My house was lit up like a birthday cake. Every light in the house was on. Mike and I stopped dead in our tracks with our mouths open. I went to hurry forward and Mike held me back. We approached with more caution. The front door was also open…and all of the windows. We were terrified but for some reason instead of going back to my friends’ house we kept going towards mine. Mike pushed the front door open and we slowly went in – I was hanging on to Mike for dear life! Everything was super bright with every single light turned on, the guest toilet lights, the reading lamps beside the beds and the main lights…what the hell was going on? What was really weird is that the dogs were bailed into a corner in the kitchen. Not even where their beds were but squashed under the breakfast table. Now we had a Great Dane (Cleo), a Labrador (Lottie) and a Bouvier des Flanders crossed with an English Sheepdog, (Charlie). These were not little dogs or scaredy-cat dogs for that matter, yet they were cowering and terrified of coming out when Mike and I went in. Usually they were delighted to see us and went crazy even if we had only been gone for twenty minutes. The cat, Fluffy-bum, was nowhere to be seen either.
Mike and I scoured the house and turned off the lights and closed the windows – man, we were creeped out. Mike had to go so I reluctantly saw him off and kept the dogs close. I made sure I locked the front door behind me and checked the downstairs windows with a trail of pets behind me. While I wandered around the house trying to feel safe, yet believing I may be locking something in with me rather than keeping something out.
Suddenly I could smell something burning. I poked my nose outside to find out if there was a bush fire somewhere but I could only smell the delicately cloying Wisteria and Jasmine that threaded the hedge. I hurriedly retraced my steps, the dogs got in the way of course and I stumbled over them several times in my hurry. I couldn’t find anything that was turned on now – I had turned it all off! I checked the power outlets all around and unplugged anything that wasn’t being used but nothing was melted or smelt as if it was burning. I checked the oven, the laundry where the iron was – nothing, not a heated thing. I went into the den and turned on the TV. Lottie, Cleo and Charlie followed me in and clambered onto the sofa with me. Fluffy-bum had turned up and wiggled her way in amongst all of the dogginess. I wondered when Mum and Dad would be home, I hoped soon…
Next to the sofa was an old cane rocking chair and foot stool that would now and again crack due to the change in temperature so that was nothing new. But y’know how cats suddenly stop doing what they are doing and just stare at something you know is not human and may be a ghost or something like that. But you don’t want to believe it when it’s in your own lounge. So Fluffy-bum is washing herself, and the dogs’ faces in between their fluttering lip snores and does this petrified statue thing, looking at the old cane rocking chair. It cracks and I think nothing of it. Something has changed, the snoring has stopped and all three dogs are awake, lying there with their eyes open but they had not picked up their heads. That was really strange – they leapt up at anything in a race to meet it, greet it or eat it.
The cane chair cracked some more and then became regular as the chair started tipping back and forth, rocking… I shot straight off the sofa – cat and dogs flying. Something had changed in me – I was fed up with this torturous unknowing. I stormed over to the lounge door – ripped it open and yelled over my shoulder, “GET OUT! YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE – GET OUT!” and carried on like a tornado to the front door – ripped that one open, after I fumbled around unlocking it and yelled the same thing behind me. I stopped in my tracks as I felt something move and shift in the atmosphere.
“I’m sorry…” I whispered, “I’m scared of you, I don’t know who you are but I don’t want you here. You need to go to the light, just go…” and I closed the front door. I walked back into the lounge, I felt shattered but hugely relieved. I looked towards the welcoming sofa where Lottie, Charlie, Cleo and Fluffy-bum sat waiting. They looked relaxed and content. I plonked myself down and Fluffy-bum came over, she looked up at me and closed her beautiful green eyes in a smile of thanks and curled up on my lap after a couple of raspy kisses on my hand. Somebody released some of their dogginess and we were almost back to normal. I heard Mum and Dad’s purring car and saw the headlights sweep over the windows in a comforting light – wondering if whomever I had chased out of our house felt as comforted as I did right now, I really hoped so.

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

When standing here
with you
I don’t know what to do
or who to be
A lost and broken
man
Holding out his
hands
I don’t know
where to turn
I was swept up by
you
Crushed and broken, too
now I don’t know who I am…
© Kait King, 2015
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

Inky black,
I’m sucked back
down to
her darkest depths
Like an octopus
her story wraps me
in its tentacles
A stranglehold
on stories told
and the ink
she has spread across
the page I
can’t see through
I think I’m drowning
It’s sticky black
and I should come up
for air
even though
my mouth
is open
to suck grace in –
nothing fills my lungs
even though
my eyes are open
there is nothing –
nothing but darkness
inky blackness
the colour of
the story told
with the pain of
being buried
alive
© Kait King, 2015
© Kait King, 2015
There’s nothing like a tall glass of water
Nothing like a clear day
Nothing like your lovemaking
Like the dream I have when I always get my way
Something like the way you love me
Something like a summer day
Something like the way I crave you
Something always seems to get in the way
Ch: You do – something crazy to my heart and to my mind x 3
Nothing like the way you hold me when
It’s a cold rainy night
It’s nothing like the way you scare me
I wanna run – don’t wanna fight
It’s nothing like the way you tell me
That you love me when you want me
And I want you too
It’s nothing like the way you tell me
That you need me when you want me
And I just wanna be with you
Ch: You do – something crazy to my heart and to my mind x 3
Verse 3
It’s nothing like the way you find me
When I need you so bad
Something like the way you see me
Put a smile on my face
When I’m feelin’ sad
Nothing like the way I know you
When you don’t want me to see you, but I can see right through
Something like when we’re together
Something that feels so very true
Ch: Cos you do – something crazy to my heart and to my mind x 3
© Kait King, 2015
If you thought
you knew him
he could be read
like a book
Seeing is believing, baby
turn the page –
take a look
If you thought
you loved him
and he’d do anything
for you
check out his phone
he’s not at home
and now love,
you know what’s true
If you look at him
and think
to yourself
He’s not what
they see
Look a little
closer girl
the truth in him
will tease
And if he’s truly
for you
know beyond
a doubt
and if he isn’t
girlfriend
best you get
the fuck out
© Kait King, 2015
When you’re hanging by a thread
and the voices in your head
say “just let go”
When you feel torn and down
you try to take a look around
but find
you’re blind
And the time is running out
and you know what it’s about
you can feel that hanging rope
that blade against your throat
and you lean on in….
© Kait King, 2015

