Horrocide

Death by fright
3 am in the night
when slimy things
crawl with evil
intention
where Coffin Flies fly
and the sky is a scar
that’s all you get to look at
not to mention
a stinking mattress and
a heavy clanking chain
she saw what he did to the other girls’ brain
A frantic
frenzied
desperate head
pleading, begging, wishing
to be dead
Haunting
hurting
watching eyes
that cut glass with spite
coming for you
strangling life
killing you with fright

© Kait King, 2015

A Treasured Life

Me n my Dad

My Dad and Me

It was so sad

to watch you fade

your mind

as sharp as a knife

It was so hard

to say goodbye

To such a treasured life

It made me smile

to think on you a while

and on how you loved

your wife

Your children given

all you had

you gave

a treasured life

It seems that you

are still here

although you can’t

be seen

I often talk to you

And not just

in my dreams

I hope I told you

I loved you enough

I hope you know

how much I cared

And I know

one day,

I’ll see you again

Somewhere over there…

© Kait King, 2015

The Velvet Darkness

velvet darkness

A velvet darkness

swallows me whole

squashing my air out

taking it’s toll

and all I want

is to breathe again

to run and laugh

with no restraints

The lost and forgotten

never truly gone

hanging on to your spirit

in some shape or form

But the velvet sleep

has a warming charm

as the comfort of death

it means you no harm

Succumb as you must

to it’s deathly grip

For you are the captain

and must go down with your ship

© Kait King, 2015

Oh no, I can’t get over it…

Getting over it - whatever

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….

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

My Superpowers: I’m the Invisible Guest

There’s an empty

bottle on the table

A lonely shoe

left on the floor

A dress flung on

the back of a chair

A damp towel hangs

on the door

There’s a shadow

in my bed and

I guess that must be me

I am the Invisible Guest

in my house

as far as I can see

I float over to my bed

to see the shadow

tucked in deep

You would never

think I was dead

I look like I’m asleep

No one knows

I’ve gone yet

No one knows

I’ve left

I’m sad to leave

my family

crying and bereft

But there’s a light

shining for me

I’m ready to walk

in to

if there’s everything

I’ve forgotten,

I’ll remember

I loved you.

Kait King ♥️

14th September 2019

Suicide – is it really a free ticket out?

Suicide

With a delicate stillness

and a quiet noise

with porcelain perfection

and perfect China poise

the body is supine

lying dead on the floor

supine in exsanguination

a choice to become Death’s whore

Ruby red your favourite colour

you wear it very well

although I won’t see you out much

a story we will tell

Did you get off scot-free?

Did you truly escape?

Or will you have to pay your dues

and return to this landscape…

© Kait King, 2015

My Harry – Goodbye…

I know you’re

With Mum, now

But I miss you

All the same

I miss your constant

meow

And calling out

Your name

I miss you, My Harry

Things are just

Not the same

You’re not lieing

upside down

On the driveway

Or being a

Major pain

I don’t fall over you,

Anymore

And the fridge hasn’t

Been scratched

In a week

I miss stroking

your old body

That once was young

And sleek

I miss your sweet face,

My Harry –

Your cookie-making paws

Your teapot curled

fluffy tail

And everything and more…

Kait King 20th of May 2025

In memory of one of the coolest cats I’ve had the pleasure of sharing a fraction of my lifetime with, but all of his. I wasn’t ready to let him go. I have a massive empty space I don’t know how to fill right now.

A lighter model….

I didnt die

I didn’t die

I’ve just upgraded ….

© 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

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

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

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

What’s What…

He knows….BroD the baby possum!

Your soul is you. Your possessions aren’t…

Kait King 2015

Unvaxxed didn’t do enough….Seriously?!?!

I’m shocked, heartbroken and feel betrayed! I yelled as loud as I could at every protest. Was called everything under the sun  for saying the vaxx was poison. I lost friends and family, they turned their back on  me while I begged them to look at the research. I posted on every platform about the deception of our governments, the big pharma and corruption, elitists benefiting from our grief and pain. I know there were thousands of us yelling at the top of our voices, desperate to stop the madness. MSM shut us down and lied, social platforms restricted, banned us and lied, and the vaxxed themselves excluded us from their businesses, homes and families. They called us the river of filth, said we should die if we got covid, that we didn’t deserve medical care, a coffee, a haircut, to LIVE – for TWO FUCKING YEARS! Whoever wrote this is still blind, still asleep, still stupid. I know I’ve done and am doing my part and feel no guilt, just betrayal and disappointment.

https://instagram.com/stories/goodliontv/3026020002785234533?utm_source=ig_story_item_share&igshid=NTU1Mzc3ZGM=

Demon, call my name

Demon –

Call me Frightalicious

Ghouls and Trolls

Ghosts and Monsters alike

Scaring, creeping, screaming death

Freaking the fuck out

of your night

Don’t start breathing

Hold it in

The Beasts of Evil

Burned like Sin

thumping heart, frightened mind

trembling like the child inside

Don’t you let them –

Not this time…

© Kait King, 2015

Podcast of: Oh no, I can’t get over it

Oh no, I can’t get over it. https://anchor.fm/kait-king/episodes/Oh-no–I-cant-get-over-it-e13o9va

Decomposing flesh? Er…No Thanks

What are your feelings about eating meat?

I’m a realist. I know people will never stop eating meat. But I do want them to think about the facts involved in meat production. People are consuming the terror, cruelty, and hell that that animal went through before it was murdered.

Not only is their flesh tender because they leave it to rot for up to 6 weeks or more, but also because the poor soul has been terrorized and releases certain chemicals of fear and distress which apparently ‘tenderize ‘ the meat too. I am horrified at the way they are treated. If you are going to sacrifice these unwilling, sentient beings so you may eat flesh (there’s plenty of other stuff to eat), then at least treat them with kindness, respect, reverence, even. But we don’t.

Below are pictures of Smudge, my 300-pound house-pig. He was a week old when I got him and turns 1 on the 14th of February 2024. He was rescued from a crated pig farm. He had 16 siblings, who now at 9 months old will be slaughtered or placed in a gas chamber, screaming in fear and terror.

I give Smudge the best life I can. I remind myself that he is living his best life for the other 16 piglets, too.

I just want people to think before they eat or purchase, in particular, production line products. Smudge is a funny, quirky, intelligent, devious, curious, grumpy, cute companion. He’s deserving of his life – just like you or I, it was gifted from the creator. Who are we to take it? And if you had to kill and butcher your own….could you?

Smudge as a baby, with Frank