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
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
If he hits you
He will hit your kids
He will kick your pets
He will break your stuff
He will fuck your world…
Mary Bell
what the hell
at ten
was inside your head?
To choke a
little boy of 3
until he’s stone
cold dead
And then to carve
your name in him
the initials MB
in his chest
Did you want everyone
to know
that this work
was your best?
I know your mother
was a prostitute
and she did terrible
things to you
And is she the one
responsible
for making you
into you?
Others have
an even sadder tale
and are left with
deep scars too
but others haven’t
needed to kill
or do the things
you do.
© Kait King, 2015
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
Sometimes I wonder if you were
ever really here
Somehow I know what’s true
when you were always there
But as life returns back
to a more even keel
I can’t help this wonderment
this dreamlike existence I feel
You are gone yet you remain
and as the world lazily spins on the same
those 70’s and 80’s – a very different look
maybe just a new chapter in my new story book
As you are not really gone
I will sing your same old song
And I will die at my age and my son
will turn the next blank page
© Kait King, 2015
With a new non-smoker righteousness
you glare at all of me
I’m vulnerable, I’m open
Don’t you want to hold all of me?
Will you curse the shape of my body
or my heart
my spirit
my dream or
perhaps just all of me
Your love that I
need so desperately
makes you dislike me
immediately
I am but a child
I didn’t ask to be born
But please, can you not hug me,
feed me –
keep me warm?
© Kait King, 2015
I remember sitting on the edge of my parents double bed upstairs. I had a little pearl handled gun in my lap. I was sobbing my heart out. I truly felt worthless, unwanted, damaged and broken. I was sad that I would miss all of my family and hurt them but I didn’t want to pretend that I was happy to be having my 13th birthday – that I was a teenager, all grown up. I didn’t want to grow up. I wanted to stay the way I was from a week ago. And I knew I could never go back and it would never be put right or changed. It couldn’t be.
That pain of hopelessness that clung to me like an overly small wet-suit strangling the life out of me, that was overbearing and I was being crushed beneath it. I held the gun up to my head, sobbing. My finger wasn’t on the trigger just yet – I knew it was loaded. It always was – it weighed differently when it was empty. I held that gun in my mouth and I thought about how awful it would be for my Mum and Dad to find me like that – in their bedroom, on their bed or floor – depending on how I collapsed when the bullet plowed through my brain. I tried holding it in my mouth. The metal barrel rattled loudly against my teeth I was shaking so much. And the messy result would be the same. I changed my mind and decided to do something a little less messy and dramatic. I didn’t contemplate leaving a suicide note. I was ashamed that I had been raped, ashamed, embarrassed and feeling guilt, overwhelming guilt. I didn’t know what it was in my head or my heart, I just felt incredible guilt at what had happened to me. What would I say in my note other than I was sorry? That I loved them and it wasn’t their fault? Wow – I think about that now and wonder if I had actually pulled the trigger that day, knowing what I know now, how devastating that would be in itself – but to not have a note that could free them from the constant wonder and doubt…
Anyway my next plan was to climb in the bath with a whole lot of Panadol and a razor blade. Razor blades were easy to come by back then. My dad had one of those twist on and off razors and you slipped the double sided Wilkinson blade in very carefully as it is mighty sharp! So I ran the bath, I felt very determined that I wanted to be out of here. I felt I had no future to look forward to. I swallowed the 18 pills I found and carefully undressed and climbed into the bath. It felt like the right thing to do. I felt elated at the thought of freedom from this constant hurt. I dragged the blade at an angle across my left wrist. It started to bleed – it was like a deep paper cut – very thin. I drew another one next to it. Nothing hurt. I swapped hands and held the blade in a rather slippery left hand. The water was turning pink. I placed the blade at the beginning of my right wrist. My fingers were getting sliced as the blade slipped awkwardly but I managed to drag it vertically up my arm. I just lay back, waiting. I felt excited, as I say, at being able to escape all of this.
But my girlfriend from next door helped me to live. She found me. Poked her fingers down my throat and made me vomit up all of the pills in a chalky, semi formed mass with the milk she forced me to drink. I hate milk on its own to this day. She plastered and bandaged me up. I begged her not to tell anyone and she never has.
A Survivor
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
He rolled her up
in the carpet
He tied her up
real tight
He threw her into
the trunk of
his car
And screeched out
into the night
He knows he must not
draw attention
He must slow down his breath
and calm
He drove around
for hours
With her body
in the back of
his car
Delusional or clear
of mind
It really didn’t
matter
He was clear enough
to clean up
the mess
And removed
all of her blood
he splattered
He contemplated water
He thought about the dump
He thought about a mountain top
He could make it look like
she jumped
As dawn approached,
a screaming light
His stomach started
to rumble
So he drove her through
the drive thru
And didn’t miss a beat
or fumble
A steady hand
held out dollar bills
But his eyes he kept downcast
Not a thought spared for
his wife in the trunk
The love that didn’t last
© 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
I want the truth
The truth about you
Not the bullshit
Covering your skin
But the real you
The real one within
I want to see you
To see you naked
Stripped of all worldly things
Nothing to hide behind
Show me you
Bare naked
Let me into your mind
Kait King 13th September 2018
Would it not be reasonable to think that an individual who ‘requires’ a restraining order, is the type of individual who would break a restraining order?
Kait King 2017
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
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
Meet me in the middle
and I’ll take you to the end
Tell me that you trust me
and I’ll let you be my friend
Promise me the world
and it’ll fall at your feet
Run the faster race
’cause it’s me you have to beat
Don’t believe in rumours
and they won’t control your life
Believe in what you want to be
and step into that light
© Kait King, 2015