Life suspended in a web-like hammock
the coffee smell not as nostril-curling as in the past
a homeless man stumbles along wet walks
dragging his sorry arse along the splinter lit street
a reflection of a sad life in a hard city,
his city, a place where he lost his wife and his job,
a home, his family
where he nearly took his own
when things were darker than ebony
and he had to walk his walk alone
A bunch of aggro school kids
too brash and way too loud
disrespect his foul figure on the skids
he had no room to be proud
He seeks a place that’s dry
it won’t be warm,
he knows a place where he can cry
and his aching tears won’t show
© Kait King, 2015
So this is it
I mean nothing to you
I no longer exist in your world
There is no contact number for me
In your cellphone
anymore…
Kait King © 2015
When I write
every word is like
a finely crafted feather
particles of a winged voice
To uplift imagination
poor soothe upon torment
A flight path
mind’s destination to dream
picture perfect characters
who they are
where they belong
where you fit in
Nestled tight
keep out cold
turn against the winds of ice
water falling crashing calling
the feather nestled tight
let your imagination take flight
with these words I write
© Kait King, 2015
The night before, we had argued. We had argued because he had consumed two bottles of red wine and anything else that he could find the dredges of, which would be almost zilch because he always finished everything off. Anyway – I’m not a huge drinker and not during the week to the point where I wouldn’t be able to get up for work. This guy used to drive to work, still drunk, the next day. I often used to find him slumped over his steering wheel, car jacked up half on the curb and lawn or driveway and curb, the lights and radio still blaring. The drivers’ door askew and one leg hanging out. Like it’s the thought that counts…he thought he could get home, get inside the house…ridiculous. So this was why I was mad.
Anyway, as you do, I couldn’t sleep and lay in our bed wondering how the hell did I get here and how the hell I was going to extricate myself from it all. It must’ve been close to 4 am and I hear his car bumble into the driveway and something inside me wished he’d just stay in that car tonight, I was still pissed at the whole uncaring scenario. Alcoholics tend to not give a shit – like just about every other addict addicted to something more important than you.
I can hear him scrabbling around with his keys and I hear him talking nonsense to the cat and rummaging in the fridge. I make sure my back is turned as I just cannot face an argument with an illogical, loud, irrational drunk. He comes into our bedroom. I can hear him undressing and I lie quietly – trying to make my breathing sound even and as if I’m well asleep. He’s struggling to get his pants off and falls around the room, cursing and bumping into things and then collapses onto the bed, snoring.
I pluck feebly at the bed blankets he’s trapping underneath his comatose body. I lie there trying to figure out how I’m going to breathe for the next while, till I have to get up for work, as the room is turning into an alcoholic gas chamber. I only have to wonder about this for an hour and then I will have to get up to open the restaurant for breakfast. I can’t stand it so I get up. I decide to have shower to shake off the sleepless night. We have an en suite and I find my way there in the dark and turn the light on on the inside of the wall. A faint beam streams out, highlighting the bedroom as I turn to close the door behind me. In the moment the light poured itself briefly over my sleeping partner, I noticed something strange. All I could see were maybe two dark lines down his back – up to where the covers hid the rest of his body – from the sort of elbow area down. He’s lying on his stomach and is snoring facing the other way.
I gently open the door a little wider so that more light can try and identify what I am not sure I am seeing. I tentatively take a step back into the bedroom, squinting in the shadowy room. I keep going towards the bed and stand there looking at him. If you had been recording it, it would’ve looked like something out of those spooky paranormal movies. I was trying to figure out what he was wearing. I lean forward and carefully pull the sheets back to expose more of his body.
I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, scream or punch him. He was wearing a petticoat, with little string straps and a lacy trim. I was like, what the fuck!! I was in shock – I tell you, there is nothing like finding your man dressed up in women’s lingerie to wake you the fuck up out of your grumbling stupor of a morning.
His name just fell loudly out of my face and I was still clutching the tented bedclothes above him. His drunken scrunched up face dug itself deeper in the pillow and an arm came out to grab the blankets back.
“I like it! It’s nothing!” He slurred and promptly fell back into his drunken slumber. Well, I’m sorry, but I have nothing against anyone doing things that are consensual and don’t hurt anyone, but I do want to be the only one in the lingerie!
We spoke about it and he denied, denied, denied. It was crazy – I mean, I saw him! Needless to say as I like my men all man, I left and we have stayed friends. Interestingly enough his next girlfriend contacted me in a very distressed state to say that she thought he was cheating as she had found a suitcase of women’s lingerie, stockings and high heel shoes in the boot of his car when she had borrowed it one day. If only that were the case.
It was strange because after the initial shock and insulted type of feeling I had, I felt sorry for him…I realized that maybe he drank so heavily as he was trying to run away from who he needed to be. It may not be who you want to be, but it will be who you are…
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
© Kait King, 2015
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’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
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
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
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
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